A journey to the heart of Bavaria

A DOUBLE POST. I'm so sorry I actually forgot to post the last piece I wrote last week.... I've been busy... Actually not really... More lazy I'd say, however not as lazy as many may lead me to believe as I post my ultimate and final piece of this epic five month literary masterpiece that has explained, over exaggerated and immortalized the past, and last, five months of this trip. It has been momentous. It has spanned many a country. There has been fun. There has been culture. There has been beers. It has been exceptional, however, as I write this in the departure terminal of Berlin tegel airport heading home for the first time in 13 months, I am excited to be heading home. There is trepidation, a new era of my life awaits, but, the thought of seeing people I haven't seen for over a year, seeing my family, seeing Roland and even seeing the yids been barca at Wembley is driving me on. Possibilities is the word of the day. Deep I know, I'm just writing this so you don’t judge me so much when I write the actual meaty part of this article, which will be arriving imminently. I'll post now on the back of a few weeks in ze Deutscheland, mainly in Berlin but with a few days down in deep Bavaria, doing all things German. Yes everything. This involved: beers, hiking, eating sausage, saying tchussi, looking at pretty buildings, obeying j walking rules, discussing brexit, meeting an old friend and, oh yes I remember, drinking more beers st Oktoberfest. It was very fun.

As I headed down on my flixbus, I anticipated what these 3 and a half days had in store for me, I was excited, raring to get started and seeing Manuel, who I hadn't seen for 4 and a half years. Wow long. Would we still be friends? Would we recognize each other? Would he find me as intensely irritating as the majority of the rest of the world? After all lots has changed in the last 5 years, and I mean lots. I feel like a new person post gap year, uni and second gap year. It was unbelievably comforting therefore, to realise immediately, literally within 3 seconds, how nothing had changed. Conversation was never forced, all was comfortable and he had a good plan, now I knew it would be a good trip. The first evening was uneventful. Not bad by any means, exactly what we needed in fact, a whistle stop tour of Munich, a taste of the local beer brewed next to the monastery manu went to school in, ye that local and our first maaaaaaaas (1 liter of beer, yummy) before we headed back to tegensee (is that how you spell it) but Ill get to that. First I need to briefly mention a phenomenon I've never seen before and even after explanation from manu before we got there, something I had no idea what to expect. Dont expect to understand  it just reading this, apologies. So it is an artificial wave on the river in the middle of Munich. It is maybe 10 meters wide and is always going. It is a mecca for surf bums from apparently all around the world. World famous in the surfer dude world. Rad eh? Or gnarly? I dunno I don't surf. It was however, EXTREMELY impressive as they surfed from side to side rapidly, doing their little tricks and jumps for the ever growing crowd who. Completely ignoring privacy ideas, filmed the whole lot. This included yours truly as I filmed a wee vid for memories sake. That was cool. The rest of Munich is beautiful. The building are all nice, well up kept and most importantly, colourful. I like colourful and painted buildings. Oh yeah we also climbed up a church to get a nice panoramic view of the city, very nice if not a wee bit tiring and sweaty. Anyhow, in tegensee we visited the famous tegensee brewery and even saw the monastery Manuel was educated in, very cute. We also consumed another beer and half a pig together as we munched down two bangin meals, George approved. Manu, day 1 was successful. 

On to day 2. With an early night under our belts it was an early (read early as: 9am) start as we prepared for a hike. Ooo exercise. The fourth of Manu's week, the second of my month maybe. Having arrived in the dark I couldn't see the surroundings of the house as such I had a rough idea of what I  might expect but these expectations were far below the reality as I woke up in awe of the landscape surrounding the house. I can only describe it as living in the Alps. Which is literally where we were. The mountains towered on all sides of us with the Xmas trees adorning each summit. Sadly no snow. Although this made for a much more enjoyable, Clear and warm hike. So usually when heading on a six hour hike in the alps you may need to drive somewhere first or get a bus or train. With kreuth, this is not the case. From the back door we wandered thru the picturesque, tiny alpine hamlet towards our everest. The hike was beaut. Not too strenuous, but hard enough and long enough to make us feel like we got our exercise for the holiday and give us a carte Blanche for Oktoberfest he he he. It was the classic situation when the tourist is stopping for photos every two minutes as each view gets better than the previous. The sun was shining the mountains were infinite and there was barely anyone there, a perfect threesome some would say. Having only got lost once (and only slightly) and with me only asking "are we there yet twice?" We hit the summit. EXITO. A very nostalgia moment from the glory days of bariloche in Argentina. Off came the shirts, out came the sandwiches and the sunbathing began. It was lush. When fully whelmed we headed for a beer at a little chalet thing. And headed home in anticipation of meeting a new puppy and then oktoberfesting. So the best surprise of the trip was undoubtably the datshund (sausage dog) puppy. Oh my lord he was adorable. So small. So scared and so perfect. He was amazing. With a little brown beard and brown feet he was the epitome of perfection to me, sadly all good things have to come to an end and this good thing was cut so cruelly short as we rushed to catch the train to Munich for some beers in lederhosen. The journey continued up to the next chapter which will most probably be written in less adoring detail as the details blur slightly and tales become less "travel blog worthy"....

Our destination in Munich was Manu's friend, Georg's house. Pronounced gay-org. So we had a Georg and a George, a nice meeting of cultures... Or just two similar names from different countries. He was at Oktoberfest however, so our plan was to get to his apartment, get let in by a friend, put on the lederhosen (I was wearing Manuel's brothers), get drunk enough for a club and then find the after club. We did this all very successfully if I say so myself drinking g n t with ice, being classy while saving money and time. The night was good as we wandered to the club thru the swathes of drunk oktoberfesters and had a boogy. This led us to the next morning. The real Oktoberfest. It was an early kick off, 9:30am, heavy. We donned the lederhosen, got some beers and begun the day of fun. Georg managed to talk his way into the main tent, no mean feat, highly impressive and then also managed to worm us two in with him after a few lengthy discussions. My hat was off to him, highly impressive bullshitting ability. The tent was big, loud and there were a lot of beers. It was heavy and passed with lots of fun and a few incidents. The rest of the evening and night passed as such and I feel the contents of this period is not best suited for this blog, lol. Leave y'all hanging! Don’t worry as this is the last piece I'm sure I'll be the only reader anyway. I'm writing this post really for the first few more cultural days anyhow. 

The next morning started eventfully again as we woke up in an unfamiliar bed and had to wander back to the living room where mine and Manuel's allocated beds were. This marked the beginning a quintessential hangover day. Very slow, painful and unproductive as we reconsidered our lives, contemplated our life decisions and made promises to our future selves. It was amusing as we wandered from place to place aimlessly, just looking for grass and shade by the end. As it all became a bit tiring for our brains and legs we decided the sofa was the best place for our miserable bodies and we returned to watch the full extended edition of LOTR the two towers. It was epic and it led me perfectly up till my night bus back to Berlin. All in all a smashing few days in Munich hosted immensely by Georg and Manuel. Cheers boys. Oh yeah and I slept very well on the night bus home. Literally the full 8 hours. It was a perfect night bus as it left at 11:15 and got in around 7-7:30. Short but all spent asleep. George approved greatly. This trip was a nice final outing of what can only be described as an absolute belter of a year.

Now onwards and upwards as I look to move out permanently and find a nice enjoyable job that pays the bills. Also I'm gonna try and post this from the plane because I get ten minutes free WiFi and I couldn't imagine a better use of that than updating this bad boy.

G over and out for the last time for a little while. Hopefully not too long. I look forward to our next meet.

G. XOXO

Life in a bulgarian hospital

Allo. I write to y'all today in an upbeat yet somber mood. Spirits are high, I'm excited for home, I'm excited for Oktoberfest and this has been an immense 2 months. Yet, as this trip draws to an end its sad: reality draws ever nearer, working life is calling my name and I've gotta make sure my friends haven't completely forgotten who I am. Yes, so we are on the plane, awaiting our delayed leave time (currently 25 minutes late) so we can get back to Berlin in one piece after the true oxymoron nature of the last week and a half. On the one hand it was highly stressful as Alina was in hospital, we had no information on when she'd be allowed out and I was basically her runner/nurse/helper, whatever you like to call it, but on the other hand her being in hospital paralyzed both my desire and my ability to be too active and adventurous as I had to be on hand and around in the evening to visit her, thus I was left in limo as I did very little all day and chilled out in the evening. So it was stressful in nature but also coincided with the most relaxed part of the trip for me (sorry Alina). 

We have been in Bulgaria's capital, Sofia, now for almost two weeks I think as Alina has had her appendix taken out and was subsequently hospitalised for five days before we had to stay and wait for her to recover before we could take a flight back to Berlin to officially finish the trip. The last week has kind of felt like already having been at home as it's been lots of TV, sleeping and eating (no complaints there). I will give a quick rundown to you guys of the hospital timeline and experience as I think that was the most striking and prominent part of our time in Sofia. So luckily for us Bulgaria is in the EU. Therefore Alina's insurance covered her fully and money was not an issue. From being diagnosed with appendicitis it was a quick process to getting her operated on as it is an emergency surgery and recommended to be done immediately with any delay being potentially fatal. This made our choice of whether to have it done in Sofia immediately or in Berlin after a flight a simple one. After a few tears and a short to call to mum Alina was ready to give the all clear and get operated on, prescribing herself to five uncomfortable, tough day in hospital. The process thereafter, as I say was swift. She was put on a wheelchair and whizzed around the hospital. It was immense. She probably visited 30% of the hospital in half an hour. Her nurse just sped her in and within minutes she was out and off to another room. I was left to sit outside each room and chase after him every time they moved to a new room. Sporting her new "oversized" and "vintage" (read vintage as old and pre used) clothes Alina didn't look impressed but she stayed strong and before long was off to the operating room. I was left to wait outside for this to finish having had no communication from anyone of how long it would take, I only had a guess of roughly an hour as Alina was told by one of the doctors. I waited, I blogged, I tried to sleep, I learnt about science. The time dragged. Two hours later in came the stretcher with a barely conscious girl lying on it. The surgeons told me it all went well and I could see her in a few minutes. 20 minutes later I was in. She was still very effected by the anesthetic so conversation wasn't as exciting as normal but she was fine. All my fears had been cleared. She however was freezing so we laid a few jumpers over her. After an hour I was kicked out and told to return at four for visiting hour. Yep you got one hour for visitation a day, seems a bit short to me. I was also told to come in earlier for info at 12.

I came in duly at 12 for info, I got nothing. All I could do was give a bag of her stuff to a doctor to take in for me. I left and returned at 4. It was nice to see Alina. She was still weak but improved from the night before. The hospital was pretty bleak. No WiFi, one tiny TV for the four patients and all in Bulgarian. I was feeling very sorry for her but we didn't think itd be long before she'd be out. The hour passed in a flash and I was kicked out again. This was why, by the way, I did so little as I was left in limbo by the doctors and with the lack of info it was hard for me to do much else in between going to the doctors and the 30 minutes walk each way. The next few days proceeded similarly as she for ever stronger, ate more and drank more. When the main issue was boredom and not pain, this is when my spirits rose as I knew she must be out soon. The main issue for alina was that very few of them spike any English and they paid her thus little attention. Especially, as it was so hard for her to ask for things or communicate at all with the nurses as they tended to her noisy neighbours. This brings me on to another point. One of the worst things about hospitals as we're all aware is that even if you are getting better, the people around might not be. This can lead to rough experiences and poor nights.

Sleep as Alina found on maybe her third night leading to me getting a message that I needed to bring ear plugs with me... Not good. Hearing the story made me cringe as apparently one person came in from surgery at 11 and then spoke to their family for an hour with the lights on full blast. After this the doctors were in and out operating, medicating and what not with the lights on and making huge noise. Eeeeek. Sounded butterz to me. Luckily she only had one more night to endure at this point. On the day of her release I came in early at 11 to pay some medical bills and went up to see if she could go. I literally snuck into the ward after a doctor as I was basically ignored by a previous one and found her. With no contact I had no idea what was going on but we spoke to a doctor and gauged that with her insurance card we could leave, this was exceptional news. Gearing up to leave we got ready but with ultimate Bulgarian style we were made to wait as I had to go sit outside for an hour with yet again no information before again forcing my way in to find Alina ready to go. The whole process was long and painful as we had no information on what was happening.

The days after went very easily as we got a private room and did literally nothing. It was awesome and then deciding Friday was the day to go back we booked our flights and here we are. Having just set off, we're ready to get back to Berlin.

Anyhow, what we actually did in Sofia was minimal. We went on a good free walking tour and I climbed up to the summit of virosha mountain which is right next to the city. An easy walk as I took a bus up maybe the first 90% of the mountain and just had a simple few hour walk to make it up to the top. As a city Sofia was awesome. Very livable, good history, nice buildings, a good chilled vibe and lots going on. As places we've been go it was a good place to be stuck for me and good for Alina because the hospital must have been better than in other cities we've been to. 

I have only a few more pieces to write before I head home, maybe one on Oktoberfest and my time in Munich, a little recap of this trip and then maybe a cute reflective one on this year as a whole. Yay. Three more epic reads for y'all before this blog may be retired for some time. 

G.

A tale of sickness and woe

Here I am, sat in the hospital, left to ponder how the next few hours will go, left to hope all goes well with Alina's operation and left to reminisce, to empathise for the position of my parents (my two most consistent blog readers) during my adolescence when I spent about two days a week in hospital. Hospitals are funny, funny as in odd, weirdly intimidating and sad but also hugely impressive. You walk around and you can feel everyone's eyes on you (this may be partly sue to my obvious foreignness and bucket hat) as they wonder "what's wrong with him?" And "why's he here?". Its like a guessing game we all play of working out everyone's issue and whether its bad enough to be here. I for one am THE worst for this by miles I reckon so rest assure if you're judging me In a hospital I am probably judging you back (not in a negative way tho).

At this stage in the piece I'd like to quickly mention this post hasn't got much content, especially considering I dont actually know the theme of it. I think I might reminisce about previous travelling injuries to keep some kind of continuance in my blog, a vague running theme so as to speak. This is the most serious issue I have had (read: I have had, as: Alina has) to  face away on holiday. Having been an accident prone kid I am not one to be unfamiliar with the hospital and injuries abroad have been a running theme of my life. Whether it was cutting open my foot on a rock in Australia or slicing open my hand on grass in Kenya or food poisoning in Guatemala or gashing my face on a night out in Argentina or... Let me think... Do I have any more tales of woe abroad... Oh wait yes I do, or when I fell off my bike in Vietnam and tore two knee ligaments. Nevertheless, I am used to injuries and ailments abroad and there is nothing worse for spoiling a mood or vibe or trip than going to hospital or needing medical attention. This is for many reasons: how expensive will it be? Will it stop me doing everything I want to do? Do I have to go home? Will they understand what's wrong with me? Luckily for Alina here, most doctors have spoken good English or German so its been relatively smooth. It started, however, poorly as the receptionist rudely said "I dont speak English" then spoke to someone then continued with her job. Very unfriendly. Luckily an English speaking policeman helped out. Still bad start. The language barrier is a pain in these important situations especially with the internal nature of an appendix problem. My leg in Vietnam for example was simple, I pointed at the yellow, pussy, festering mess of the leg and the doctor easily prescribed me antibiotics without saying a word. And at least in Guatemala my decent Spanish allowed me to answer every question the doctor had for me and talk to the nurse as she saw me and treated me at my Sicky worst.

The money issue is also one that, however much we wish it wouldn't, flies around your head. You dont want to be ripped off, you dont want one night to cost you $1000 or so. Its stressful, even with insurance. Will they pay out? Or will they find a loophole? With Alina now its covered by her German insurance so alls good there and she doesn't have to stress. I look back again at my food poisoning and remember my one night in the hospital cost £800 loooooool. Luckily my insurance covered it minus the excess. That was funny because my hostel owner pointed me to a private hospital with my own private nurse something i ever would have gone for if id have known and luckily the insurance company shelled out for me, phew. Still, that scared me while I waited lying in bed.

The contemplative mood has also, obviously, got me nostalgically wondering at the greatness and beauty of, for all its sad government implemented flaws, the NHS. Its great. Criminally underfunded and staffed as I was reading about merely days ago but immense almost whenever you use it, especially in an emergency situation. Elect corbyn, stay in Europe and properly staff the NHS. He he. Yes so I havent got much else to say but still some time to wait so I may go back to learning about space for a bit.

Drop beats not bombs. G.

Macedonia? Or is it north Macedonia? Hmmmm

Another day another blog post. Yes I am writing again, this one less out of excitement and a desire to educate my readers but to make sure I dont forget visiting the country thats name seems in the unenviable and inevitable position if needing to be changed to placate the angry Greeks. This, all to join the organisation Britain is fighting tooth and nail losing out on millions of pounds to leave. The irony. Yes we've left Macedonia now as we're in Bulgaria safe and sound. This will be a brief post as we did little owing to time pressures and illness. That brings me nicely to my current situation. I'm sat here outside a doctors surgery as Alina is getting her stomach checked for an ailment that is hitherto undiagnosed. We've had ideas that it may be a bug, a tumor or an organ infection (not a very exhaustive nor appetising list of potential maladies to have). We have also predicted her lifeline to be hours, days, years or maybe even millennia if the Bulgarian hospital system is so good it is currently working on eternal life. But who knows. I'll probs know in about five minutes. I'm not confident they are tho, but I'm also quire confident Alina's life expectancy is more than a few days. But I digress.

Yes, our time in Macedonia was brief and relatively unremarkable. We visited lake ohrid and skopja before leaving and this to.e was thwarted by an inability to be too active due to sickness, this is no great issue tho as Macedonia isn't the biggest or most exciting country in the world. Our time there however, began in quite amusing fashion on the back of the journey from sarande to ohrid, the journey I wrote my Albania pieces on. I say amusing... It was a long day... Very long. It worked out at a cool 11.5 hours of travelling. Eeeeewww. It was a slog, I'd actually forgotten how long it was tbh, now just recollecting it I'm remembering the length and sweatiness etc. So it began with a journey to a town beginning with r (the leg I posted from) then it was a hitchhike to a roundabout from a stop at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. This was followed by another hitchhike from the roundabout, we were sat on a motorway roundabout hitchhiking. Let that sink in. It was ridiculous but amusing nonetheless. We then chilled in el basan for a bit and got food before deciding to hitchhike the remaining journey because wed have had to wait 3 hours for the bus. This brought upon us the most eventful leg. We were picked up by a 27 year old guy in a VW golf sport and his little brother. We were driving, he was driving, very fast. I say this and don't mean it lightly. I think he clocked up 180km/h at one point. This was on a single carriageway with turns. We were terrified. Fearing death I proceeded to put my belt on subtlety and have normal conversation. He'd overtake every car at the last second, literally from less than a foot behind them he'd swerve out and bomb in down the road. I glanced at alina, she gave me a steely look back, I didn't want to hear her verdict... Then just before we were getting out he proceeded to ask if we smoked weed. My worst fears confirmed... They were both stoned. Lord Almighty. While I felt safe my tensions rose and we couldn't wait to be out although it must be said we did get a good chunk of the journey out of the way in that half an hour. This left us near the Macedonian border at maybe 3:30. The day was getting late and we were desperate for the last lift. We had no luck but then a bus came past and we jumped in as it drove us to the town before the border. While trying to find a lift to struga on lake ohrid our bus driver, it turned out, was getting a lift there in half an hour. Easy, €5 for the two of us and we were there. Sadly it was not this easy (it never is). Finally the car came. We jumped in and he drove us all to a garage where he began to fix the car... Really? Now? Not tomorrow? Please just get us there. There was no panic, just exasperation at this point. After another 20 minutes we left. Wicked, all we had was the border crossing and we were in the home stretch. He then proceeds to stop at another garage to chat to some guys and to the best of our knowledge pick up another man. Luckily for us (as we were crammed In the back) he didnt pick him up. We drove on up the mountains to the border, this was when the car began to give up on us. It clunked, semi stalled and whined willing us to stop. We persevered. We climbed the mountain in painstakingly slow fashion but alas, we made it. This was when the real magic happened. Waiting for our turn we mused and consulted each other on a poster next to the border guards office. It was a poster of two handcuffed hands poking thru some bars and said (in Albanian) something along the lines of "no to corruption". Then we moved forward and the guys in the front gave our passports to the birder guard. They talked and he gave over some documents and some money. He let us thru, very simple indeed and it was on to the Macedonian side. Same again, over go the passports. The guard gets aggressive. Something to do with us, we're very in the dark however, and the driver says something about tourists. The border guard shouts. Our drivers panic, grab some money put it in the documents and hand them over.... I snigger in amazement. The guard gives back the passports and we were thru ahahahah. Our drivers, we think, had been  done for not being an official taxi and had bribed both security guards to get us over, lol. Which surely must have cost them more than our agreed €5. It was great, especially as it came 10 metres after the anti corruption posters. Amazing. The last part of this journey ended in similarly incredulous and amusing fashion as they tried to drop us off 2km before our hotel for the night. We argued and got them to drive the extra 3 minutes to get us there. We'd made it. After a long old day we'd made it. Now I can tell you what we actually did in Macedonia now.

As previously stated illness thwarted our time in struga on lake ohrid as Alina felt grim the whole time. Side note she is now in a proper hospital (not just a clinic) having just had an ultrasound to work out if there is a problem in her stomach area. This is the next day by the way, I only wrote parr of the article yesterday because the examination wasn't very long. We hope there is no issue but we'll find out in ten minutes or so. Yes so we did little on the lake except for one day I went for a trip to ohrid town and charged around trying to see everything touristy in a few hours so I could be back in good time. Dont worry i saw it all, the monastery on the lake, the castle, the views, the old town, the bazaar and I even went for a swim. It was all beaut. Apart from that our time was highly uneventful and we chilled.

Next up was skopje, the capital city of Macedonia. We had a good few days there still plighted by illness. One thing that stood out about Skopje was the number of statues. There are hundreds. They come in ALL forms representing ALL of society. I've never seen anything like it, at one point we were stood next to a park and I could see 12 statues around me. They have them dedicated to shoes, mums, dancers, war heroes, politicians, couples, lions, workers, literally anything you can imagine: they will have a statue of it. Its mad, seriously. Anyhow apart from that we went to matka canyon as you can see from my previous post which was lush and the boat tour was very picturesque and atmospheric. Yep so there is little to say about our time in Macedonia but I'm happy I'm banged this piece out anyway.

We have had the news on Alina and she needs surgery for what we think is appendicitis. Although with the broken English we aren't 100% sure.

It should all be fine as she has the surgery tonight, by the time I post this it'll probs all be done. #Pray4Alina

This will probably inevitably lead to me to writing a piece about hospitals and the NHS and having issues abroad. Especially if I have time to kill while waiting for the surgery. Fingers crossed.

G.

the tech of travelling

Let me take the time out of my busy day to regale you, my beloved readers, with a little tale of how my day has gone and fit it into a rather larger thought I've harboured for years. Yes, this is not just a "what have they been up to today" piece but one where I pour my thoughts and feelings into the blogosphere so all of you can share in my musings and arguments. This is not such a controversial topic, it is one that everyone knows but takes little  notice of as it is so engrained in the modern day backpacker. Anyhow, I'm in a bus, shock, and have dour and a bit hours to kill before we enter Bulgaria after a brief time here in Macedonia that has been plagued by illness and a lack of time. I'll write another post about Macedonia I think, although there wasn't much to our time here sadly. We'll see. Yes we're on the autobus to Sofia, capital of Bulgaria now, I am as tired as I have ever been, Alina feels sick and the bus driver has told us we can't eat on this journey, wicked. Urgh. I also just finished "a brief history of time" for maybe the third time as I pursue my scientific education.

So, today was supposed to be a chilled day as we went to the matka canyon for the day before our bus. It started smoothly, we got there, the bus trip took an hour not 40 mins, no worries, and we went on the half hour boat trip. It was pretty. Afterwards I wanted to walk to a monastery to get a nice view on the canyon. Alina didn't fancy it so chilled as I embarked on the half hour trip up followed by a 40 minute walk back. Alina took the phone so I was going blind. I ran up the hill and made it up in no time. Got the pics and saw the views before heading down. Firstly I almost went the wrong way, luckily I asked some people which way to go and they told me the right way and told me to just follow the path all the way round and down. Simple. I ran down, semi running semi speed walking. I got to a fork, hmmm. I went for the one that looked more direct and had a sign pointed towards the monastery, a simple choice I thought. I ran down, all the way down till I heard the water, bangin I'd made great time. I wandered down over the bridge along the dam and then the path stops. Literally it stopped. I couldn't cross the river. OK I looked around, there was no choice, no other path along the water. I panic, no phone so I couldn't just check the route. Ok so I went back and found a fork. Perfect. I followed the alternate path. Sprinted up it. At this point scared wed miss the bus back to Skopje and miss the consequential bus to Sofia and thus restricting our time further and missing our hostel reservation that had been paid in full (literally for the first time ever). I was panicking. I continued to run up. And got to a point I recognised. Bollocks. I ran back down, I couldn't retrace my steps all the way back. I had to find another way. I was back at the river. And climbed over the fence to follow the river thru the undergrowth. This was a mistake. First: I was lacerated by thorns across my bare chest. Second: I tried to duck under a bush and the entire bush, its leaves, dirt and rubbish moulted on me. Third: my foot sank into to sinky mud. Wet and muddy and smelly, horrible. I turn back. Time for plan c. I climb onto the wall bordering the river. Its like a tightrope... Ok its not that thin but you get the gist. I wander along wondering how to get back across the water I get to the end if the wall and climb down to the river (my makeshift path has disintegrated). I have one choice, wade across this relatively shallow part of the river. I embark. Shoes in my hand, socks off, water bottle in hand and go pro and sunglasses in pocket. I wade. The rocks are slippy, the water is wet, it is also cold. Slow progress but no slips. We're half way. It gets deeper, thigh height, and is tougher to keep myself dry. I keep going and make it to the other wall. Next issue getting to the "steps". I follow the wall back. The water gets deeper, waist high. The steps are a meter away. The metre is long tho because the water is much deeper for it. I brace myself and leap. Semi swimming semi jumping I make the bottom "step" with relatively dry shoes, jumper and socks. Success. Next I have to clamber up the metre high steps (each step was a metre high) and get to the electricity plant, definitely trespassing at this point. I climb up. Then need to climb down, proper parkour. I make it to the road and sprint to the cafe agreed as our meeting point. I get there. What time is it I gasp. 2 o clock. It had been 1 hour. What??? I thought it was maybe 4. Wow. I was proud, but dead.

What is the relevance of this little anecdote I hear you cry? Ah very good question. Yes, so it got me thinking as I sat silently on the bus back, so energy less i t felt like I was back at school having just finished cross country. If I'd had a phone, literally any phone, this whole ordeal would have been avoided easily (this thought was confirmed as I checked on maps.me and saw the trails marked on there clearly). And I thought lucky we have phones, but then, I thought: do you know what? While it was a stressful, tiring hour, it was a hilarious story. It also provided me some adventure, something unlikely to happen at home or Australia... I thought, this is one of the beautys of being away. Phones have, sadly, changed travelling I think, a lot. In s america all I had was an iPod and in c america I had a phone which  was as useful as an iPod as I couldn't use anything without internet and consequentially I found my self in a lot more tricky situations as I got lost, got ripped off and wandered so blindly around these alien places. It was scarier but it also held the merits of giving you a sense of achievement as you completed relatively simple tasks like finding a hostel, or the peak of a mountain. The increase prominence of phones, the widening 4G coverage, the increase in mobile plans that allow for use in foreign countries and the app maps.me have all, together, eroded much of the adventure of being in a foreign country and so as to say "in the stick".When we went to Vietnam we got internet for Christians phone so we could use google maps on our bikes. Then whenever we were lost or in a dodgy situation we always had the safety blanket of having our phone. In Australia I had 3G the WHOLE time except in the outback, coincidentally making that the period that included BY FAR the most adventure of the whole trip. It was literally directly proportional. The less phone coverage I had the most adventurous the trip became. Now here in Europe we haven't got internet so we have found ourselves in sticky situations however the having of maps.me (an app that allows you to use maps without internet, just location settings) has made life so much easier. You don't get lost on walking trails. You find the hostel. You know when the bus driver drops you in the wrong place. You know when to get off the bus. I remember in s america I would literally be reading every road sign in an attempt to work out where we were and when to get out. I'd have to speak to the driver and ask him to tell me when we were there. I even took a photo of the map and our route and tried to follow the route as we drove it (this led to me missing my boat to Uruguay and ending up in Boca when I was in Buenos Aires, so maps.me would have been a beautiful addition to my life here).Its hard to say that phones are wrecking travelling, especially as they're just gonna gain more influence and prevalence over our lives but I do sometimes look back in nostalgia at the times of old when being away really felt like you were against the world with no help, now I feel we have our ever present little helpers in our pockets.

Lol look at me talking about back I'm the day at the age of 23 haha. Anyway, just some food for thought for y'all. Meanwhile, the sun has set and its dark here, I'm dreading having to find the hostel in the dark when we get there.... Oh wait we have maps.me it'll be easy.Back to restart Stephen hawking for me. G.

THE BEST BIRFDAY EVAAARRRRR

Ok fine mum I'll cut my blogging break short to bring the second chapter or our Albanian adventure. So I'll give you some more information of the current bus journey. We are currently sat on a big bus going along the exact same route as we were on yesterday, more to come on that later. Luckily the roof window has finally been fully opened and the breeze is flowing meaning the average bus temperature has dropped by about 10 degrees, yay. The second titbit we have to be slightly thankful for, and something I remarked to Alina yesterday, is that if there was any road in Albania wed like to drive along three times in two days it is this one. It is gorgeous, we're currently in a valley between a few mountain ranges with loads of colours everywhere and different (sedimentary rock formations... Oh no I can't remember if they were or weren't sedimentary... CHRISTIAN I need your geology knowledge pleassssseeeee). Anyhow its a nice drive as we retrace our steps up Albania towards Tirana but stopping at a town called rrogozhine. Ye thats a mouthful isn't it haha. I think its pronounced rogoshine. So were going there quite blind in an attempt to make it to Macedonia and lake ohrid by tonight which depending on the connections at this place may be possible something we didn't anticipate this morning as we tried to plan an unplannable route thru Albania as there is little to no information online and you've just got to wing it and ask people at the bus station. Planning is impossible and I think un-albanian... So you could say we're living the local lifestyle... Maybe. But yes if all works out we'll be in Macedonia tonight (another tick on the country list and another pin for the map, but thats not what this trip is about George. Obviously.)

Ok so that enough on our current situation, actually one more thing, it has provided me a nice chance to catch up on the blog because nothing makes time go by like writing, especially when its as enjoyable as this is. Its a bit like how exams seem to be half the time they are because you're concentrating and writing so much. But yes I am nearly caught up and nearly 2 hours have gone by since I started the last post so its going well. Coupled with bangers and some water and food my brain is stimulated to fill you all in on every little detail of this trip. So we left vuno nice and early to go to himare, a beach town 15km down the road. As such, and considering how awful the buses have been we decided to hitchhike. Save money and time and test the niceness of random albanians! Ha. It was another hot day as we trudged to our lay by beside the road and began task. There were some old people next to us who we weren't sure they were doing and then after maybe ten minutes of failing to get a car to stop for us a few guys got dropped off next to us. Had we landed ourselves at a bus stop? Was there something we weren't aware of? We persevered. No one stopped. Come on pleaseeeeee. It was getting to the point I was considering getting out the sun cream as we were bang in the sun and a car stopped. Our saviours. The two guys let us in and got our bags in the boot before talking to Alina in German for a bit. I was left to chill in my  corner of ineptitude as my German levels could not cope, fine by me. We arrived in himare to find our hotel/Villa/guesthouse. We never really know what the title is anymore as they seem to be very interchangeable. We chosen a slightly more expensive one for the two nights as it was Alina's bday the next day. It was one street off the beach, lush and had all we needed. And at €25 a night it wasn't even too bad. The funniest thing was when trying to find it though. We had it on the map and could see it was 20 meters away, no more so we asked in a hotel where it was and chaos occurred. We stood outside as 3 or 4 separate people came out to talk to us and to ask if we needed a room. No matter how many times we told them we had a reservation and were looking for the place they didn't understand. It even culminates in a well mannered man coming out with a key, introducing himself and showing us towards their rooms. Oh my god. We enquired and established this wasn't our place to which he said "ah guesthouse, yes that is in the centre. Down this street" implying it was like 1km away or so. We knew it was next door or so so just left and found it at the next right. You could actually see the other hotel from our room. How on earth they hadn't heard of it is beyond me, so either they understood and were trying to get us to stay at theirs or they didn't understand us. Either way it was still funny. So we move on to the big day. Alina's bday. The big 2 4. Being in a small beach town you've never been to before trying to find a cake and candles I can confirm is very difficult. So at 7:30am I was up and about searching for these illusive items on a tight time schedule. I failed in part but not entirely. In the butchers I was able to find a tall house candle and in the supermarket I Found baklava, not a bad substitute for cake I reckon. First bullet of the day dodged! It was a nice morning as we ate and wandered down to our beach got a few sum loungers in the front row and set up for the long run with music, cards, notebooks and sun cream. This was a big tanning day for the two of us. And what made the situation better? The room was less than 100m away And the shops was less than 50m away so anything we needed was at our fingertips, almost literally. It was all perfect, the water was clear and warm, the beach wasn't busy, we had cheap beers and food extremely close and a lot of factor 50 suncream to stay protected, its hard to imagine a more chilled out bday free of stress and obligations. I think alina enjoyed it. Late afternoon we headed back. Alina spoke to friends and family, I watched the yids. Ideal. Oh wait it wasn't ideal. We lost. Worse than that we threw away a 1-0 lead to Watford. This, along with the mild sunstroke from lots and sun with little water put me IN a worse mood. Not to worry we drank loads of water and went out for a posh meal so all was well as watched made in Chelsea and went to bed, a good birthday I'd say.

Next up was ksamil, a tiny town past sarande which it turn is a big party beach town similar to budvha in Montenegro. Not lookin to repeat that experience we skipped it to go straight on to the smaller, nicer and cheaper ksamil. The journey was ok. When we got to sarande it was a local bus, only 20 mins to ksamil. We waited for this bus for maybe 45 minutes. 45 minutes for a local bus to a tourist hotspot from the biggest beach town in albania. Then, when we finally got the bus, it was rammed. And when I say this I dont mean full. I mean jam packed so I didn't have to hold a rail because I physically couldn't move. There must have been over 100 people on the bus and the conductor crammed more on. More. There were 3 people on 2 seats, people pressed against the glass and no room to put my hand in my pocket to get the phone out. Coudos to the conductor tho he got almost everyone on and took the money off everyone, something we thought would be impossible in that straight. As we got to a stop everyone had to learn on each other to carve out a path for the leavers like moses parting the red sea. It was a horrible journey, so sweaty and now we both have colds we've had for a few days now we reckon are probably from that sweltering unventilated bus ride. Once we got to ksamil tho it was immediately obvious why we did. Much nicer than sarande and we even had a three bed family room with a balcony, end suite and kitchen for €15 a night. The next day was spent trying to get over our colds on the beach, sunning and swimming and all that before chilling at home seeing what the movie channel on our TV had on offer (the only channel in English). An interesting selection if films over the three days from shutter island to GI Joe to cowboys vs aliens. Not your classic set of films one would say. Our final proper day in Albania and ksamil was immense, one of our most action packed and interesting yet. We went to the national park in the morning for some history and culture as they had a preserved 6th century BC Greek town that had been inhabited till the 1940s. 2500 years of habitations. It was nice, lots of shade and some very impressive ruins, walls and mosaics. And what made it even better? It was free. Usually around five euros but on this sunny Wednesday we got free entry, perfect. We questioned why all day as it seemed only too random. At the castle at the top of the settlement came the moment that changed our day irreversibly. We were sat on the wall discussion our next move for the next day and how to see the blue eye and get to Macedonia. Mid convoy we are interrupted as a lady comes up to ask if we want to go to the blue eye with them right now as the she was going then and then coming back to ksamil that evening. Our hero. We deliberated for approximately 5 seconds before taking her up on the offer and strolling down the castle steps with her and her father. This was how we met Wii (like the Nintendo, please excuse my spelling if this is incorrect!) And Mohammed (same again! Spell check can only do so much for me). They so kindly took us along on their day of siteseeing in their car, saving us a ridiculous amount of time of time and stress navigating yet more illogical bus routes. The journey allowed us to learn more about each other as we found out Wii and Mohammed worked in the cannabis industry (in Washington) and for the UN (based in Italy) respectively. Needless to say we were both very interested in both these career paths as we ploughed them with questions hoping not to seem too rude! The journey was much simpler to the blue eye by car than by bus and wound around the beautiful roads we've just vacated on this journey today. The blue eye itself was nestled in these mountains and is so named because it is literally a really deep hole in the ground maybe a few metres in diameter. Through this deep hole funnels thousands, maybe even millions of cubic metres of water a day. Its ice cold, perfectly clean and crystal clear. The water funnels out a deep blue in areas and a lighter blue in others. Its so cool how you can see all the plants clear as day thru the water. This then streams down a river all the was to sarande I believe, or at least most of the way considering we followed it almost all the way to sarande. I think I remember reading online divers have gone to 50m deep and still not found the source of the water it the bottom. Getting that low must have been hard considering the temperature at the surface and the rate the water was flowing up at, not a dive for a mere paddy open water diver to 18m like myself, lol. After the blue eye it was on to (sorry for the spelling) gjirokaster another old town and UNESCO site with another massive castle on the hill. This was a good castle by George's castle standards. Very well kept, we could have been in harry potter or lord of the rings or something except for the modern WW1 maybe weaponry lining the main hallway and the big communist workers statue. Or the tank actually, oh yeah I almost forgot, or the American spy plane... It was an awesome castle but just very random as it was almost like a museum for the different ages of Albania. It also possessed a nice view over the town where we went for food after. And the best thing was that the castle entrance was also free yay. Why you ask? The lady told us it was because if mother Theresa. Yes mother Theresa, cheers love. I imagine she is looking down on us answering our unasked prayers and saving us money twice in one day, what a saint. After this Mohammed so kindly treated us to a meal back in the square which was absolutely beaut and capped off an awesome day of sites and site seeing. We drove back to ksamil to pass out in front of our beloved film channel. After such a good, and lucky on our half,  day they even so kindly offered to drive us back to sarande the next morning as they were already driving that way saving us a repeat of the earlier jammed bus full of angry, sweaty people. We are nearing our first stop on this trip before heading in Macedonia. Albania has been absolutely immense, let's hope Macedonia Romania and Bulgaria can live up to the hype too although I think we're running low on time for me to get to Oktoberfest and Alina to get to Berlin.

Under a month left #Tears4G G.

The mules

the animal house

Hola all.

I'm very sorry about the black out I havent been in a blogging mood recently for some reason. but today, with half an hour till our bus to Macedonia I thought I can't continue this and be a whole country behind, that, would have been a large mountain to climb. I am also sorry I have just remembered I forgot to post my Kosovo blog, I Was too bust having fun and that. Worry not I am back and unsure of whether I will post one or two blogs and if I do 2 how will I split them up. Life's unanswered questions.

So our start in Albania was eventful, shockingly because of the buses. You may have noticed the running theme here guys, the buses are crap meaning I got my wish for more adventure but it has meant they've been more expensive and tiring than wed hoped to be honest. But yes, we were at the terminal having speed walked cause we were late in time for the bus. We asked where it left from and were pointed to a corner outside the station... OK, so an international bus is leaving from that corner? Sure. We got there and another man was waiting for the same bus, this helped our nerves. Then he came to speak to us to tell us the bus wasn't coming into the city but was leaving from a restaurant out of town and we had to share a taxi there, cheers for that. Oo i be just realised I wrote about this in the last piece. Oops sorry. Ok moving on.

So Tirana is the Albanian capital city. Not the most exciting place in the world but it had a good feel to it with some pretty buildings, a big Pyongyang esque square and a rich history of empires and communism. One thing that must be noted about Tirana is its abundance of bus stations... It has 3 or 4 just to add to the confusion, amazing, wicked, falaminderit. But yes. Our first stop in Tirana, get George a tattoo yay. I've wanted one for ages and having finally found a design and place for it, it was just a matter of getting the tat. 50 dollars? Fine. And now a few weeks later its not infected, its peeled and looks sick. Everyone meet wei ling my new panda. The next day we were up for an early free walking tour, which was banging followed by a trip to the biggest of Hoxha's communist rule. Side note: he was so paranoid of soviet and us nuclear attacks over a few years he made (I think) 188,000 bunkers, put of an intended 370,000 (I think) to prepare for war with both the us and the soviets. The irony is that the president didn't even know Albania existed, lol. The one we visited tho was huge and never used. At times it was 5 stories underground and even had a huge meeting room/theatre. I stress, it, and none of the others, were used. Wow. On The day we planned to leave for berat we planned a day trip to kruja, the stronghold and home of our great Albanian hero skanderbeu the liberator and saviour of the Albanian people. This was cute. It was a town in the mountains with a pretty old town with cobbled streets and stores and a big omnipotent looking castle. We had a nice lunch up there and wandered the walls before heading back for our bus. This is when the next bus saga began.

This one ranks high in our list of bus grievances second the one in Kosovo and one ahead of the one we're in as I write... So we got back and walked to our hostel, 30 mins. We got our stuff and walked to the station with our bags in the rain. Remember there are three bus stations. We walked to the one we thought was it. Oh no its the one just along this road on the left by the big statue. Ok we can do that. This was maybe another km. We are tired and demotivated. As we get to the station we see a bus to beret leaving around the roundabout. We dont panic, there'll be another we're not in a rush. We ask a guy who works there... That was the last bus, great. So we have to get a bus towards fier and get off at a roundabout to get a taxi. As the sun was setting. Then when we got to beret the street name had changed so the one we gave people was the new one and everyone only knew the old ones so we couldn't find the apartment. This was until a nice man made it his mission to get us there so he called the number five times rill he picked and and the host picked us up. This was a very long day.

Beret however, was a pretty old ottoman city. Another UNESCO site (again) god were getting bored of these now just get me a beach and a city. He he he. Speaking of which we've seen two  more since lol. OK yeah so there's lots of white ottoman houses up the hills with big windows, very photogenic and pretty. There was also a big castle on the hill over the town. This was big, not just a castle but now there are restaurants and hostels up there too along with a mosque and church. Much more than we anticipated. Good exercise, good views and some good history, good cricket. (That was for you dad). Berat was nice but we were done with towns so it was on to the coast and one of our favorite little spits on the trip, vuno....

So I've now decided how to split this piece. I was going to put this in the second one and Split them between cities and beaches but having had such an action packed day yesterday I think I may ramble a bit too much so putting vuno in this piece may be preferable for both my brain and your sanity. I hope y'all agree with me, much love. So vuno. This was a funny stop, wed heard about it from a girl in Montenegro who recommended it to us a a hostel that was converted from a school in a tiny old town near the sea. Cool, the clincher tho was when she said there were animals just wandering around all the time. Score, result, as two big animal lovers vuno was placed on our itinerary immediately. So getting there wasn't easy, shock another bus situation. This one was long and hot. Firstly there was the intracity bus, simple. Then the minibus thru the mountains which was long, over two hours. The driver was also the most sane driver we've ever seen, he drove so carefully and slowly it was refreshing although it did mean the journey was super long. Bring back my crazy drivers please. So we were in vlore. Fine, one more bus and we're there. Only issue, there was no bus station. WHAT?! Omg. Yep we were dropped on the street and told to go to a street corner. We went there and spoke to three taxi drivers who told us we needed a three euro taxi, shock. Not having that thanks. So we spoke to a bus driver who told us to go stand by the road 50m away and hail down a bus that passes. Lord Almighty. Ok. Oh yeah by the way it was like 30 plus degrees. We waited then I asked another woman in a bus company shop and she says there is one leaving from outside her shop in 20 minutes... Convenient... We also only have half the money she asked for and she accepts it. We were very suspicious. Waiting in the road again but this time with a ticket the stakes were high.... We jumped at every bus that came until finally we got it. Easy. We got on and calmed down knowing the worst was done. How wrong we were. This journey, supposed to take an hour by car, took three hours and was unbearably hot. Urgh. It was a big one. But we made it to vuno and when walked to the hostel went a windy way to find a shop. There was no shop. We ended up walking down a narrow downhill path, thru rubble and rocks and eventually thru a construction site as some workers had to let us thru their underground piping operation. Safe to say we felt we deserved a beach day the next day. So the skholla hostel was nice, well done up and had all the amenities apart from, when we first arrived although it got fixed, running water... We were camping so it was also very cheap. The next day we went to a buff beach near by. It was an hour and a half walk to get there thru olive groves, over little farmers walls and down a cliff. It was very nice and provided some exercise before an inevitable day of beach lounging, eating food and swimming. Tick tick tick. A lush day on a lush beach with barely any people because it was getting to late in august. The only problem... The walk home... Up hill... We also manager to get lost... It was very hot and sweaty and we missed our trail sign, grrrrrr. Luckily we had the maps app and we ran into some shepherds who pointed us right. This also led us thru a scenic... Bee farm... The randomness of this trip never fails to disappoint hahahaha. A good day nonetheless. The other day and a half we spent at another beach near by that we could hitchhike to. Again very nice but more busy because its easily accessible and closer to the big town himare. As eluded to earlier the true attraction of the hostel was the wandering animals. Firstly the house cat was an aggressive scavenger, literally eating off your plate and would even come back after he'd been thrown away. Next came the "stray dogs" its hard to say if there stray tho or just have very lax owners. They were all starved of love and affection tho. Lucky they came to the right place, two affection craving humans here, form an orderly line please while we pet all of you in turn. Ok next. We showered them with love and they loved it. I miss Rowland 😞. Next came the heard of goats that fame straight thru the hostel every day. I say thru the hostel the hostel in built on one aide of the road and campsite is on the other. This is the main road to vuno town.. It was wide enough for one Car... But somehow seemed to have constant traffic running thru it, bazar really. The goat heard tho was hilarious, many if them equipped with bells so their imminent arrival was anticipated they would all trot thru, maybe 100 of them, grazing around our tent climbing down walls and generally just chilling, they were jokes and their procession was generally a highlight of our day. Lastly was the wandering mules. Lol. Mules. Run you mule. There were three but apparently there were up to 15 that just wandered freely all day erday. They arrived as we were all eating dinner, how convenient... And as I was trying to chow down on my pasta I had two mule heads, one on each shoulder, also trying to get a bite. They were very persistent, they're big and strong so it was a tricky one to stop them from getting at my food. We pushed them. They didn't budge. We clapped. They flinched. Them eventually our Peruvian friend got them away and then it was just the cat to contend with. An eventful dinner time at the animal house but all very funny and enjoyable.I'll leave y'all here and write the next chapter of our tale in half an hour or so, my head needs a wee rest, as does my stomach. This bus is like a furnace and is weaving round mountains, bleurgh.Falaminderit, ciao. G.

europes newest country

Ok so I'm back again to write a small little piece on this gem of a country, Kosovo. It has been brief trip, just under a week, this partly being because we realised we dont have quite as much time as we thought originally and also because there isn't much to do here. As I mentioned, many times, in my triple threat if blogs last week the people here are so nice and welcoming which is a good omen for the next few weeks as we enter Albania. Why is this? I'll give you a little history lesson. Kosovo used to part of Albania pre Ottoman empire. Then when the empire was disbanded Kosovo was given to Serbia and Albania's land was cut down to a fifth of its original size. So there are Albanians in Kosovo (about 90%), montenrgro, Bosnia and Macedonia. So basically Kosovo is like little Albania and as we're going to Albania now were confident they're gonna be chilled and fun. Wooooooo.

Ok In Kosovo there isn't much going g on. Its super cheap, tick. There's loads of fake designer clothes, tick. And people are super helpful, tick. Another example of this was just now in getting this bus. We were waiting just outside the station where the worker pointed us to for our bus in 45 minutes and there was a guy in front of us also going to Tirane. He turned to us after a while and explained as it was a weekend the buses weren't regular and we had to get a taxi to a restaurant just out of town. Great. Classic. Stupid buses. So we jumped in with him to this place where the bus was duly waiting for us as he'd actually spoken to the driver to get them to wait. So now we are on our bus and we didn't miss it. Yay. Back to my tales. Pec was our first stop. This was where the saga unfurled. Apart from that we had a very uneventful few days in pec as we chilled, ate and... Chilled more.

On to the capital, prishtine. This place is weird. Firstly they have a statue of bill Clinton and streets named after both Clinton and tony Blair, nice. This is because they brought peace and independence to Kosovo. For once its actually a good thing to say you're English or American lol. Secondly, the architecture is mad. Like... Very out there... And ugly. Sorry guys. Its butterz. In general though we got good vibes from the place, it was very livable, lots going on in the evenings and as always everyone was nice. We did another free walking tour, shock, which was bangin and without it the time in pristine would have been pretty pointless I reckon as we would have understood nothing. Lastly we have just left prizren. Another kosovan town I'm the south of the country. Its been nice again but there wasn't so much to do. The streets were pretty there lots of mosques and a nice river but really there wasn't much keeping us there longer than our two nights. We did have a nice evening last might though as we hiked up to the fortress overlooking the town and got pretty views over the city as the sun set.

Overall Kosovo was nice and we weren't killed, mugged, raped or shot so it wasn't all as bad as the Serbians made it out to be. Let's see what Albania has in stall for us. I for one am excited. G.

the first time a bus has ever left on time, like ever.

So, the saga. This post was promising to be very exciting and I was going to decide much love, detail and time to it but its kind of fizzled out a bit but it is still an interesting little story even if it is had meant that today has been rather boring.

Let me begin. Today was a day of firsts: the first time I've left my big rucksack unattended in a station, the first time I've missed a bus, the first time I've waited 4 hours in a bus station, the first time I've been in a Muslim country for eid and the first time absolutely everyone has tried to help us and showed so much generosity. Kosovo really is a country of the nicest people. We know this having been here for only three days. So we walked to the bus station to get there at 12. The bus we found out (at 12) left at 12:40. We had not eaten yet so we had 30 mins to get food. The only problem was that nothing was open. Why is this? Because it is eid. The Muslim holiday, Kosovo is a very Muslim country. Literary nothing was open. We wandered around and ended up at the same restaurant we had been to on the previous two days. Ordering two pizzas we waited for them. Time ticking. With five minutes till the bus was meant to go Alina went back to stop the bus going without us or just get the big bags off the bus if they were going without us. I stayed for the food with an old man who had kind of adopted us. He spoke German and I think was just glad to have an ear for his stories as Alina spent much time listening to his ramblings only understanding half of it as his accent was swiss, he had broken German and was old. When the pizzas came I went to pay for them and he batted my arm down and paid instead. Against all my protestations and arguments he paid. How generous. I them got the pizzas and sprinted to the station. Literally sprinted. It was maybe 300 metres and was probably the fastest I've run since school. It was nip and tuck whether I'd get there on time. I checked my watch as I arrived.... 12:43. F**k. I couldn't see the bus, our bags or Alina. What has gone on. Has she gone with the money and bags?? I then see her next to a bus. I get there and she confirms the worst. The bus has gone with our bags. Why did they take our bags??? We spoke to all of them. They knew who we were. We understood why they'd left we were late but why didnt they leave pur bags so we could take another bus!!! Alina had been in conversation with another guy who spoke perfect German and was translating. Everyone was trying to help but no one had the drivers number and all we knew was that they'd be coming back at 4. Then the waiting game began. The guy working even offered to pay for our bus tickets even though the money really wasn't the issue it was the fact they had our bags... Very generous nonetheless. We basically had a gang at this point as it seemed everyone knew our situation and wanted to do something. They all just told us that this was a good family and the bags would still be on the bus. We wondered wouldn't they take the bags off at the other end so we could get a different bus down and get them then. They all told us, no, wait. So we did. Under a tree for four ish hours. This is how I have managed to provide you with three posts in one day. I've had lits of time. Sadly for Alina she has been listening to the old man all day and hasn't been able to chill. I think I kind of dropped her init by writing these posts. She listened very well and politely though. Coodos to Alina. Fast forward and the bus is nearly here. We are nervous. The old man comes over with another man who it turns out is the guy driving our bus back to pristine. He says he's spoken to the driver and they have our bags. Phew. We chill. The bus arrives and we jump on. We didn't give it any time to leave without us. And when we saw the conductor he says nothing to us but just points at his watch. Hahahahahahaha. Sassy MF. Fair play we were late and deserved it.

What we learnt though is a testament to kosovans they're all so nice, generous and helpful. In no other countries would we be able to be so relaxed about our bags going across the country. Also this would have probs been a more interesting story if the bags hadn't come back to us so easily but sadly not all good tales have the end they deserve. He he. We're glad the bags came back to us though.

And on that minor lesson. I'll leave ya. My brain is fried from writing this much on my crap little phone. G.

The most long winded journey of all time

Second piece of the day. Sat in the same chair, under the same tree having eaten my pizza. The one good things about today's saga has been that it has enabled me to catch up on this little blog as I was a few days behind and was too lazy to write it yesterday. The result, we've had two days of complete chill to recharge our batteries. Onto the bustle of the capital city next woo yah.

Ok so the trip from zabljak to Kosovo (pec more accurately) the border town on the kosovan side of the border. So we googled the vest and quickest way to get to Kosovo from the national park. We thought this would be easy. Maybe 2 buses and take a few hours, simple. We were wrong. There were no buses. At all. The journey was long, windy and barely travelled. This country has not got great social mobility we concluded. But with the only recommended option being to travel back down to Podgorica and then get a bus to pec that arrived at 3am we decided to take it on. Coincidentally, this journey while taking a day and night would also have cost us 52 dollars. To get 3 hours east. Ridiculous. We decided to hitch hike. The journey was supposed to be six parts: 1) zabljak to Tara bridge, 2) tara bridge to mojkovac, 3) mojkovac to bijelo polje, 4) bijelo polje to berane, 5) berane to rosaje and 6) rosaje to pec. Easy as. 6 separate hitches in one day. 6 people nice enough to pick us up off the road and take us closer to our destination. We decided to take Lita of food and water and embarked early the next day upon our adventure. Exciting.

We set off. It was early, not even nine yet. We left for the bus station to see if there were any buses or if they even had any info for us. They didn't. We even met some Serbians who seemed scared for our lives that we were going to Kosovo. Great another good omen. It wasn't looking good for us but we persevered and walked to our street, found our spot, put our bags down and put our thumbs up. It was slow, maybe because there were so many cars right next to the town that no one felt empathetic enough to help us, they shifted blame to each other and didn't feel sorry enough to stop for us. Bastards. But then after 30 mins or so we got lucky and a mini bus with people going rafting was heading straight for Tara bridge, sweet. Trip 1 tick.

We got to the bridge, we hoped he'd stop so we could jump out. To our horror he carried on across the bridge (it was really long and quite narrow. I could see the trepidation in Alina's eyes as she was thinking what I was thinking. Were gonna have to walk back along that.) Then he took us further. Down a hill to the rafting and ziplining area. More walking yay. We got there had some breaky as we waited for him to drive back. He wasn't driving back. He shepherded the rafters to their rafts and came back and good us to wait as we asked if he could drive us back over the bridge. Luckily a man in a yute (his mate) was doing this exact journey and the nice bus driver hailed him down to give us a lift. So we made it to point two of our journey. Sat on the road, just past the stalls selling souvenirs with 40km of winding mountain roads ahead of us. We were there for ten minutes. Maybe 6 cars had gone past, all full. God this may be long. This was the scariest stretch of the journey as there are no buses going along it and very few cars as we've established. But after barely ten minutes a car pulls over, speaking English the two women ask where we're going. We reply "anywhere that direction please, but preferably mojkovac". They pull over, we clear the back seats and jump in. The two of us and our two big rucksacks on our laps. Not much space. It turns out the two women were German so they had a nice German chat with Alina while I sat in the back squished between two bags. They dropped us right off at mojkovac where we hoped to catch a bus only for a taxi driver to tell us there were no buses and we should take his taxi instead. No thank you. We ain't got that mulah. Back to the streets and hitchhiking. Point 3 reached and it wasn't even midday. We were confident.

This confidence was short lived. Maybe 10 minutes as we wandered up the windy road in the heat looking for a good place to stand where the cars could stop for us. We walked up and stopped. We tried to hitch. We didnt get far. No one stopped, some people seemed to be angry at us judging by their faces and gestures. Hmm. Bad signs. So we moved up the street to find a new spot. This was so long as we walked further up the hill, in the furnace midday heat, with our fat bags. It was bleak. Spirits were low. We stood on the side of the road at a bad place on the uphill on a curve. It was crap but we were tired. We kept trying then out of the blue pur messiah arrived. An angry looking man in a big white van. Be stopped we jumped in and we drove towards bijelo polje. As we got close, getting tired of his.... Questionable music he asked where exactly so we said berane, the next stop on our journey and we lucked out as it turned out he was heading there too. Easay oh, two legs in one wooooo baybey. Spirits were high, smiles were worn and we relaxed. These were the hardest parts of the journey down. We got there and crossed another bridge to find a spot for lunch on our road we had to head down. We set up legs three and four done, tick tick.

Our much was nice as we chowed down on our bread and cheese, fig rolls and crisps. We were on a patch of grass in the middle of the road basically in the shade under a sign. It was extremely nice, chilled and relaxing as we took advantage of our moments peace on this long day. There was one thing blocking the peace though. The fact that 60% of the passing cars took huge interest in us as they said hi, honked at us and waved. Very bazaar but a nice change nonetheless from the constant death stares and glowers we have been used to from the majority of people in these post communist countries. At one point a police car even went past and shouted hi at us. That was jokes. We felt welcome. If this was a sign of what Kosovo would be like we knew wed enjoy it and have fun. After lunch we moved ten meters up the road and reassumed our positions. Lowbehold 15 minutes later we had a car pull up and honk us. Bangin. We jumped in. This was a funny journey as the guys who picked us up were two early twenties Serbian psytrance heads.... For those who dont know psytrance is a very fast and aggressive style of music. Similar to dnb x10. They were sound tho and with the slight blip of the fact that they told us they hadn't slept for 2 days aside it was a funny journey as they chatted about the Balkans, festivals, psytrance and how they couldn't and wouldn't go to Kosovo cause they would probably be killed owing to the tense nature of relations between the two nations..... Never the less they got us to rosaje the fifth part of our journey. Tick. Onto the final leg.

We got to the bus station and were immediately hailed down by a man in German who wanted coffee with us. As Alina speaks German this is a common occurrence for us as a lot of old men who have worked in Germany and speak Germany and love Germany want to talk about it. Alina gets stuck talking to them and I am left like a lemon smiling and nodding as much as I can. This man told us the buses to Kosovo had all gone for the day and it would cost 20 euros to take a taxi. This didn't seem bad so we sat and ha d a coffee with him as he found us a driver. One came over. He had poor English but enough to say ten, ten pointing at me and Alina. Cool 20 euros for the two of us that seems fine for a border crossing and a 50km journey. This journey was simple. Through the mountains and across the Montenegrin side of the border. It was then a 20 minute drive till we hit the Kosovo side of the border which begged the question who owns this vast stretch of land in the middle?? According to maps.me it was kosovan though. We got to pec in very good time (much better than 3am) slightly underwhelmed because the last leg of the journey was so simple. But stick one more big tick as we'd completed leg 6. As we got out I gave him a fifty euro note expecting to get 30 change. I got 20. Classic. Excuse me. You told us it was 20. We had a heated exchange for five minutes before Alina realised the issue. Every time he said 30 it sounded like ten. So he'd actually said the same the whole time but wed thought he'd said 20. Very annoying. Whatever though. We saved 25 quid, had and adventure and got in at a much more convenient time. A good little journey.

Anyway the saga is now over by the way and all is well. We are on the bus to pristine now, the capital city. All is well.

See y'all soon, under 2 months!! G.

Ze lakes and ze mowntins

Hello. We are in a new country, yay. We were in Montenegro for a while it turns out, much longer than the other countries, mainly because there was lots to do. We had fun. I write to you now from Kosovo, breaking my tradition of writing on the bus because our journey into Kosovo was unconventional and difficult to find the time and rhythm to write a flowing piece. More on that later. I am currently in the bus station, so not much difference really, in the middle of a potentially stressful saga. Hopefully by the time it has been completed/solved/ended/resolved I will post this because I aibt in a WiFi zone ATM. I am writing now, not because my brain has the urge to express Its creativity but because an old man has Alina stuck in conversation in German about Yugoslavia I believe from the limited words I understand and we have 3 hours to kill. This should take up lots of that I hope, I may even give you a whole post about the trip to Kosovo if you like.

I left you all at the coast, after a weeks sunning and chilling, since then we have been to three places (notice three, the convincing number when essay writing): lake skadar, podgorica, and the durmitor national park. Let's go. So we went to a wee town called virpazar on the lake because it was said to be more "busy" than any of the neighbouring towns. The only was this could be true would be if the other towns were inhabited by 8 people. Oh yeah we actually visited one and yes it did have a population of maybe 30. Virpazar was a nice size, had a good vibe and the right amount of "busyness" for us. We arrived and walked to our campsite. A mile walk. In the midday heat. It was intense. And highly sweaty. We got to a sign "500m to campsite". Ok we can make this. Then right below it "autokamp 20m". Interesting. We went in, same price, closer to town, had a shower and toilet. Fine, we'll stay here. This lady's campsite survived we think because lazy backpackers who can't be bothered to go all the way to the official campsite stop in her garden, lol. Fair play. It was chilled. Our plan for our few days was to get a canoe, defo. Go wine tasting and go on a walk. We did two out of the three. Sadly wine tasting didn't happen. However, getting a canoe on the lake was one of the best days we've had. Geared up with four bottles of water tonnes of food and a two man canoe for the day, we had a belter. The only downside of the day was the actual canoeing. Lord that was long and tiring. On reflection what would have made the day better would have been having a tiny electric motor on the back so we could chill more. He he. That being said being on a lake meant the waves were generally non existent/very small. We canoed thru canals and across the open lake to a bridge. We then found a beach, cute. Chilled, ate, played cards and swam, easy. Next we paddled along and across the lake to the islands on the other side. That was a struggle. Intense paddling, chanting and extreme motivation got us there. We then found a private beach. Yeay. I say beach there was a metre bit of beach and lots of rocks. But it was ours. From there it the real struggle. Against the wind and waves we bombed forwards, doomsaying and paddling. I won't lie that 15 minutes was bleak. But we found a alleyway in between the waterlillies which protected us from the waves and life was good again. We floated thru this idyllic alleyway and even found a way thru the reeds and grassland. It was beaut. We carried on in this vein floating thru Lilys and sitting sunbathing in the canoe. It was lush. By six we made it home making it a nice day long activity. If y'all ever fins yourselves on lake skadar get a canoe and not a boat trip. The next day we went on a nice walk along a road round the lake to a neighbouring town. Nice views. But it was hot. We got there, happy with the walk but then realised we had to get back ahhhhhhh. Luckily we found a lush fig tree with loads of figs and a nice taxi driver let us hitchhike with him back to virpazar. Perfect. A nice lil trip. Then it was on to 

Podgorica, the less said about this place the better. The capital of Montenegro. The most underwhelming place I've ever been. It was butterz and boring. We moved on. The best thing about Podgorica was that I couldn't say Podgorica and kept calling it pogdorica instead. That shows the extent of its allure to us.

We then bombed it up to zabljak. An idyllic little town in the durmitor national park up north in the mountains. It looked like a little swiss skiing village just a little bit less pretty and more random. It was nice. We had a homestay organised with an old lady who spoke not a word of English and had no signs to her house, not even on the house. Useful. We got to the area, with three houses but couldn't find it. We had an old lady shouting out of her window giving us directions, in Montenegrin. Pointing us to a house opposite. We went there. Asked if it was the place. No. Do you know this place? No. Then her daughter arrives who has perfect English and says she knows it. It turns out the house was 20 metres down the road and the old lady was her mums close friend but she only knows the lady by her nickname so didn't recognise the guesthouse name. Wow. They were literally two letters different. Lol. But was made it and after a slight issue on the pricing (our fault) all was sorted. Our plan for the next Day: hike. Woo yay. We planned the simple day walk around the three lakes you can walk to from the town. The whole day went perfectly.  We wandered down relatively early along the road with the other tourists. It was busy, didn't look good. We paid the three euros entry and walked along to the first lake. Very easy. It was also buff. Lovely. It looked like a lake from Canada or  Switzerland. Gorgeous. We wandered around it, scrambling over rocks and the further we got the less people there were, good. It seemed most people got there and took pictures then left. The lake was clear, had two parts and mountains rising Up around it with Christmas trees everywhere, all over the mountains. Very pretty and xmassy. I went for a swim in the lake, it was cool and lush. Not too cold. We carried on our walk around and on to the next lake. A nice little hike with barely any people. We got there. It wasn't as clear as the other one. More like lake skadar. Green with lilies everywhere. It was nice. We wandered around getting a good amount of exercise and fresh air. We ventured on. The third lake was cool, they were all very different. This was in the middle of grassland and as you got closer you sank in to the lake as it expanded. This was it as we went home thru the little town in the park and they the mountains. And what made it all better? Within five Minutes of returning home it started to rain AND Tottenham beat fulham. What a day.

I think I'll speak about our journey in a separate blog post. Which I'll actually write now cause we still have two hours to kill. So you'll get a double post from me.

Pray for us as this saga is still not over. G.

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Oh you have an old town? Please tell me more about it.

Ye we get it you've got an old town. Oh it has a wall around it? Tell me more. Bloody old towns. Everyone's bloody got one, their "stari grad". While they're bangin and highly impressive, when every man and his dog and probably his cat too has got one they become less impressive and exciting. He he he. I jest. Well not entirely. The last four towns we've been to have had well preserved, on the whole, old towns so they are becoming less mind blowing, less blood pumping, less breathtaking. Having left y'all at Dubrovnik and the eventful border crossing it was into Montenegro. Yay wool. Its Been pretty lush so far. Lots of beaches and sun, oh yeah and lots of old towns I can't remember if I mentioned that. The only problem is that we went to the biggest, most well preserved, richest and most beautiful old town first, Dubrovnik. Then the prettiest and most authentic second, Kotor and then on to the smaller, yet still nice old towns third and forth, budva and ulcinj. I have lots to cram into this post and only a short bus journey so I'll have to be short and sweet, a little test for me if you will. Let's see how I do. Kotor. Close to the border. In a nice bay. Nestled in the mountains. It was enchanting. The streets of the old town were narrow and windy, very easy to get lost in but as it was so small it was no real issue working your way home. The wall encompasses the city and backs onto the water on one side. With a moat made from the sea around the city wall to the mountain. Well cool, it feels like being back in medieval times or on age of empires as you stand on the barricades overlooking the moat and the ocean with the mountains in the back, surreal. VERY different from ANYTHING I saw in Australia, lol. The walls don't stop at the mountain tho, that would be boring. They also go all the say up to the top of it and back down again to complete the circle. Wow. That must have been a tough one to make. At the pinnacle there's also a citadel. Yeah baybey. I love citadels. Especially when they're on mountains. You can climb up to it too. It gave an immense view. It costs €8 normally, urgh, but luckily our free tour guide (shock we did another free tour) told us about a free way to get to the same spot as we even went back down the paid way and ended up in the middle of the town yay. What a legend, he saved us €16. It was very touristy which was annoying but nothing close to Dubrovnik luckily. Oh yeah and there are tonnes of cats there and even a crazy cat lady who breeds and feeds them lol. The city is literally famous for their cats ahahaha. They're all super lazy, extremely well fed and very used to humans. They have an extremely easy lifestyle, no effort, ample food and all they have to do is put up with photos and being picker up, chillers. Oh yeah one final thing we did was go to perast, a town around the other side of the bay. Very small, right on the water and beautiful. Very magical and pretty. We didn't get to explore much cause it was so hot and we wanted to go to the beach, read beach as concrete patch next to the water. It was a lush day tho, crystal clear water, perfect temperature, lots of shithead, a fee beers and a good tan. Yes bloody please. Ok Kotor done, tick, next. We moved onto budva next another old town, shock and another touristy town, shock. Are you getting the gist of this piece noe? There are maybe three enduring themes: old towns, beach days and tourists. I'll start with the old town. It was pretty, very quaint and boutiquey, although we didn't explore much as it was small and hot, again, with not that much going on that you didn't have to pay for. They were very money grabbing there, much more so than Kotor which had a much nicer old town. City wall walk? €2. Go in the citadel? €4. Panoramic view of the city? God knows how much. So we wandered around and the buggered off. Budva as a whole tho (outside the city walls is very different). The best way to describe it is... Wannabe ibeza/Mallorca, you get me? Thousands of holiday makers. Every piece of beach is covered by a beach bar, umbrellas, people, paragliding. Its too much. Tough to enjoy. Even the nice beaches in the coves behind the old town are ruined because they are just so busy (and hot). There are donner kebab shops everywhere, fair ground rides, souvenir shops, outdoor clubs blaring tunes and guess what? Lots of people. Not overly enjoyable but it was still nice to chill on the beach even with all the people. Oh yeah we also camped there which was nice. Good to see the tent being used and saving us lots of money. K marts finest has treated me very well in fact actually. Oh yeah a funny little story from budva. Alina was getting an Ice cream for 50c. She got it. We gave over five euros and got €4.20 change. I realised 30 seconds later that wed short changed so we returned hoping it hadn't been on purpose. We told the lady. She was very nice but said no thats the right amount. Ok. The sign there says 50c tho so where's the Other 30c? Oh, you have to pay for the cup. 30c. Its the same for the cone. So all ice creams are actually 80c not 50 unless we get them in our hands? Yes. She obviously had hoped we hadn't noticed and never mentioned the price or else we wouldnt have got it as I'm sure people on the past haven't got it previously. Stupid system. Just tell us the bloody price and stop trying to rip us off. We kept the ice cream in the end tho, yolo and all that. Lord. Our final coastal stop. The one we've just left about half an hour ago. I'm writing this quickly woohoo. Very efficient, no rambling. Ulcinj. We were the for just two nights. Its another beach town. Not as bad as budva, but still in a similar, but much less extreme vibe. Nice beaches, nice people and a small old town. The old town was tiny, very little going on. Picturesque yes but we think we saw the majority of it in 15 minutes, so naturally we left to get food. Sorry culture I think we failed you here. However, I will say it had an immense sunset. So clear you could see the sun the while way as it dipped into the sea. We saw each colour and each stage of the sunset in such detail as it coloured the sea and the sky beautifully. Very nice indeed. More than can be said for the bay beach next to the town. The sand was brown. The beach was filthy, rubbish everywhere and we could only imagine super busy during the day. We went in the evening after it rai Ed so it was quiet and almost beautiful as we had the bay, the mountains on one side and the old town on the other on the cliff. Yesterday we went to the beach again, shock. Its a tough life sometimes. This was the best yet tho. We went to long beach. So called cause its very long.... Inventive eh? It then comprised of maybe 50 sub beaches all run by a beach bar and called names such as (get ready for this they're hilarious): miami beach, Florida beach, pearl beach, mohito beach, white beach, copacobana beach and so on, they probs even had Ebola beach and genocide beach somewhere as they ran low on ideas. We skipped these. Well we got the free bus to pearl beach but wanted to get past long beach to ado bajan. An Island beteeen two rivers at the end of long beach. This is an FKK area. A nudist beach. Clothing not optional but prohibited, lol. I've wanted to go to one of these for ages. It was liberating. And the nicest beach day yet, a quiet beach, warm shallow water, sun, it was lush. However, downside my bum (which has never ever seen the sun, probably ever) is noe redder than the spot in the middle of the Japanese flag. It is burnt. Not too painful except when I carried my big rucksack, this rubbed a bit making it quite uncomfortable. However, the experience of naked sunbathing WaS very enjoyable, liberating and refreshing, especially when swimming. I may now never Come home and live in a naked community somewhere on the other side of the world. Clothes are shackles. Anyhow, we're heading to lake shkadar or something. A big lake with hiking, canoeing and fishing I believe. It should be chilled. I'll write next when we head to Kosovo. Peace and love. G.

The EU: a border less society.

There I am. I am sat in the bus. I am trying to keep my mind occupied, busy so as to speak, in a vain attempt to help time pass as I wait for the, surely, inevitable and imminent return. I even finish off the blog during this period. My style and penache so sadly lacking as my mind is so clearly not in it. I have eaten two more bread rolls. Nervous eating? Maybe this is the way for ms to gain weight. Keep me on edge with ample food to consume. The bus is still. No movement. It has been like this for maybe 30 minutes. This is not the issue, although, it is the issue for the majority of the bus. My fear. My anticipation. My thoughts are not widely mirrored throughout the bus. There are others though. They are wondering similarly to me. The stakes for these bystanders are not so high however. They are merely curious but still we have a shared sense of wonder and confusion. There is a lady in the front of the bus, she is almost as involved as myself in this mystery. I approach her. She speaks no English, great. We exchange words, hand gestures and bewildered looks. More people are getting antsy. The tension within the bus is increasing by the moment. There are more fidgety movements. More craned heads and more whispers of disquiet. I feel we are on the same side. I head back to my seat frantically covering and recovering all of my options in my head. Some seem much more practical and pleasant than others. All the mean time I am wondering, what has happened? Will we ever cross this border. This journey began for us in Dubrovnik, it was not long and had only been an hour or so until the border crossing. It seemed like an inoquous journey, nothing exciting. I had my music on and was furiously blogging. Alina sat next to me was plugged into her phone too. She had had stomachs cramps earlier in the day but seemed all the better. Within 10 mins of the journey however they returned. The bug inside her coupled with the windy roads and rickety bus had created a horrible cocktail of illness in her belly. She sat ridgedly still staring at a single spot out of the window and wedging herself still between the window and chair. She looked in much discomfort. The journey drew on. I was nervous. Please dont be sick. I hope you feel better. Things were not looking up however. Coaches are not a good place to be I'll especially when the toilet is closed. I get up and shuffle down the corridor to the driver. "Can we open the toilet please mate?". No. Border in 10 minutes. Not a nice man. This feeling was echoed by many of our fellow journeymen. I regale the news. She wasn't happy but troops on. We reached the border soon after, phew. I retraced my steps. "Can she go to the toilet now please?". The toilet was ten metres in front of the coach. We could see it. We were in a long queue. "No" was his response. I explained the situation. Same response. I returned. Alina was not happy. So she stood up. Trying to fight the sickness. I searched for a plastic bag as a last resort. I found it. She could not hold it in any longer. With waves of sickness coursing thru her she strode to the front. The aggressive driver gave her the same response. She lingered while he went out for a cigarette. What?! A kind lady at the front stood up. She knocked on the window and conversed with the man. To all of our relief he opened the door. They glided out and into the toilet. The tension dropped. I relaxed and they go the fresh air and toilet Alina needed. Crisis averted. The lady came back ten minutes later. The bus still hadnt moved. Another 20 minutes passed and I began to feel a sense something in my tummy. Something wasn't right. Why hadn't she returned? I went back to writing my blog. The bus moved forwards, past the toilet. I stand up. I look at them. She isn't there. A girl in front confirms. They are empty. This is when the panic hits me. Has she gone AWOL? Has she been kidnapped? Have the border police got the German vagrant dodgily wandering around the border crossing? We do not know. I have her passport, her phone, her bag and her money. She can't have pulled a runner. Do I get off the bus? Do I look for her? Should I take the bags? I put off leaving the bus. I wait for us to get out our passports, only then will I consider drastic action. Alina was in the toilet. Feeling better. She decides to return to the bus, clean of sick and a new clear head. She looks outside, has a peer around, where is the bus? She cannot see it. Stress kicks in as she realises they've left without her. She strides towards the border guard to find out where the bus has gone. Sadly he speaks Little English. What he does understand though is that she is looking for a bus. He tells her the bus has gone to the Montenegrin side. Her suspicions are correct. The bus has gone. George has deserted her. She panics and decides to go after the bus. The border officer asked where she is from considering she is at an international border and trying to cross to another country. She replies "Germany". Mr border guard waves her through. Without need for a passport. She crossed the border without a passport. Power walks down the hill towards the other side. Maybe 600 metres later at the "welcome to Montenegro" sign she doubts her plan. Confusion running through her head. Where should she go? Still without her possessions. There she stood unknowing over next move and desperate to find the bus. The bus has started moving again. We are getting closer to the border and passport check. No word has been mentioned of the missing girl by the driver. Is that what they do out here if there's been an annoyance with a passenger? They just leave them at the border and be gone. Then all of a sudden the girl in front looks back and says "there's your friend". She was right. Alina in all her glory calmly walks onto the bus apologising left right and centre. She walks over, blushing but looking better than last time wed seen her like an hour ago. She tells her tale to me as I laugh hysterically and question how she didn't see the bus considering it hadnt moved... While quite concerning how easily Alina managed to cross the border this may be a good sign that angalas border less EU is taking shape as we done even need passport anymore. He he he. G.

Sun, sea and shithead

Hello moto. Another very... Out there title eh? It is that time again. I am here and I have lots of news for you. By lots I mean, quite little really but I have to blog before I get to the black mountain?? What is this black mountain I speak of? Ah for those Spanish speaking whizzes reading this you'll know the translation of this is Montenegro. The country. You know? You've probs heard very little of it. I know literally nothing but it is a country I am excited for and Alina has been itching to visit for months. We are literally quaking in our boots in anticipation of maybe the greatest country in the world. Ok maybe it won't be the best but expectations are high. Yay. Also another border crossing, woooo. There's been a lot of border crossings, occupational hazard of going round relatively small countries. Also, side note. I didn't get a leaving stamp from Bosnia hmmm. Firstly why did I get one in the first place? We're both in the EU. Brexit hasn't happened yet mate. Stop discriminating. God damn it. Alina didn't get a stamp, I did. It made No sense. I can only assume they thought I'd try and stay past brexit and become an illegal immigrant. Yet I've left so ha. They lose, I win... OK. Yeah but then when we went on to Croatia they drove straight past the border crossing without stopping, like at all. They just sped thru. Hmmmm. The inconsistency between border crossings has been an unfathomable mystery I've been probing in my mind. Some they dont stop you. Some they look at your passport. Some you stay on the bus. Some you get off. And some they have border guards shouting at you, not pointing any fingers (Serbia). So I hope this one I won't be pulled up for having no exit stamp. That would seriously dampen my trip. And be an irritating time and monetary inconvenience. #Pray4George. Anyhow, you'll find this out after my next post. Ill find out in an hour... For now you just get to hear more about our beautiful, relaxing, chilled out coastal camping time yeaaaaay. So we stayed in neum for four nights, where I posted my last blog from. I can't remember all I said last time so please excuse if I sound like a broken record and my repetition kills your brain cells. So this was the first use of the k mart tent and SLEEPING BAG ONESIE since leaving oz. It was emotional for me. And epic. We didn't put the lid on the tent so the roof was just a mozzie net. Breezy and you got lits of natural light. Plus being a three man tent there was lots of space. Alina even got to experience the beauty of the onesie first hand. A prestigious moment that I imagine will stay with her for the rest of her life, although as it was 30 degrees she didn't use it to its fullest potential unlike in the arctic conditions of central Australia at night. In the immortal words of Dwayne "the rock" Johnson: you're welcome. The campsite was nice although it had one toilet and one shower. Icky. Smelly. Gross. Wet. Feral. These are just an array of words I would use to describe them. Especially when there were 40 people staying there. Aside from this we had fun. Cheap, beers and lots of cards. There was one game we played, a lot. And those of you familiar with it will know from the title. Those not, will think my profanities are taking the best of me. Shithead. What a game. One I learnt as a wee infant with one Ashley beddows, then more innocently known as the magic game, it took hold of me and has been a staple of my life, especially while travelling or when skiing with the cousins. It is now also in Alina's lifeblood. We may have played over 100 maybe 200 games in like a week. Addiction. It is a cruel thing. One that we do not understand and can often underestimate until we are taken under its grips. Like meth addicts desperately looking for their next hit, Scrounging money for a few hours high, we scoured the streets for cards and when we found them we sprinted back to camp to let the games commence. We havent looked back. We could be anywhere now, we can't stop staring at those cards and threeing each other. Machu pichu? No thanks I'd rather win at shithead. We have an issue. Please. Call social services. We are addicts. We need help. We need our family. Mum. Dad. Hannah. Jessica. Rowland. If you're out there reading this please, hear my call and get us help. Lol. Ok neum was nice we went to the stone beach each day searching for shade. Its very hot here but the shade is perfect. Only issue we aren't the only ones desperately seeking shade. Everyone was, it was like some kind of teisted pilgrimmage where the shade was the statue of a virgin mary we pray to to cure our illnesses. There were however, some tanning machines who just took the sun in all its glory and power. There was limited shade but we generally found it as we cosyed up next to randoners, we sat on their feet and straddled their lilos. It was funny. The sea was gorgeous though, warm yet refreshing from the midday heat. The beach was also the ideal spot for some German lessons which have been under way (sporadically), for a few weeks now. Lots of vocab. I'm building my repertoire before my fluency comes. A zommershpraser for example is a freckle, it translates to summer sprinkle - cute. Only isuue is as its all oral my spelling is atrocious. Alina is a good teacher though. So give it a week and I'll be writing sonnets and reading ancient German texts. So apart from cards and tanning there isn't much to report from our time in neum (we're both very tanned tho, yeaaaaah baybey). Be jealous. Oh yes one more thing. There was some kind of travelling christian cult in our campsite who look to "help" disadvantaged, vulnerable kids in Bosnia. Hmmm. Sketchy. They even tried to convert both of us simultaneously in German and English. Very amusing. My guy, also from Guildford, lol, very random, that was his in by the way, how he began the conversion. He failed. He cited the illuminati and giants and conspiracy theories in his "sermon". It was hard to take him seriously before, this made it impossible. They both failed we are not a part of their cult (you're welcome). Amusing nonetheless though. Alina's "messiah" was an ex heroin addict who claimed the gift of god was better than any high he'd ever got, lol good joke. The simultaneous looks on our faces showed our disbelief in what they were trying to do. An outsider, a bystander that is would have had a chuckle I reckon. So the second part of our coastal adventure was the immense Dubrovnik. This is a city I have heard about for years from a variety of people. But never really thought about. Then when I found out we'd be going straight past it I pushed for us to make a stop there, Alina agreed. Only issue. It is super touristy and super expensive. Cheapest hostel €25, urgh. 1 night it is then. So we embarked upon our 24 hours in Dubrovnik, the UNESCO world heritage site. There is one thing for certain. That title is fully deserved. While a little part of me wants to revisit and rewrite the immortal "we h8 tourists" post from vietnam on Christians blog, my overwhelming desire (for once) is to talk about its beauty and the awe we (I especially) felt. I say I especially because of my obsession with walls, history and battles. Its like age of empires (the game I used to play? Or black and white 2 (another game I used to play) or game of thrones or lord of the rings. It is sick. So its an old town, very rich and is completely surrounded by the impeccable, huge, And fully preserved 2km wall. Every single inch of ground within these walls, that were built from the 1300s to the 1600s, is being used and covered in stone. Game of thrones was filmed there, it quite literally felt like being in GoT or LoTR as you wandered around the tiny alleyways that were super steep up the hill or as you leaned against the huge 20ft high walls. It was immense, Beautiful and unbelievably impressive. It was awesome, another few days would have been nice but one day was enough to see it all and experience the city. We also went to the small little beach next to the old town that was split in two. Free beach and the bar's paid beach. These halves were the same size but while the free part was rammed, no space to lie down fully the paid half had maybe 30 people on its 100 sun loungers. Ridiculous. It was a nice lil beach tho, sea still lush and a nice view of the city. We also went on a nice boat trip round the city and the island. Very relaxed and a nice view of the city. It was a good day spent and funnily enough the best view we got was on the bus just now on the way out as it climbed a fee hundred metres up and we saw right down over Dubrovnik. A successful few days for us as we head to Montenegro. I look forward greatly to regaleing the tales of this great journey. Bye bye. G. PS. I got thru the border fine. However, I have a very funny story from this crossing, all will be shared in good time.

War tourism: dutyful or distasteful?

So its been a while since I was active on this social media forum. Read "a while" as almost a week ago. It has been a productive week, one that has seen us discover Bosnia, learn about recent travesties and eat copious amounts if grease, yum. Bosnia it is safe to say has blown our expectations and left us suitably whelmed (yes the word whelmed is a thing in our vocab. It is when you are not over nor under whelmed so you are merely whelmed.) Having dithered about actually coming to Bosnia having bit heard much about it, our decision to come has proved very right and we're very glad we've come. Coincidentally, we're still actually in Bosnia and Herzegovina (currently in Herzegovina) at the seaside yaaaayy the sea. Its mid thirty degrees, finally we can see what everyone is england and Germany has been complaining about, and were camping for €5 euros each a night, perfect. The Bosnian coast is pretty funny cause its sandwiched in between two parts of Croatia, split and Dubrovnik and is only 12km long, luckily for us though it is 10 times cheaper than Croatia, which is why were here obvs, same coast but way cheaper. We are heading to Croatia next tho woooo but only to Dubrovnik to see some game of thrones, yeah baybey. But that is for a later post at a later time. Back to the present I am writing this currently sat on the stone beach overlooking the beaut sea under a palm tree. So let's recap the last week xoxoxo. The title should give a nice indication for the flow of this piece I believe. Bosnia has been tormented in living memory by the plight of war, siege and ethnic cleansing. The two cities we visited: Sarajevo and mostar are two of the main examples of these with the town of serbrencia (or something like that) being the third most eminent example of this. We went to a photo gallery/museum on sebrencia to gain an idea of the horror that occurred there. It was striking in Sarajevo how central war tourism was to the city and its culture. Unsurprising when the city has undergone a 44 month siege under 25 years ago. But every shop is selling bullets, guns, used helmets and some of the hostels are even called the Franz Ferdinand hostel (as ww1 started there) and the war hostel (a bit morbid eh?). The wars have dictated the tourism and a lot of the city. So, we decided to do a walking tour (free obvs. Who do you think we are?! Rich. Uh no.) It was good, we were the obly two on it, the guide was nice, it was chilled and we had fun although it didn't mention the siege much at all, you had to do a 20 euro tour to hear about that, no thanks. So we took history into our own hands and visited two museums, cultured AF I know. One as mentioned on the serbrecnia genocide and one on the siege of Sarajevo. They both helped impress the horror and death and destruction of the two events into our brains. It was all quite morbid and depressing really but also eye opening how such awful things could have happened in Europe in the age of the un during (just) our lifetimes. Mad. And we've barely heard anything of it. My degree was international relations and I'd only even heard of Bosnia because of a single case study I'd done in lower sixth, madness. Anyhow we feel a duty to preach the terrors we now know to be true. Expect a much more serious George when I return. The city of Sarajevo tho even after these atrocities was beautiful in the old town centre. Very ottoman Turkish styles with small stores, nice restaurants and cool bars with a lot of shisha. Everywhere had shisha. We wandered around d the outer parts of town too which bore much more of the remnants of the war. Bullet holes were a standard in most building and whole, empty and abandoned buildings were a norm, really sad but very striking. Im glad we saw it all. Oo last thing on Sarajevo. We wandered to a fort. The fort wasn't that exciting but the view was immense over the town and across a graveyard of identical white tombstones, another foreboding reminder of the past. It was jokes tho because there was a wedding photoshoot going on and twice we we in their shots and asked to move with the second time us actually having them taking our spit that we were in first, obvs we just know the best spots and they were jealous he he he. The last part of our time in Sarajevo was catching the bus to mostar, should be easy its just a train after all. Firstly we got there 1.5 hours early having got the wrong time for the train. Secondly we had no idea what platform to use as there were no signs and they were so unfriendly. It was deceptively stressful but we got our train. The reason we took the train by the way, not the bus, was cause it was cheaper, shock, and it was meant yo be very picturesque. Spoiler alert: it was. Mostar. We'd been recommended a documentary on the war in mostar as some homework so we'd understand the situation there fully. We did. It was grim. Mostar was massacred and when we saw the resultant city, we got it. Our hostel there was nice. It was small, cheap and had nice owners. The old town if mostar is beautiful. It was completely destroyed in 1995 but was removed with 11 million euros donated by sine eurozone countries. Its very small, cobbled streets and cramped shops. It had an old style beauty to it. Very touristy, thats a given and it was this very busy on these tiny winding roads but that didn't take away from its boutiquey prettiness. What is the main mostar attraction? The old bridge. Built by the Ottomans it was the only bridge, and had the longest arch, 30m, for a long time. It was nice. It was also the spit where locals jump off it Into the river 22m below. Thats very high. I get scared jumping off like 10. Some tourists also do it after a little intro course. It was funny, people give them money, its all good sport. A nice little watch. It was also well hot there, mid thirties. The water was freezing, maybe 10 degrees or lower, very refreshing but bloody freezing. We went for a few swims. We did another walking tour here, shock. It was good but not overly exciting. It was a nice few days capped off by me buying some new trainers. Fake adidas all stars. They look nice let's just hope they dont die on me. Bosnia has recovered a bit from its horrible recent history but is still baring a lot of the brunt of it. They have used the war to promote tourism which, while distasteful in that it caused so much damage and was so recent, has brought in money and promoted awareness of what happened here, or at least in our case. Its been good and I'll write another post after we've left Dubrovnik. What is dead may ever die. G.

A glimpse into the eye of death

A double post, hmmm. An intriguing title. What is happening? Is George merely expanding his poetic license to such an extent that he is merely falsifying events to make them more interesting. Surely not. I write this piece quite out of character and context. I've been sticking with my 'post per country' technique, now, I have diverged. What has prompted this unprecedented move and the shelving of my ordered prose and wonderings? An event of great magnitude, one that may (or may not) shape mine and Alina's future lives. I write this piece now merely hours after my last one, having crossed the border into Bosnia (very exciting). The adrenaline is still coursing thru my veins and my heart beat is akin to that of charlie sheen on the third day of a Bender. I thought now was the perfect time to regale you all with this tale of woe and fear thru the eyes of a survivor, me. We were cruising. The bus was winding around the roads with ease. It was beautiful. We were following the meandering river. The hills rose above us and similarly on the other side of the road. The tunes were banging. The food was being demolished. Perfectly on time to get to Sarajevo spirits were high. All of a sudden, the bus stopped. What? Why? What's going on? A slight level of panic, people stood up and saw a jam of cars. An accident surely. The driver gets out, followed by half the bus. A truck had crashed coming from the other side but had swerved across the road blocking both sides. Ffs. Only six cars in front of us. It was evident it had just happened. We waited. 45 mins later we were still waiting. 1 police car had arrived after half an hour. The signs weren't good. Conversation had switched to deciding who we would eat first if necessary and whether we'd have to drink our own wee. Ew. Survival instincts had taken over. Many cars had turned round and gone back. We could not. Anticipating a long delay we were relaxed. This was when the calls came. On the bus. What?! We ain't going thru and we can't turn. But we obediently obeyed. The bus began to reverse. Wow. A road, two lanes wide. A coach 30 ft long and a long reverse. The bus driver reversed at walking pace. Cars parted, people parted and this was when it struck the other cars. This is gonna take a while. They clambered to follow us. Like a Shepherd leading the sheep or the pide piper and his rodents they followed a converse kind of convoy. How long would we reverse for, we weren't sure although we had only gone past a junction recently. This was when it got serious. A road leading down the mountain off the side of the road. A slip road so to say. Not tarmaced, just stones and mud. He pulled in to it, ah he's letting the cars past good man. This was my thought but my eyes told me otherwise, was I being deceived? Only the man at the wheel knew. He continued turning the wheel. Reversing into this slip way as much as he could. We were sat in the second back row, no seatbelts (not our choice, there are none on the bus, ludicrous) edging towards the cliff edge as it clicks. He's doing a three point turn. Yep he was doing a three point turn on a patch of road three lanes across in a coach with 40 people on it. Oh yeah, on the edge of a cliff with no railings. He edged closer. We gripped the hand rails. Said our prayers. Alina thought wed already died, fave scrunched as she muttered hail marys. He edged closer. Inches till we slipped off and wed have been first to go. He edged more, I swore. And break. He stopped. Drove forward and turned. He completed the three point turn in one go. No wight point turn as I do in my mini Peugeot on a norm road. And he cruised off. The tension was palpable. You could have cut it with a knife. Then it snapped. Applause erupted as we paid homage to our Jehovah. Tears sped out of many eyes. Hugs between random people. Jubilation. I even conversed with a Serbian woman, lots of hand gestures and excitable noises. Words cannot explain (although I tried hard) the tension and emotion flooding thru that coach before and after the incident. It was immense. A true showing of human spirit and togetherness. Get the bus driver to England and give him a knighthood I say. Hail the bus driver. Anyhow, I'm going now. I wanted you to know the story in true detail so I gave it its own post. I hope you can feel what we felt. God bless america. G.