June 14, 2015
Once Seen: Pristina to Near Kosovo/Montenegro Border.
Pristina the capital of Kosovo, until recently a region of Serbia is one of those places that make you wonder was it worth coming to see. A place to come to out of curiosity then leave, happy that you're going somewhere else. The only thing I can say is how strikingly different it is here relative to Serbia. An example is shopping. All the brands, things that I use a lot such as, yogurt and orange-juice are different here. They even have different beers. I find it strange, like everything to do with the former mother country is erased. Even ask for a turkish coffee and they'll answers abruptly that they don't do turkish coffee.
Serbia doesn't recognise Kosovo and back in Belgrade, a few Serbians I spoke with said they darn go there, saying they wouldn't feel safe. And many say it is unadvisable to openly display Serbian banknotes in Kosovo, which brings me to my predicament, having entered Kosovo with forty euros worth of Serbian Dinars.
I asked at three banks is it possible to exchange Dinars and get blunt "No!" answers from the bank clerks at each. The young man at the third bank I visited however was a little more helpful. He gave me directions to a PTK building, the Kosovo Post Office and said something about a stall selling mobile phones where I could change Dinars.
When I get there I walk pass the stall and walk round the high-rise with the large letters PTK on the roof. Then walking back pass the same stall, a man standing beside the stallholder catches my eye with a wad of banknotes in hand and indicating change. I ask and he says yes. His accomplice the stallholder checks the Dinar to euro rate (Kosovo uses the euro) on his phone and holds it up for me to see. A hundred and forty to one, which means my four-thousand, eight-hundred and fifty Dinars will convert into thirty-five euros. Five euros less than I expected, but I suppose that's commission and at least I'm rid of a load of banknotes I cannot use unless I return to Serbia.
So the city is bland, but primarily on a bike-tour, I'm only looking for a service centre and Pristina has everything I need for a few days journaling and on Saturday afternoon I plan my getaway. I use David Crowes' journal again as he mentioned being told, the border crossing west of the town of Pec (80km west of Pristina) isn't a proper border crossing; instead, he crosses into Montenegro on the road northwest from town: the road to Rozaje.
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I'm up at quarter past seven and breakfast on a big bowl of mainly sliced fruit with yogurt to make the plain muesli mixed in more palatable. Then once I've packed the panniers and hung them on the bike ready for the road, I order a coffee from the hostel receptionist guy who has just turned up for work. He make's the coffee and when I go to pay, says it's okay, it's on the house.
It is not the best hostel. I'd give it eight and a half out of ten. The only thing which lets it down is the kitchen or lack of, having only a plug in hob to cook on and not much kitchenware.
I set off shortly after nine, turning right onto Bill Klinton Boulevard which eventually becomes route 9, Tirana, Pec. The road a good smooth dual-carriageway with ample shoulder. The city sprawling out either side of the road across mountain plain for a fair bit with many newly built hotels, out-of-town shopping-centres and other developments. It seems European Union money has done it's bit to build a modern functioning country, which is good to see.
My cycle-computer is still playing up; not registering nothing when I started off, then latterly starting to work as normal again; which means, I can't say how far I've come, but after steadily climbing through a low range of hills, having left the last of the city behind, the road splits and there is a motorway no-cycling sign for the left split straight on for Tirana. The right split for Pec goes off on the right, down a slip-road to become single-carriageway and here begins road-works, which David Crowes mentioned, though neither elaborated on nature nor length. But as it is Sunday no work is ongoing. The road is a narrow band of rough old asphalt with irregular broken edges across a wider consolidated hard-core. In places they're resurfacing, where the traffic is diverted off along a temporary hard-packed road alongside. The road-works last for three or four kilometres until the road becomes a more normal single-lane each way road.
The road on however has had the cutting machine over it, that scores the road surface in preparation for resurfacing, leaving grooves parallel to the direction of travel, making it a pain to keep the bicycle in a straight line close to the edge of the road; it being necessary to keep well in to the side out of the way of cars that don't slow, nor give much space for error on passing. But do blare the horn startling me, just when they come up behind in an out of the way or you'll get run over kind of manner.
Around one o'clock I come to a big supermarket, open on Sunday. I don't need any food, but it is good to buy cold drinks as it is thirty-five degrees and very humid. I drink a cold beer in the shade sat by the bike against the glass at the front. And a few kilometres further, I come to a grove of trees, a burial place as there are gravestones inside, with short grass where I sit in the shade and lunch.
During my stop the sky has turned murky and riding on with the mountains of Montenegro rearing up ahead, dark rain clouds are descending. Also the cycle-computer has stopped working again. I think it may be the battery in the radio pick-up zip-tied to the fork. So there's something I've to get when I get somewhere. For the time it'll be guest-work and using the Google map to sum-up daily distances.
The cloud has cooled the day down and there's a few spots of rain so I stop to don the raincoat by a maize harvesting machine on the roadside. If it come on heavy I would duck underneath the machine. But it doesn't. It fizzles out and remains dull and foreboding for a real downpour.
I'm just on the way into Pec and as I ride on see the sign for Rozaje (Mne) point the turnoff right. I turn right and follow the road through roundabouts and take the turns signposted Rozaje. Then leaving town and starting to climb, the shower holds out no longer, coming down in big droplets in a great crescendo. Warm rain as the sun has come out and is shinning through as a stream flows downhill toward me cycling up. I pass groups of people who've sheltered under trees. But after what seems no more than ten minutes the rain stops and the sun soon dries out the road ahead as I start to wind up a serious of switch-backs. The gradient remains a steady six or seven per cent all the way.
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I was for riding out the day finishing at nightfall, having crossed the border, but around five as the road continues winding up, I see lots of level places to the side suitable for a tent. Then come to a track in through trees on the up slope side of the road, where once in from the road it widens to a short grass lea-side with a level spot big enough for my tent.
Today's ride: 115 km (71 miles)
Total: 5,295 km (3,288 miles)
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