Szentendre (St. Andrew)

Szentendre means St. Andrew and is a town about 20 KM north but outside of Budapest. So you can imagine that we just about fired up our steeds and arrived in Szentendre in no time. Well almost true but first we had to find our way out of Budapest. Since we bummed away Monday waiting for the heavy rain to stop, we were rested enough. The Tuesday morning rush hour and the only one sign policy made it a bit dicey but we did make Szentendre around 11 AM. The weather had improved to a clear sky with the sun shining on us. We arrived and Immediately, I saw a hotel/pension and yes, they had room for us. Parking was in a small lot one block away and A/C was included. Wi-Fi available if you sat in the hall and got the password from the store next door but all worked out well. No, no breakfast unless you like to eat breakfast at 10. No matter we are all set, let’s explore this town. All of our guide books explained that this town is a typical Hungarian town. The roads are cobblestone, the houses small and low. The streets and alley ways look ancient as if still used today by animals. Instead they are traipsed daily by tourists. The whole town is a tourist town. A former artist colony, Szentendre still features plenty of galleries and you can visit if they are open. Nothing is definitely defined here. Businesses open when they please, close when they feel like it. The pace of life is relaxed, easy going. Yes, money is important but so is the chat with the neighbor. We walked the town, covered all there is to see. From the Serbian Orthodox Church with the silvery or golden covered Icons to the open shops, art galleries and even the Marzipan Museum. Carol paid to get in and take some picture of Mickey Mouse in Marzipan but I passed. Sometimes, the ideas are too far out for me to get it and enjoy it.
I did enjoy the exhibition of Margit Kovaks and her ceramic displays. She had a way of showing feelings in working with simple clay and brought her emotions to the front in different ways. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Margit_Kov%C3%A1cs)
Ambling through town, I came past a Jewish memorial site, giving the many names of people that were sent from here to the concentration camps. The only woman that survived settled again in Szentendre and made her front yard a memorial to her former neighbors.
Szentendre is a small town; many people stay here and then take day trips into Budapest since living here is easier and more relaxed. Ships on the Danube take passengers to Budapest but in addition, bring people from Budapest to just visit for the day. It is like an ebb tide; people come and go in swells, stay for a while then leave again. We were the odd ones, the ones that stayed all day. The afternoon started with a change in the weather. Clouds covered up the sky, darkness fell a bit earlier and the rain started to come down in sheets. Ok, we were well taken care of sitting in our hotel, even our bikes were covered. We sat in the hall outside our room working on the blog, writing emails, etc I did not mind the down time, I can always find things to do.
The next morning all of the weather had changed, we had the most glorious sunshine and we are off to Vienna a mere 175 Miles away.

Budapest

Hungary, for the most part, is a flat land; flat like a table top. Riding on straight roads in good condition brought us to Budapest in no time.
We all know that Buda is the hilly part and Pest the flat part of Budapest, right? These two parts only became today’s Budapest when a bridge was built across the Danube River in 1848. Before that time, there were two cities, Buda on the hill, Pest in the flats.
Hungary, like Finland, grew from different roots in Europe. While most countries in Europe have either Germanic or Slavic roots, Finland and Hungary have Finno-Ugric roots. Nomadic tribes from the plains of today’s Siberia/Russia settled and invaded the native Celts and the, by then degenerate, Romans in the late 800’s. The official start of Hungary as a Nation was in the year 895. And what a Nation Hungary turned out to be. Powerful and smart Hungarians ruled until the Ottomans (Turkey) invaded in the name of Allah and then again, until World War 1, when Hungary sided with Austria and lost the war. The history of Hungary is a bit complicated but basically, the Celts were the inhabitants until about 450 AD; along with the Romans in some parts until 430 AD. Then there was a quiet time until about 800 when Attila the Hun invaded the area. After he left, Hungary (Magyaroszag) started. King Stephen was the 1st Christian King and was baptized in about 1000 AD. Christianity and the Catholic faith took hold of Hungary.
I always need these History lessons as orientations. The people we met in Hungary are wonderful people, helpful and friendly. We had no problem with the language because most Hungarians today speak English. The younger generation is well versed in languages and the country today is a powerhouse of ideas and industry.
Coming close to Budapest the traffic increased and the roads multiplied and to make my life easier I cheated for some part of the way and took the toll road without having the proper sticker. The roads close to the Capital of Hungary are like any other Western city and local roads are especially busy. Luckily for us that we did not get caught by the police, because not having the toll sticker could be very expensive. I managed the final parts into town on the local road system and managed to find the center of Budapest after all. I followed the sign for the info center to the old part of the town. Upon arrival I watched the bikes while Carol went inside to look for rooms. After some time Carol came back with arms full of brochures and the address for the Hotel President, a new hotel, close to the Presidential Palace on the Pest side of town. Amazingly, all this was given to Carol by another hotel. The info center could not be found and Carol did well by asking for help while looking for a room in a hotel near our present stop. Not only did the hotel find another hotel for us, they also argued the price down from 85 Euro/night to 60 Euro/night incl. breakfast and parking. Yes, this time we had A/C included and even Wi-Fi. Carol did amazingly well.
We settled into the President Hotel but had to wait a few hours since we arrived at about noon and the rooms were not ready until 2 PM. Absolutely no problem with us, we sat in an air conditioned lobby and each of us had a hotel computer in front of us and checked up on email, read the latest news, did some writing to loved ones, etc.
The hotel room we received was great. Possibly the best room we’ve had on this trip.
We stored away our stuff, and after some time walked to the Hungarian State Opera house to take a tour of this building. Opera is still big in Europe. Hip Hop or Techno music seems to be for the young. The more sophisticated, the more mature or maybe even the more educated people prefer the more difficult, classical music. Opera, too, is part of the elite’s repertoire, and is big business for the city and the daily tourists here in Budapest. Mozart, Beethoven and the famous Hungarian composer Franz Liszt play an important role here. The tunes of the gypsies, transcribed into classical music by Bella Bartok or pieces by Paganini can be heard throughout town. We experienced a transition to sophistication like stepping into a new world. Having come from Albania the transition was especially noticeable. Budapest in the early to mid 19th Century was second next to Vienna (Wien) Austria. While Vienna was the head quarters for the Emperor of the Habsburg Dynasty, Budapest was the playground. Queen Elizabeth (Sisi) was the darling of the ages. As the wife of Emperor Franz Joseph, she made Budapest a focal point. Still beloved today, she was the one who gave permission to build this very elaborate Opera House. Grand staircases, huge marble columns, mirrored halls, etc. This Opera House represents the epitome of the ages of the Biedermeier Period (1812 to 1848) and beyond. Up to World War 1, Budapest was important to the Habsburgs. Many Buildings in Budapest are from the time of the Habsburgs so the look is very ornate. Never-the-less, this decoration adds to the ambiance of an Opera house. Old plays, performed in period buildings, take on some authenticity from their surroundings, by what seems like osmosis. The effect is wonderful. The tenor who sang 2 arias to us after the tour in a powerful, tenor voice made us feel special. The surroundings helped him and all of us to bring the past to the present. Carmen’s Soldiers’ Song was especially moving.
After we visited the most dominant dome, St. Stephen’s Church, we ended day one after a delightful dinner at a plaza right in front of the Basilica.
The next morning a huge breakfast spread greeted us at the hotel. Six different kinds of coffee, several fresh, whole fruits, dried fruits ( prunes, apricots, etc) and canned fruits ( pineapple, peaches), various fish and smoked salmon, different kinds of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, onion rings, hash browned potatoes, different kind of breakfast rolls, breads, fresh cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes and condiments of all kinds, etc, etc. What a feast! We surely do not need lunch after a breakfast like this.
To get a good overview I like to take a Hop On/Hop Off Tour via bus whenever available. Today we spent several hours doing just that. We drove past the parts Budapest considers most important and had a chance to get off and see them for ourselves. We pass on the Hero’s Square and the modern shopping streets but get off at Buda Hill to see the Pest side of town from a higher vantage point. This part of town housed the old castle and was in olden times the refuge and shelter for many when being attacked by others. High up on a hill, crowned with a church, of course, it sits today still dominating the view from the Pest side. This is old history, very old indeed. While we took some pictures of the present day relics of the 17th to 20th Century houses and their many ornate details, we also found the prehistoric part of town up here. Sure, the Baroque Period left its imprint and the view of Pest was delightful and Hungarian architecture and the many colored roofs of the churches were unique, but we chose a different route and went underground.
Budapest sits on a fault line. Hot springs abound and were already praised during Roman times and long before. Roman Spa’s are still in use today. Hot water comes to the surface in some spots and eons before the Romans, even long before the Celts, man has used this area. The hot water and the hot steam created caves and underground caverns millennia ago. For generations, people built on top of these underground cavities and used the existing spaces as their cellars or as storage spots. As late as the cold war during the 1950s and ’60s, these places were used as shelters or storage facilities or secret places by various governments.
Today, these underground passages are accessible to visitors. Evidence was found that cave dwellers used these caves for shelter. The ice age was probably not as cold when you could live with a hot spring next to you. Carol and I explored this underground labyrinth and while most of the installations today are used as a kind of art gallery, the feeling of being below ground, of being primordial is still present. Budapest, artfully sectioned off, and presented the history of the hills of Pest and the geology of the site in a great way. We spend a few hours in the maze of cellars, former hot water channels and darkness. These walks were nice and cool this far below ground, especially when the above ground temp hit 38C (106F) that day.
The heat hit us without mercy once we came out of the cave system and only an Ice cream in the shade could help us recover. We had received a pamphlet last night of a concert in the city of Pest and decided to attend. Using the Hop On/Off Bus we came close to our destination and found, after some questioning, St. Michael’s Church but were a bit early for the performance. There is always a bench someplace and we took the time to write some postcards and Carol spotted a wedding reception right in the middle of the sidewalk. The bride’s maids were licking ice cream and sure enough spilling some of the dripping chocolate Ice cream on themselves in the heat. It was an odd sight for us to see a reception being help on a pedestrian walk, in the middle of the day, everybody dressed up, the bride lovely and smiling while everyone around them went on with their lives.
The concert was lovely and the orchestra played Pachelbel, Vivaldi, Bach and Mozart. The surroundings of the smallish church with great acoustics helped make the evening a delight. Franz Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody #2 added the right paprika spice to the performance. On our way back to the hotel, we passed various artists and performers in the pedestrian section of town who made a living from doing their stints as break dancers, painters of futuristic and fantasy evoked dream landscapes or even as part of a quartet playing classical music. Most of these performers were young and I am sure, just made a few Euros to help them along. The air had cooled down a bit now and after a light dinner in an outside café we returned to the hotel.
Just before entering the lobby we heard loud music and some evidence of a happening close by. Naturally we had to investigate and found, near the American Embassy, a huge crowd sitting on a large grassy area watching a 2010 Soccer World Championship Game. Soccer is a huge part of the Sport Scene here and the crowd was enthusiastic but well behaved. Beer concessions passed out beer in plastic cups and the police were there but did literally nothing more but watch the game too, on the huge, digital display set up just for the occasion. The loud speakers were blaring out the sports commentator, the group of watchers ooohed and aaahed and everybody was having a wonderful time. So, Carol and I bought a beer too, stood on the side lines and watched some of the game too. The night was mild by now and the company we had were cheering and enjoying themselves. Can it get any better than this?
Another fantastic breakfast! Our feet are sore; I have sunburn on my nose. My bones creek when I start to walk, traveling is not easy when sightseeing is involved. So for today we only want to visit Hungary’s Parliament building. This sugar cake looking building, a rather close copy of Westminster Palace in London, is not far from our hotel. We start off in the cool of morning and have to dodge many runners since some kind of field event has been scheduled for the area around Parliament on this Sunday. People of all ages, from very young to rather senior looking folks, run around the streets. I am not sure if it is a Marathon but it does not matter. We just enjoy their enthusiasm while we try to find the entrance to the Parliament buildings. We are early, too early in fact. The first tour is at 11 AM and that leaves us time to just walk about. Idling along the Danube River, seeing the bored security guards, watching the runners and their support groups makes the time go quickly. When we enter the Parliament building we are screened just like an airport. This is serious business now. There are over 1400 rooms in this building and the halls are decked in memorabilia of Hungary. Statues of former Kings, of founders, famous statesmen and artists line the walls and rotundas. One of the sections in Parliament holds the crown of Hungary. Roped off and heavily guarded and alarmed, it is hard to take a picture. Notice the crooked cross on top of the crown. It is said to be the crown which was used to ordain Stephen the First as King of Hungary but latest research showed that some parts of the crown are even older. No matter, it is an old symbol of power, whoever wore this crown was in charge, could do as he pleased, had the ultimate say over everybody.
The building today, this Parliament building, elaborate and old as it seems to appear, is in fact very modern. Every 10 years all rooms, all systems are refreshed and re-modernized. Votes are electronically counted, every word, even whispers are constantly recorded in the entire complex. This is an open, for all and everybody accessible place. Hungary has an open Government. Most Ministries, Education, Economics, Labor, etc are all housed within this building complex. It is a huge set up, all linked together, and all within arm’s reach of everybody. This system works for Hungary and it sure is impressive to see how other nations rule themselves. While we, of course, did not see all the rooms, we did get a positive impression of how things run in Hungary and we could see that democracy has set the way for the future.
The Parliament tour ended and the heat shimmers on the asphalt in the streets, it is hot outside. What to do? Walking around town in this heat is no pleasure so we took a rest for a few hours back at the hotel only to resurface in the late afternoon to attend another concert, this one in the famous St. Stephen’s Basilica. While yesterday’s music was based on baroque masters, this performance was based on sacred works by Handel, Albioni, Vivaldi, Gounod, Dvorak, Liszt, Schubert and Mozart. Compared to the previous night’s performance, this one is more elaborate with Soloists, Tenors and Sopranos and Organ. Yet, sometimes, one player, in this case the organ player, can ruin a terrific and promising set up. Sorry, Mr. Gyula Pfeiffer, your playing was way too loud and your organ play overpowered all. You did not accompany, you dominated each and every piece. It could have been wonderful but because of your dominance the whole evening was ruined. I left disappointed especially since I knew this event could have been delightful, Mr. Pfeiffer.
After we had a bite to eat and swished down the musical experience with a beer or two, we returned to the hotel. I woke up at night to loud thunder, to lighting and when it got light enough to see anything outside we decided to stay another day, doing nothing but write, read and bum. Why ride in this rain, why battle downpours like this? Tomorrow is another day; I will go to Szentendere tomorrow.

Szeged, Hungary

Our goal for today is the city of Paprika, Szeged in Hungary. Our anticipation is high, this city received an award as the most progressive Hungarian city and we expect the world. I expect spices and exotic markets. My mind is drifting off as I ride along, thinking of all the new, interesting and unusual things just across the border.
Not long after leaving the town of Zrenjanin in Serbia, we are stopped by two Serbian police officers. I had to be daydreaming because I saw them too late. I know that the Russian style police control is always before or after a city. I should have been more watchful. The older officer, not speaking anything but Serbian, asked for my passport. I asked him for the direction to the next bigger town. He looked at me, shook his head and asked me again for my passport, I smiled and asked him again for the direction to the next town. This back and forth questioning works sometimes but not this time. The young officer stepped forward and in excellent English, asked for my passport and papers for the bike. According to him we were 25 KM over the speed limit and this infraction allows them to issue us a huge ticket and hold our passports and bike papers. We can come back to retrieve our papers and passports after we show up with a receipt from the post office that we paid the fine. This is the Serbian law. He and the older officer would wait there until we come back. So, would I please give him my passport and the papers for the bike?
Now this is a tricky situation, Carol does the smart thing, she keeps totally quiet. I am determined not to separate myself from my passport and papers.
After some talking, I convinced the young man that we were only travelers visiting his beautiful country and that we did not really mean to speed. I told him I did not see the 60 km sign. The normal speed on this kind of highway is 80 km anyhow and we were riding at 85 km, an acceptable speed. I told him we are not in Serbia to race; especially at our age. We are here to learn from the Serbian people and have them take a good look at us, an American and a Canadian etc, etc.
With a nod from the older officer the young officer told us the direction to the next bigger city and we were on our way again. It could have been nasty but it worked out well enough. In general, I really do not try to speed. I sometimes accelerate to a brisk pace outside of town, but in town I go with the local traffic. I respect the wishes of the locals as to what they consider a good speed. Yet once out of town, in the fields, in the woods, I play it safe, too. I do not ride above my abilities or my range of sight. So I feel I did not lie to the officer when I told him that I am just a traveler, passing through his country. Both officers were just doing their job, all worked out well. I am glad they gave us a break. Thanks!
The border crossing into Hungary went without a problem, I had the Insurance papers already from Stefan Knopf and getting money exchanged was easy as well. Entering Szeged, I did my usual thing and asked a taxi driver for a good hotel. With many hand motions we found the hotel he indicated and parked our bikes inside a court yard, safe and away from traffic.
Immediately I noticed the difference in many things in Hungary. I noticed the Hungarian language is difficult. It is not Slavic or German or Latin Based. The language derives from an inner Mongolian/Hindu mix and I cannot read or speak anything, except the word paprika. Prices are expensive. The hotel charges 60 Euros per night incl. breakfast but only after some haggling. Traffic is heavier than in Serbia. The streets seem cleaner, the country as a whole wealthier. Hungary is an EU nation although they still have their own currency, the forint. About 265 forints equal 1 euro. Also I find the Hungarians cunning. When we wanted to put on the air conditioning in our room, the outside temperature was 104 degrees Fahrenheit (37 C) we were told that this would result in an extra charge. Carol paid it since I was fuming and refused to give them any more money.
The town of Szeged is a modern town, nothing romantic about it. No paprika stores, no spice markets, just a pedestrian street like any European city. Many young people are about since it is a university town and yes, the city is thriving. Not in the romantic ways I had in my head but as a small metropolitan city with a good university. Many statues caught my eye. Modern but also older looking sculptures were placed in many conspicuous spots and added to the happy mood of the place. For the romantic in me I want to mention the violin players, playing gypsy music on the streets. This sound is fast and passionate and the melody has a soul and sound unique in this world.
Carol and I took a walk along the Danube River which runs along the University buildings. I was surprised to see so much trash floating in the water. Yet, people swim in this water. A few huge barges were tied together and anchored near shore and created, in the center of these barges a swimming pool. The bridge leading to the barges had fallen into the river on one side and this bridge was just a nuisance to shipping. The collapsed bridge only served as a boom to collect ugly debris. To get to the swimming hole inside the floating barges, a small boat had to be pulled by hand from shore to this floating barge island. The whole if it seemed cumbersome, difficult, not smart and very unsanitary.
Walking past the center hall of the University campus I saw a sign, written in Hungarian, of course, that spelled out that Vitamin C was first derived here and that it was taken from ‘paprika‘. Now it makes sense to me why Szeged is called the Paprika City. It is not because of the selling of spices as I had thought, but for the research in this medical school that yielded an understanding of the effect of vitamins on our bodies and the first extraction of Vitamin C and other Vitamins from certain fruits, vegetables and spices. This University extracted large amounts of Vitamin C from paprika and the name Paprika City stuck. Szeged is a modern city living a modern life. Not like in my mind, a historical relic with an old spice market.
Quote from Wikipedia: Capsicum peppers used for paprika are unusually rich in vitamin C, a fact discovered in 1932 by Hungary's 1937 Nobel prize-winner Albert Szent-Györgyi Much of the vitamin C content is retained in paprika, which contains more vitamin C than lemon juice by weight.
Paprika is also high in other antioxidants, containing about 10% of the level found in açaí berries. Prevalence of nutrients, however, must be balanced against quantities ingested, which are generally negligible for spices.

I learned that Salami, the Hungarian Salami, spicy hot, had its origin here, too. The firm of Pick still makes Salami in a big way. Carol wanted to see their museum but we never made it to the out of town tour and the small museum which only opened from 3 to 6 PM each day.
I had a unique dinner that night, soup made from sour cherries with no pits but sugar added. It was a new experience. Carol found it too sweet; I ate the whole thing, a huge bowl full.

Zrenjanin, Serbia

Breakfast in the morning was a Russian Breakfast. No coffee, but very good tea was served. The buffet table had the obligatory cucumbers and tomatoes and black, Russian bread was in the bread basket. We ate and started our ride along the West end of the Danube River, following close to shore.
After leaving Kladovo the road became very twisty and would have been fun to ride if it were not for the condition of its surface. Seemingly at random, large rectangular or square patches had been cut about 2 or 3 inches deep into the surface of the road. Let’s call them planned potholes!
Dangerous and with sharp edges they were cut into the road in preparation for repairs but those repairs never happened. The potholes were placed at angles that are very dangerous to a 2 wheeled vehicle. Entering at the wrong angle would certainly lead to you spilling your bike and leaning your bike would definitely create a severe crash. Carol and I tried to miss as many as we could by riding in between the cut outs yet we hit some doozies. Not only do those mean holes shake up your bike and your bones and rattle everything on and in the bike, but the sharp edges of the hole cut into the tires, also. Riding became a slalom run on curvy roads. I think somebody planned this with a vicious idea in mind. Just when you think you have it all figured out, this devious mind added tunnels. And yes, within the tunnels were those holes, too. Then, this mind does not add lights to the tunnels and now you ride in the dark with your headlights only, trying to find those potholes. After you think you found a solution this sick mind adds curves inside the tunnels to screw with you a bit more. Observing the color changes in the roads makes the cut outs somewhat visible and you can pick a line to avoid them, even if it means riding on the left side of the road sometimes. Sure, some holes go across the whole width of the road and there is just no way. BAM! You hit one of those suckers. Your bike shakes; you check your tires and add 25 cents to the swear jar. After 50 miles of riding like that you notice you never looked at the panorama. You are fighting to get going and 3 hours have passed by. Now something new is added. Tar has been painted in some of the holes so it is harder to see the color change. BANG! You hit another one! Then, some holes are fixed, some are not. You cannot tell, really since they come at you fast, 2nd gear is actually fast enough but you are in nowhere land, in a National Park kind of setting. Very few cars pass you, they have it a bit easier since they have 4 wheels but they too, hit hard. Some buses creep along, you pass them and ouch, you hit another cut out. Whoever thought about fixing roads like this has never ridden a motorcycle. The condition of the road was awful. We managed to get across the Gap section of the River Danube but I cannot say I enjoyed it. From the little we saw the panorama is not worth the difficulty we encountered. Bad suggestion, Mr. Croatia, we should have gone a different way across Serbia. Coming out of this nightmare at the small town of Veliki we took a well needed break and sipped some water to cool off our tempers. The sun had beaten us up at 37 degrees Celsius ( 104 F ) and we were glad to ride on a normal road.
Our next experience was a ferry crossing near the ancient town of Bela. I did not know there were only two ferries per day. Arriving 10 minutes before the afternoon ferry was pure luck. The ferry itself was homemade. The warped boards of the deck stood at nutty angles but we got across. That we had to ride unto the ferry using a gravel ramp and full speed, that we were almost the only passengers, that getting off needed a shovel to create another gravel ramp and good balance on our part we will not consider dangerous. By now, this is part of travelling in the Balkan region. Expect the unexpected. Live from minute to minute. Adjust to every kind of conceivable satiation. Make do with what you have, what you find along the way. Get help if you can, help yourself the best you can when you need it. While waiting for the ferry we had another quick drink at a restaurant next to the ‘terminal’. Another passenger, proud to practice his English had many questions and was in awe at our endeavors. Two Romanian men travelling on foot back to their country, after having found work for 2 weeks in Serbia told us of the hardship in surviving the ‘no work’ situation in Romania, This guy had a wife and 2 sons yet could not find any work at all in his homeland. His father or father-in-law, I cannot recall, was in the same situation. I could only listen; I could understand their plight yet could do nothing to help.
After getting off the ferry we rode through the small ferry town and took a look around. I felt like I would see and meet Huckleberry Fin around the corner. This was a small, sleepy town in nowhere land trying to hold on; the ferry serving as the only connection with life, arriving and departing twice a day. We left and were on our way, glad to have options available to us that others do not have.
The roads we took finally got us to the bigger town of Zrenjanin; an industrial town in the middle of the now totally flat landscape. The heat index was unchanged at 104 F or more. It was time to call it quits for the day. Naturally we have to find a hotel. I rode around town but saw nothing. One of my tricks in finding a hotel is to ask a taxi driver. Those guys know the towns well, know of good and bad hotels and can, if you do not understand their directions, drive you there. You just follow their cars and voila, you are at a hotel. You pay them for their service but at least you get a room without the frustrating effort of finding it yourself. This time, however, I asked a car parked nearby and not a taxi driver. The 2 guys were extremely courteous and nice and drove us to a hotel about 8 miles outside of town. No charge! It was their pleasure and our pleasure, too. Thank you!
The hotel was in the middle of wheat fields, near a major road but away from everything. Why they built a hotel here I do not know but does it matter? Does it matter that the large room we had, an apartment really, had a shower without curtains; that the water was yellow even though we ran it for 30 minutes? Our bikes were safe! We were safe and even had air conditioning. The place had a restaurant and we ate well. We slept well that night because it was quiet in the middle of the fields.
We survived another day and tomorrow we will leave for Hungary!

Kladovo, Serbia

When we left Macedonia our Croatian Harley friend told us to take a ride along the Danube on the border between Romania and Serbia. Here the River, over the last Millennium, carved a gap into the mountains and created, according to him, a wonderful and picturesque panorama. Kladovo serves as a gateway to this area and is used by many people as a stopover as well. Approaching town we saw the high rise hotel, Derdap, sticking out from the rest of the buildings.
Built on the banks of the River, the hotel is a multifunctional hotel that serves as a catch all for every kind of conceivable traveler and for groups as well. It is a hotel used for corporate meetings, for conventions, for functions such as weddings, etc. When we arrived, it was hosting the Serbian National Volleyball team plus another group I could not identify. We had people everywhere. Our bikes were parked in front of the building, away from foot traffic and we were told they would be safe there. Yet, while we had the bikes covered, they still seemed to be in the way. After some time, I saw cigarette ashes on the covers, some wet spots make clear that water was poured on them somehow; Carol’s bike was hit with a ball from the practicing Volleyball players who played in front of the main entrance and right next to the bikes. A pack of stray dogs used my front tire to mark their territory. It was a bit of mayhem. I felt we and our bikes were in the way. Not that things were intentionally done but we were out of our normal environment. I am not used to having a small band practice their Serbian music in front of the hotel. Some guys seemed intoxicated to me, dancing Serbian dances while holding a beer bottle in their hands. On the outside terrace young ‘business’ men neglected their dates or wives to close deals on their cell phone in loud, obnoxious voices. The young waiter, not just serving coffee or tea to the young women at the next table, but also getting a bit physical, touching and kissing and making out in general, to our amusement and certainly with the women’s consent.
Carol and I took a walk along the Danube River and watched, somewhat horrified, as young people swam in the River despite the obvious, non-sanitary condition of the water. The beaches were pebbled and yet people were lying on towels, sunbathing. A regular promenade had been built to make a section of the beach into a boardwalk. Not luxurious but not dilapidated yet, either.
The town of Kladovo itself had a small ‘Pedestrians Only’ area. Small shops had their doors wide open yet there was hardly a customer in sight. The sales personal sat outside, having a cigarette, drinking coffee, waiting for customers. I am not sure if the ambition of the townspeople was misadjusted or if the expected tourists did not show. The town was ready and I remembered a line from a movie; “If you build it they will come”. Well, here nobody came and the ones that did come did not come to visit the town. We ate dinner at the end of the row of open for business places without anyone else near us. We were the only people in this restaurant. The food was good and plentiful. It was a bit of a surreal experience. As darkness fell we moved into our room and worked on the blog, Carol called her mom, and we sorted our stuff in our luggage out and made ready for tomorrow’s early departure after breakfast. The Serbian Music in front of the hotel had stopped; the volley ball team no longer practiced their skills next to our bikes, the time was right to go to sleep. Unfortunately, the barking of a pack of wild dogs kept us awake most of the night.

Niš, Serbia

Plotting our route for the day is something we do the night before or early in the morning of the day of our departuresometimes with the help of the locals. We had accomplished our task of finding Zagoriče and mentally are now on the way back to Germany. We have plenty of time left but finding Zagoriče yesterday was an underlying current of our travels in Macedonia. We can now leave Macedonia with a feeling of accomplishment.
We picked a very local road to cross into Serbia. Finding the road was OK and we proceeded through small towns, past plowed fields, over wooden sections over a not so great road towards the border control. Getting out of Macedonia was easy enough. Even though the control at the border was as slow as molasses, we got out. A bit down the road we ran into the Serbian control and were turned back. Oh, our passports were OK, our bike papers were OK, all of our papers were OK but this border crossing did not have a booth that could sell us the needed Insurance for Serbia.
In Europe you need a ‘green’ card to show that you have Insurance when you cross the borders. Stefan Knopf did the paperwork for us and got us coverage for a lot of countries through the ADAC Insurance group. ADAC is a German Insurance group that underwrites Insurances for a lot of European countries; well, for almost all European Countries but not all. Some of the former Eastern Bloc countries are not included in the all encompassing coverage. We had to pay extra Insurance in Montenegro, Albania, Macedonia and now Serbia. I am not sure how the prices are calculated but I am sure it is a rip off as we paid anywhere from 10 Euros to 62 Euros per bike for the required insurance. So now we are stuck in nowhere land. We are out of Macedonia but not into Serbia. What to do? Our Passports are stamped rejected and we are sent back to Macedonia. The exit from Macedonia now became our entry again. When entering Macedonia the first time I fudged a little, I had 2 motorcycles written on one policy. Not exactly legal but it was good enough to get an entry into Macedonia and save some money. Nobody checked that closely the first time but now? Will they let me into Macedonia with the fudged policy? I noticed even the Macedonian side on this small outpost did not have an Insurance booth. All this legal mumbo-jumbo could be a disaster for us. So I played the clown on the way back from the rejected Serbian side and with a lot of talking, with asking for help instead of just being inactive and quiet and we entered Macedonia once more. Nobody noticed the not so valid Macedonian Policy; I just flashed it around without letting them read the details. I made a clown of myself, they all had a laugh and I rode away after my performance glad that I managed to get back into Macedonia.
The next border crossing was 90 minutes away but involved a ride all the way back the not so great road and a complicated search for the right road in the town of Kumanovo. We also ended up on the toll road. Well, all went well this time, we got out of Macedonia and into Serbia after paying the 62 Euros for each bike for insurance for a 2 week stay in Serbia. I am not sure how good the coverage is anyhow, how effective the Insurance would be in case it is needed. I just pay, like anybody else. I have no choice. Those are the expenses of the road.
Naturally we had to get our money exchanged again. Selling the Macedonia money, of course created a loss. Then buying Serbian money, the Dinar, created another loss. This exchange of currencies, the constant calculations of new values for anything is complicated. I like the Euro System. One currency for everything; no matter what country you are in. Like the US Dollar, no matter the State you are in, all States take the Dollar. With so many small countries, all having their own jurisdictions, all having their own sovereignty, all having their own currency, travelling becomes cumbersome and irksome.
So how far do we travel in Serbia before we stop for the day? The next big, meaningful city is Niš. We arrive in Niš in the late afternoon and I immediately see a sign for a hostel. Perfect! The road to Hostel Europa is under severe construction and we slide and slip on the gravel getting in but we make it to a nice place. The entire inside of the building is new; all the amenities are there including Wi-Fi. Yes, it is away from the town but that makes for quiet sleeping. The rooms are great, clean and large. The shower, after so many home made showers is a blessing. This is the latest in shower design. You can dial up a rain shower, let the music play while splashing yourself with water, have a blue light give you a great look, adjust the volume of the music built in, have 8 side jets hit you with water wherever you want to be hit and adjust the spray level and pressure points, too. If only we had hot water. It took me a while to figure out we had to put the hot water heater on to get hot water but after some time, all was well. The shower was great.
We took the local bus to town. The receptionist wrote down our stop in Cyrillic and with the help of the locals we made it to town and later back to the hostel without much difficulty. People are amazingly helpful if you ask for help.
Carol and I had an exploratory trip. We discovered an underground shopping street that went on forever. We traipsed from shop to shop only to get lost in this underground world. Coming back up to reality and some fresh air, we discovered ourselves in the middle of Niš and had to find our way back to a more recognizable spot. As luck would have it, we found the old part of town. An old castle, near the river gave us a respite and we joined the local tourists in taking a small toy train ride around the ancient complex. It was getting dark so now we experienced Niš at night. A rather modern town with some ancient roots, it was a good stop over for the day.
The bus took us back to our hostel and we slept well on our first night in Serbia.

Veles, Macedonia

We left Struga the next day for the town of Ohrid, a few miles to the West. I found the local road that winds itself along the water’s edge. The morning was crisp and lovely and just 30 minutes later we arrived in Ohrid, the most popular town on Lake Ohrid; the town with the history, castles, beaches and the target for us that day. We found downtown Ohrid without trouble but not the old city. I cannot say why but we just looked at each other, shook our heads and moved on. Maybe it was the challenge of finding Zagoriče that drove us, I cannot say. We left Ohrid to hunt for the small village of Zagoriče
I am very target oriented. Give me a cause and I will pursue it until it is done. We had located the village of Zagoriče on the map but getting to it was another matter. Carefully we plodded along, following signs in Cyrillic that lead us near. We missed it. In the town of Demir Hisar we had to ask and were guided by the gas station attendant back to a small exit off the main road and finally arrived at Zagoriče, the partial roots of Carol’s Children. It was an emotional experience for Carol and I am glad we did this trip to get to know, to see for ourselves, how a difficult life can dish out inequities. Zagoriče was indeed a few houses along a dirt track leading into the mountains. Not much had changed here for decades if not centuries. The faces of the people we met in town spoke of their life. If dental hygiene is an indication of civilization then the modern world has not arrived in Zagoriče. We are fairly sure Carol’s first mother-in-law was born here; Carol admired and loved this woman.
After some time trying unsuccessfully to solve the mystery of Carol’s former mother-in-law’s birthplace, we moved on. The road we were on now, moved deeper into the mountains. All the signs were old and in Cyrillic. We found our way, having had the previous experience with this signage. When the word spells mountains it evidently means twisty roads, hairpin curves and harsh drop offs. Being on non-touristy roads, being in a county that needs basic infrastructure, you can imagine how the roads were. Each corner could spell disaster. The detours we ran into did not help. One stretch had old cobble stones as pavement and I shuddered at riding this road for a long time but then it chanced into a fairly modern highway. Macedonia is in transition. There are things here that are very good, but other things are sill old and need a lot of work. Along the way I saw ecological disaster sections. Rivers were so full of trash that it left me shuddering. We proceeded carefully and while we encountered difficult sections we made it undamaged to Prilep only to find out that the next hotel would be in Veles, about 1 hour away. Ok, so it goes, planning and timing or flexibility is essential in countries without modern setups. Oh, there was a hotel in Prilep but it was an old time Russian hotel, 5 Star rating, for about 85 Euros per night; a bit out of our league even though the locals saw us as rich Americans or Canadians.
We rode the additional hour on a good road to Veles and a guy on a motorcycle, riding way too fast and showing off because we were there, guided us part way to the Motel Montenegro. This motel was built in anticipation of tourists but lacked some basics, like being able to close the bathroom door. The shower had no curtain so the water ran freely, flooding everywhere. The prices, since this was the only motel about, were too high but we had no choice. We paid left the next morning after a breakfast shared with an older Croatian Harley Motorcycle rider
who made his money in Germany. He now lives 6 months in Germany and 6 months in Croatia. This man, speaking the language of the old Yugoslavia, gave us some tips as what to see in Serbia, our next target.

Memories Old and New ( Carol Taub )

My journey to Macedonia began many years ago with stories of remote rural villages, hardship and Greek oppression, related to me by Dimana Vassos, the mother of my first husband and the grandmother of my children. She’d had a difficult life, married at the age of fourteen and bearing her first child at the age of fifteen. After the end of World War 1, with no work in the area, her husband and many other young men of the village left to try to find work in Canada. By this time Dimana had two sons and lived frugally on the little money she was sent from Canada and by taking in laundry. Since she was the only woman in the village who could read and write (taught by her mother as there were no schools), Dimana became the unofficial letter writer and reader for the women of the village whose husbands had travelled to Canada. The village was called Zagoriče (sounds like Zagorichee).
Eventually, Dimana was sent a ticket for her and the children to join her husband in Toronto. In order to obtain a passport, Dimana had to change her last name and that of her children from the Macedonian spelling of ‘Vasoff’ to the Greek ‘Vassos’ since her village had been given to Greece after WW1. At this time the people were forbidden to speak Macedonian and were required to speak Greek. But since transportation in the area was by mules and they only responded to Macedonian commands, the people said they were talking to their donkeys if caught.
Dimana arrived in Toronto and again survived by taking in laundry. Her husband paid infrequent visits but managed to father two more children before disappearing altogether. She eventually learned enough English to get a job in a garment factory where she was paid piecemeal for sewing sleeves on men’s coats. She was so quick that the other women were angry because she made them look incompetent; so to keep the peace, she held back on her finished work and handed it in when there were fewer work orders. She worked hard to put her youngest son, James Dimiter Vasoff (registered with the Macedonian spelling of his name) through High-school and help support him in University.
Dimana developed a strong network of friends in the Macedonian community in Toronto but abstained from the often heated discussions on the future of Macedonia – Socialism, Communism, Independence etc. She was an emotionally strong, independent woman; she was an intelligent, kind, caring, gentle soul. She died in 1975. I admired her tremendously.
So it became a bit of a quest – to try to find the village of Zagoriče where this amazing woman had her roots. We think we found it after leaving Struga and with some backtracking to locate the unmarked, narrow, one lane, paved, laneway leading into the village. There was a grassy playing field on which a horse was grazing at the entrance to the village. The buildings were mostly of clay brick construction, some of which were very old and in disrepair. Others were newer. The village was quite clean with no trash but obviously very poor. It was sad to me to know that Dimana’s village and the people in it still struggle to eke out an existence.
We met a family (mother, daughter,son – about 9 yrs.) in the village and at first they were reluctant to speak to us. The young boy spoke very limited English and I think we won him over when I gave him a Canadian Flag pin. We tried to explain that my husband’s family had come from this village but had limited success. It seems that even an older neighbor who joined the discussion had not heard of the Vasoffs. Were we in the right village? I don’t know for sure as there are similar sounding villages in nearby Bulgaria. We did have it confirmed that we were in Zagoriče when a man (the woman’s husband?) who understood minimal English arrived in a car.
This discussion took place at the side of the road beside what seemed to be a barnyard with chickens, a dog and cat. There was a barn but we did not know if it was used for animals. The area was quite muddy and the road beyond turned to rutted dirt so we made our goodbyes and carefully turned around to backtrack the way we’d entered the village.
It was with mixed feelings that I left this area. I admire Dimana even more than ever for carving out a life for herself in Canada after such a humble beginning. She restarted her life in a strange country, essentially by herself; she successfully raised four children putting the younger two through school and eventually she owned her own home. She was an amazing woman.
Thank you Hans, for the opportunity to tell this story and for assisting me in locating and identifying David and Brian’s roots.

Struga, Macedonia

The roads after the first 100 Km greatly improved in Albania. So much so that we made it to the capital, Tirane, in no time the next day. Tirane is large, busy and business-like. We first thought of spending some time in this town but then decided to just head for the border town of Pogradee on Lake Ohrit instead.
Now that we had entered the mountains and were riding east, Albania became more idyllic. I like the genuine towns, the old ways we saw on the side of the road. Men were cutting grass using a scythe, women helped stacking hay. The ancient implements used are handcrafted, wooden and work well even today. Grass was also being cut using motorized sickle movers of various models and with even greater variety of configurations. Fifty years ago, when I worked on a farm in the Black Forest in Germany, we used similar equipment. Am I getting old? The fields in Albania are well tended, however, and food grows in abundance.
Just after we passed the town of Perrenjas we ran into road construction. I asked the workers how long the construction site was and they told me about 30 Km or all the way to Pogradee, our target town. What to do? We would have loved to stay one more day in Albania, since a one night stay is nothing and no indication of a county. But given the conditions of the predicament we were in, riding on loose sand and gravel for 30 Km plus the threat of imminent rain, we decided to take the lesser evil and enter Macedonia at Radezha, especially since going back to Perrenjas was no option and we didn’t know if there was a hotel there.
There is no exchange booth to exchange the Albanian Leke to Macedonian Dinar at the border. The bike insurance needed to enter Macedonia costs 50 Euro per bike. Ouch! While the personal at the border tried to help, the language and the Cyrillic added to the difficulties in communication. I managed to get most of my Albanian money changed into Euros at a local store on the Macedonian side. Carol tried, too but did not like the way she was treated by the 4 – 5 young men in the store. She left the store without getting her money exchanged.
We were in Macedonia, the country - no, not the part of Greece or Bulgaria that was once called Macedonia. The conflicts with Greece about the name, about the territory and the language are ancient. No love is lost between the two countries. Macedonia is a very old land, the birth place of Alexander the Great. Naturally, Pella, the actual Birthplace of Alexander is in today’s Greece. But when Alexander was born, this was part of the Macedonian Empire and therefore he was Macedonian. Confusing? No matter, we are just riding and visiting, we do not have to solve any of the animosity between the two countries.
Not far from the border, the first larger town we come to, Struga, is our stop for the night. Positioned directly on Lake Ohrid it serves as tourist destination for many Balkan Nations. The lake is unique in the world and Wikipedia spells out:
Lake Ohrid (Macedonian: Охридско Езеро, Ohridsko Ezero; Albanian: Liqeni i Ohrit) straddles the mountainous border between the southwestern Republic of Macedonia and eastern Albania. It is one of Europe's deepest and oldest lakes, preserving a unique aquatic ecosystem with more than 200 endemic species that is of worldwide importance.[1] The importance of the lake was further emphasized when it was declared a World Heritage site by UNESCO in 1979. However, human activity on the lake shores and in its catchment area is resulting in the ecosystem coming under stress
Similar to Lake Baikal in Siberia, Lake Ohrid has a unique ecosystem. Although the beaches are fragile and endangered I wanted to see them and the uniqueness of it all. We later passed on the beaches when it turned cold and stormy. We walked around town, enjoyed the many shops in the pedestrian only zone, took a picture of the Poet Bridge, where once or twice a year international poets read their latest creations in their own language to onlookers along the river’s edge. We made the best of the town before the thunderstorm drove us for cover. Timing is everything and we enjoyed a wonderful, local meal while the rain drummed in buckets on the roof.
We were in Macedonia, a land locked country with a history so old, so long, so complicated it boggles my mind. We are in Macedonia, with a future that boggles the minds of many people. What will this country look like in years to come? The language is ancient, complicated. The writing is Cyrillic and again, complicated to the modern Western World. Most of the land is mountainous. Half the land is too rugged to farm. Split into Muslim and Christian faiths Macedonia struggles along. Yes, it has applied to join the EU. In better condition than Albania, it too, has Mercedes Benz cars in the streets. Again it is said that Russians buy the nicest, best parts of Macedonia for their vacation homes. Techno music sounds from coffee bars in bigger cities. Men wear horizontally stripped T-shirts and Gym trousers with a stripe running vertically along the outside of the pant legs. All men I saw smoked cigarettes. Many men had ultra short hair cuts. Women are made up, dressed well but in colors and styles quite different than my eyes are used to. All the signs I describe are signs of heavy Russian influence, if not of Russia itself. There is money in Macedonia but I would say it is Russian tourist money, not money from the GNP of Macedonia. I have seen no factories; I cannot say what Macedonia produces that is needed worldwide. While the past of Macedonia can be studied, the future cannot be predicted.
Carol will write the rest of the Macedonian story as it was a more personal journey for her.