Day 5: Treskavec Monastery/Prilep/Skopje - How many Macedonians can you fit in a Yugo?

The alarm on my watch went off at 6am and I fell out of the bed, got dressed and stumbled down the mountain. Unsurprisingly, the way down went much quicker than the way up and I was an hour early for meeting Ratko and his battered Ford. I walked back to the main road, which was about another 6km or so and met him at the highway. I managed to catch the 08:15 to Skopje, where I am now. I got a cab to the imaginatively named Hostel-Hostel. On the way, we stopped at a traffic light and, glancing to my right, I saw something that made my day. There was a red Yugo hatchback at the lights and there were nine, count 'em, 9 people in it. It was incredible. There were like two families and children and grandmothers. I counted twice. Nine people in a Yugo. Macedonia rules.

I've eaten, blogged myself up to date and now it's time for a shower, a call to my lady wife and a stroll about town.

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A fine young gentleman I met at the hostel, Gene, decided to come with me. He was the perfect guy to show me around town because he's been stuck in Skopje for the past three weeks waiting for his Bulgarian work visa to come through. We headed for the old town, where he showed me the sights. Since it was a national holiday, everything was shut and everyone in Macedonia was having a picnic, so we had the whole place to ourselves.

After strolling down the main promenade, we crossed the stone bridge that links the commercial centre of town with the historic centre. In true Balkan style, the stone bridge was called Stone Bridge, much like my hostel is called Hostel-Hostel. Gene explained to me that the historic centre was actually largely built by the Ottomans, although now it is known as the Albanian part of town. The Albanians, being Muslims by and large, have been constructing mosques at a very fast pace. The Macedonian government, in an effort to preserve their perceived Christian heritage, funded the construction of a massive cross that now sits on a hill overlooking the old town as a reminder to the area's Muslim minority that they still live in a Christian country no matter how many mosques they build. Togertherness is a beautiful thing.

After the walk, which included the park surrounding the castle with a great view of the main city of Skopje, Gene and I repaired to a fantastically tucked away little tea house on a small square and played backgammon until we were both cross-eyed. Due to my obsession with the game, I have re-christened it crackgammon. For the record, Gene whipped my ass, although I maintain that it was beginner's luck. Six cups of tea set us back a whopping 60 dinars, or 1 euro, and then we walked back to the hostel. Gene went off to meet a friend and I had a great kebab dinner. Here in Macedonia, kebab actually means a short grilled piece of minced lamb, not a massive pitta stuffed with garlic sauce eaten by troglodytes after getting pissed. I had five pieces of meat, a salad and some bread for 100 dinars, or 1.6 euros. Thieves.

I picked up a small bottle of the local rakija called Komovica for 90 dinars (1.5 euros) and sat on the porch of the hostel doing shots with a group of young Kosovars on their way to a "psychedelic forest trance party". Their preparation involved getting very high and drinking copious amounts of Gazoza, the Macedonian equivalent of Irn Bru. I played them some Secret Chiefs 3 in an attempt to add a dose of class to our soiree but the evening soon descended into pumping psy-trance and me playing crackgammon against old women on the internet. Then I went to bed.