Sarajevo and what was after
Year 2023
Sarajevo and what was after
Year 2023
This travelogue may be different than usual, for several reasons. He was almost without photos. My phone drowned on the way and I got another one at the end, but I did dig out some photos. I had no plan. Well, he had, but I changed it every day. I don’t remember exactly when it was, but it was now in the summer of 2023. I’m writing what I remember. There will be no daily kilometers, no gas prices, no information that is no longer valid at this moment, or irrelevant to everyone. Tour participants: 165 horses and one (add a pet).
But maybe it will be a guide for people like me, who can work remotely without restrictions.
Bratislava SK – Barcs HU
Around lunchtime on Saturday, I started to get nervous about what I was going to do. It was mowed, the weather was nice, I had already recovered from Friday’s evening reset, so I wanted to combine it with the bike. That was about all that was stable at that point. Finally, I closed all the windows at home, packed my laptop, cosmetics, clothes and that I was going to Sarajevo. I’ll take a week off and come back the next weekend. Half an hour after the decision, I was already sitting on the motorcycle with running engine under me. Nothing interesting happened on the way, I went through boring Hungary all the way to the south. Of course, something happened, but the expensive junk mail about this imperceptible event for me arrived at my house with a check before I did. In short, Rajka, Mošon, Szombathely, Balaton, Barcs. Only at the end I was somewhat surprised, because for some reason in the whole town, or whatever, it was not possible to sleep anywhere. First I found something like an American motel by the road, such a low building, something like a row house with rooms. And mosquitoes. The owners informed me that they wanted some 50 Euros without breakfast, so I thanked them and went elsewhere. There was a boarding house elsewhere, but it was completely closed. I guessed it was closed for a long time, but I tried the phone they had in front of the entrance. Apparently they are full. Well, I have no idea what. In the end, I accidentally turned somewhere, I met some Germans on Hondas right in front of the house, but I don’t know what they were. The same, older, hooded and slightly more ugly than their German women. The home team sang 35E, we clapped, there is a Lidl right behind the garden, I bought dinner because they don’t even have grills there. I ate rolls with classic lidl pâté, read a few Czech 12-degrees “magazines” in a tin cover, at least according to the cover, and went to sleep.
Barcs HU – Virovitica HR – Slavonski Brod HR – Sarajevo BIH
I ate the rest in the morning, I “read” all the “magazines” last night, and if anything, it is not advisable to load your head with such literature before driving. Crossing the border was not interesting at all. Fortunately, because the Hungarians know how to make it special with a few hours of studying the corn growing next to the road. More interesting was the road, on which I ended up a few times at its end and a little further. Once I managed to turn somewhere in a quarry or something. When I ran past the doorman, he only managed to run out when I was coming back. But his dog had a great appetite for my jeans, so I just nodded to him that I was sorry and zigzagging between stones the size of a child’s head, I went back to the asphalt. Of course, this was not the first exploration of the unknown. Because I don’t use visible navigation, I let my “Travel girlfriend” talk into my helmet. However, Mapy.cz sometimes makes a pretty good fool of themselves, so they make me fool too. I already wrote to them, counting exits from roundabouts is for them something like solving differential equations in elementary school. Simply put, they never succeed. Well, sometimes, by accident. So I didn’t even find the right border crossing to Bosnia, I also inadvertently found myself in Bosnia on the highway. On the first exit, I got down and it was pretty cool, because I saw a model cashing in the cashier for a euro and a half. But I was in a hurry. In Sarajevo, I stayed at the Saraj Hotel, just above the center.
This is quite a large and probably also was a nice hotel in the past and has its own large garage. In the evening, I went to the city, but the center is small. I walked along the river bank, saw how Gavrilo had a view of young Ferdi and his car when he shooted him, ate čevapi and went to sleep. To make a long story short, during the day I worked from hotels, in the evening I went for a walk, ate čevapi, or moved around. Because it did not end in Sarajevo as expected.
The center is nice, but really small. After a few days, I felt stings in my ass and must Sarajevo leave.
Sarajevo BIH – Mostar BIH
I have to say that in most hotels I didn’t have the slightest problem agreeing that I would prepare a room as late as possible and sit down somewhere in the public areas and do my homework there. In the evening after work, I started and sped off in the direction of Mostar. The road was nice. About halfway, I hung onto one motorcycle and a female biker on it. She handled it great. After a while she stopped, we chatted. She took off her helmet with a black braid and a woman with blonde hair appeared. Her name was Silvana, a member of some Croatian motorcycle club, the widow of a German, originally from Serbia. She has a house in Sarajevo, also in Croatia, she just went from Sarajevo to HR for MOT. I lost myself in it even when she was telling me. She had a lock with a chain “accidentally” dropped on her license plate, so I couldn’t read where she was from while driving. (This is not an INSTRUCTION for hiding license plates from radars. I REPEAT, this is not a guide for hiding license plates from radars, hehehe…) When we arrived in Mostar, we still sat down for refreshments in the heat and said our goodbyes. In Mostar, of course, I explored some strange streets until I found my accommodation right on the bridge, about 50 meters in front of it. No one was there, no one knew about me, I parked my motorcycle inside and waited. Then someone appeared, said he knew about me, gave me the keys and disappeared again.
Mostar BIH – Vracenovici MNE – Niksic MNE – Podgorica MNE
Move as always after end of working hours. There was a little more, so I added a little to it. After BIH it was relatively cool, the roads were mostly good, even if sometimes potholed, the views were nice. At Lake Bileca, I had čevapi for dinner without a magazine, because I wason the road. By chance, I would start more, or some hitchhiker in uniform would ask me what’s new and be a jerk. After the transition to MNE, the quality of the roads improved significantly, New asphalt, nice turns between rocks, highway speed. Suddenly, a gendarme jumps into my path from around a corner. Asedme for papers. I give. That I was going fast. I don’t believe. He shows me some megaphone with a box where it says 113. I don’t believe it at all, I certainly didn’t go that slowly. Of course, I claim that I am innocent and clean as russian vodka, and he says that he has me in the photo. He wants 80 euros. So we start bargaining. Shortened version with essentials:
Me: Mister, that’s a lot, I don’t have that much.
He: No problem, I’ll give you a check, you pay in Niksic at the post office. And you must be rich, when you havoe such motorcycle.
Me: You see, sir, a big engine, a lot of money for gas, a lot of money for tires… Sorry, sir, I’ll be good boy already!
He: Martin Martin, it’s already recorded on the card and sent do central database.
Me: You don’t have a signal here, it’s not sent.
He looks at the papers again, then sees the last name.
He: Martin, you ours?
Me: Yes. All of us Slavic brothers. (I do not specify the origin, rather)
Him: Where are you in such a hurry? On Žabjlak? Motorcyclist?
Me: To Podgorica. Work.
He: Do you have a job in Podgorica?
I (take a risk): Yes. I still have to find a hotel in the morning and I will work tomorrow morning.
He (gives me the papers): Well done Martin, but take it easy. Round Nikšič action!
Me: Thank you sir! (and one more good idea at the end) But you can’t have my photo.
He: How can I not?
Me: Well, if you have, then only from the front. And I don’t have a license plate there. What you have is not me! And I laugh.
He looks at me and laughs too. He probably knows why. But I take his advice and go more carefully, no need to tempt fate. Around Nikšič, I saw about 8 more speed checkers. I got to Podgorica just before daylight, found a hostel for 10E per night and went to the city. Podgorica is something like nothing. The square with the fountain, around a few streets, they also have a Hard Rock Café, but what they have the most are the babies. I have to say, probably the most beautiful I’ve ever seen on a pile. Married people, don’t even go there. The fact that one is more beautiful than the other, all naturally slim, no duck faces or plastic tits (I think), long black hair. But I was a foreigner, moreover alone, so I just observed it this way. I read two Montenegrin “magazines” in the square and returned to the hostel.
I don’t want to drag politics here, but I shared a room with a Russian in the hostel. He was waiting for an Albanian visa because he bought an apartment there and is moving there with his family. He refused a possible heroic death at the front, which cost him a significant restriction of movement, the possibility of buying and selling real estate and real estate, but somehow he got here and then his family will come to join him in his dream of comfortable Albania. Well, not that he had a bad time in Petersburg before, but he was happy that he would have some of his salary left over as an electromechanic in Albania. It was clear to him that Albania is not Piter, but it is said that he will be able to afford to send children to kindergarten there and it is calm there. In short, he explained his position in such a way that he can do this and that, that and that, all of them, because he thinks approximately the same about all of them. And above all, let them give him peace. Probably understandable.
Podgorica MNE – Andrijevica MNE
The next day, classics, work. Unfortunately, it got longer, which significantly complicated my next situation with the transfer. My plan was to get to Plav in the evening to enjoy Albania SH20 and then SH5, SH22 and SH23 over the weekend. But as I mentioned, I left much later than I wanted. I didn’t want to go on the highway, but the road next to it was endlessly slow, narrow and terribly crooked. Look on the map, west from A1. If I wasn’t in a hurry, it would be great, even though it was narrow and in some places I wanted an jointed motorcycle, like the public transport buses have, and I didn’t even switch off the unit anymore, but disengaged the clutch. It was already getting dark when I arrived in Mateševo at the turn to Andrijevica. However, I don’t know how long I looked at the dasboard and holded the fuel gauge with my eyes. At the intersection, I asked the locals who were repairing someone’s broken car about the pump, but they said there was nowhere. Only in Kolašin. For those who weren’t there. Mateševo is a village consisting of about five houses and nothing else. The nearest is Kolašin 10 km, in other directions even three times. You really don’t need to argue with locals, they know. So, instead of continuing the journey, I had to go to Kolašin to refuel and then return. But they were construction of the road, so the 20 km took me almost an hour. But I was an optimist. But I better had not to be. I entered those hills and it was becoming clear to me that I would not make it to Plav. It got dark and really cold. I felt like I was in a movie, but completely different from what I wanted to be. Forest, darkness, hollows, gravel in bends, wet road, occasional dark houses, but no so far omnipresent “zimmer frei”. And out of nowhere, a car at the intersection and the driver asks me for directions. Good luck it happened, otherwise I would have taken a bad turn. I don’t even know how far I’ve walked, when at the end of a settlement a guy jumps into my path in the dark, asking where I’m from.
Me: Slovakia. You?
He: Crna Gora (laughs). Don’t you want a room? Overnight stay.
Me: I want!
I immediately put the motorcycle in the yard so that he doesn’t think twice. He shows me the attic in the wooden house and asks 12 euros. We’ll agree on 10, because they’re my last ones done anyway. I drop things, the winter is like in a Russian movie, but he runs in a tank top and calls me downstairs. It has something like a bar under the attic. He immediately pulls out some Montenegrin “book” and pours it for us. I say to him: Good man, is this a gift or a business? He looks at me, he doesn’t understand. I don’t have any money anymore. He starts to laugh that there is no problem with the gift! So he gave me 2 more gifts, but I didn’t want to be rude because I really didn’t have anything to give him. He looks at me that I have a good shirt. I think it had a dragon and the year of my birth on it. I got it for my birthday from my friends. He asked me, if I could give it to him because he likes it and he was born only a year earlier. Why not, I took it off and gave it to him. Out of joy, he went to pour me another good night book. It was really cold in the room, but certainly less than outside. Montenegrin literature warmed me from the inside, it was possible.
Andrijevica MNE – Plav MNE – Shkoder AL – Fushe-ARREZ AL – Bajram-Curri AL – Kukes AL
I woke up in the morning, the terrace had a wonderful view and it was really worth it. Forests all around, a nice valley below me. Miraculously, I managed to get the motorcycle out of the wet grass and onto the road. Andrijevica was a few km away, but I just passed it and went to Plav. The road is great, empty, pleasant. I bought breakfast in Plav and ate on the lake. Apart from the forgotten Mercedes and the trash, it was pleasant and quiet there. I mean, he was also there with the Mercedes and the garbage, it just looked stupid.
The journey across the border was very interesting. Such a classic on the Montenegrin side, but the Albanian one was stylish. Uncle the customs officer, sitting in the house as if from old movies, calmly came out, took an important look at the motorcycle, took the documents and went inside. After waiting for 5 minutes I went to see him. Uncle was copying everything from the documents into such a big book by hand and at the pace of a sophomore in elementary school! But he finished writing, looked at his work with satisfaction, respectfully gave me the papers, and I set off on the expected SH20. However, my pace was not the same as the photos from the Internet promised me at the beginning. Nowhere is it mentioned that the asphalt is a little bit bad on the first two km. And I also made a stupid detour, but only a little bit. Then it was the SH20 from the photos! Really great! Up in those serpentines, I took a picture of it from the viewing area. As well as a bunch of stuff before. I had no idea what was coming.
I passed through Shkoder a few months before, so I didn’t linger, in the end there’s no point. I turned onto SH5, after a few km I was completely alone on it. Sailing on Lake Koman is without a doubt more beautiful, the problem is the 30 km to Koman. I think it lasted over an hour on my previous Intruder. I didn’t want to risk it on Rocket, moreover alone. By some oversight, I did not turn onto SH22, but went a little further along SH5. As I knew SH22 from the past, I wanted to go through it one more time and then go to Kukes on SH23. I look around, suddenly it got dark and it wasn’t Montenegrin literature. I get off the bike and look at my phone to see where I am. After that it was like from a fairy tale. One drop, two drops, waterfall. I didn’t even have time to put my phone in my pocket and put on waterproofs. I took them anyway, but it was basically useless. And in that downpour, I turned around and followed the planned path. But the downpour was so strong that I decided to sleep in the first hotel on the road. Even if I had to wait, because I didn’t have Albanian cash. Right in front of the roadside hotel, it cleared up just as quickly. I parked anyway, changed my clothes, poured water out of my shoes and dried things. The water was visibly evaporating from them when I put them in the sun. I met two Germans there, they also went to Kukes, but in the opposite direction. We also agreed to spend the night in the same hotel, but it didn’t work out. When they were at least not cold, I got dressed and continued as planned. I withdrew some cash in Bajram just to be safe. SH23 is nice, but not as nice as SH22. Anyway, it was completely empty and the only thing holding me back was the uncertainty of what would happen on the road after the downpour. Because there was a lot of mud, gravel and quite large stones on SH22. Sometimes like a human head. Before Kukes, I found a turtle on the road. I don’t know if someone threw her out of the car because her armor was broken on top. But she lived. At least I carried her to the side of the road in a green area. I hope she got out of it somehow. I did not stay with the Germans in Kukes because the hotel was full. Others too. I was already falling into despair when I found one, a night for 40 euros. I must say that it looked really good from the inside. Except for a certain misunderstanding in the services provided. I had dinner there first. Some Albanian home classic, an alternative to a fried cheese, schnitzel or tenderloin. The picture looked promising, the reality was more than difficult. I was expecting some mutton. I got it too, but by all accounts it was an ankle or a hoof. In short, a piece of bone with tendons. The waitress was really wondering why I didn’t eat it. As if it were possible. But I took a really long hot shower in my room and dried all the things.
Kukes AL – Peshkopi AL – Bilate e Eperme AL – Debar MK – Ohrid MK
I also had an interesting breakfast. Fried egg, tea. But I wanted green and not fruity. To be sure, he didn’t bring me any. When I complained about it, he brought me a green one, but he wanted money for it. Because they serves fruit tea for breakfast and I didn’t want that and I already had breakfast, so from his point of view it is a drink beyond breakfast. I laughed at him, drank the water from the tap and went away. I had certain concerns about the road, because according to the photos, it did not look convincing in places. Another complication was that the bottom half of my phone stopped responding. It was almost impossible to set up the navigation, I preferred not to deal with the music. In the end, the journey was so passable. Worse in some places, but not so that it could not be crossed even on a road motorcycle. Quite good in places. I had fun at the Shell pump, which was a dilapidated unimo cell on the edge of the village near some cooperative, and there was a seashell and an inscription as if someone from a special art school had painted it. I successfully reached the border with an almost empty tank. I passed Albania just fine.
A previously unknown problem arose in Macedonia. Green card. I laugh and tell the customs officer that it is no longer green. He takes the paper, returns it to me that it is neither green nor valid. How is it not? After all, it still pays for me for 2 weeks, my policy expires later. No, it doesn’t apply. He hasn’t paid for almost a year, he’s right. It was a lenten temporary sign-in paper. I’m looking like a pissed off mouse. No one checked it for a year and now, just before the expiration date, at the end of Europe in the no-man’s land between Albania and Macedonia. That he won’t let me into Macedonia without a green card. What should I do? Sunday lunch time, alone in this shit of nowhere. He is adamant that I have to go back to Albania, recover her and I can go back. So I turn around, go back across the Albanian line to the nearest business, to think and try to solve something. It was a hotel restaurant, they had wifi, I managed a miracle. I was already thinking about how much the call from Albania will cost me, especially the two minutes of chatter, what I have to press, that they are recording me and even that there is no one on the phone and that they might send me a card by post. But as I say, a miracle. The green card can be downloaded directly from the website. Just enter the license plate number. I feel relieved. I’m entering. And nothing. They do not know such a brand. I will be quite scared, because I also paid them the emergency insurance. But I’m as smart as Tintin, I’ll remember that I did the insurance before signing up and luckily they also take the VIN. If it doesn’t work, I’m determined to use Photoshop, I just don’t have it or any materials. Then just the way back. It took a while, so I took out my green card and within half an hour I’m crossing the Albanian border for the third time. Still no problems. I will come solemnly to the Macedonians, uncle remembers me. That if I have a card. I have! I take out my laptop and go to show it to him. And he said why in the laptop, if I don’t have it on the phone! If they weren’t outnumbered, I don’t know. But they were. I count to a million and tell him: This is how you read better! We made it, I’m going to Macedonia. But he still tells me to print it out as soon as possible so that I don’t have problems elsewhere. Sure, I understand him again. I fill up in Debar, gasoline is very cheap by our standards. When I leave, I see that 100 octane is only about 2 cents more expensive than 95. After a great road, I’m driving to Ohrid. Somewhere halfway by the dam, I stop by the bikers, they are Greeks. We exchange a few words, then the uncle shouts something at us from the floor of the building on the other side of the road. He probably sees where we are from, he calls me upstairs. I go, he starts offering me honey and some other goods, but I don’t have the money for them. That he is a dam guard and makes a little extra money like this. And that we Slovaks are brothers, but down there the Greeks are enemies and he doesn’t like them. Well, when you don’t have problems, you need to makes some up. In Ohrid, I got to the very center of the lake. I looked around, someone offered me accommodation nearby, but without parking, so nothing. I found on the way out of the city that it also has a wellness center. I finally found it, it looked like a former brothel. And without wellness. Never mind, I stayed there and went back to the lake. I walked there, had dinner with čevapi, read two Macedonian draft magazines, met a couple of Slovaks in a caravan. I wanted to buy a new phone but I couldn’t.
Ohrid MK – Bitola MK – Prilep MK – Makedonski Brod MK – Skopje MK
Classic departure after working hours, the traffic was heavy at the beginning, but it gradually thinned out and it was possible to go quite briskly. Only the roads were already worse in places. After the experience of the previous days, I preferred to refuel the fuel tanks on the Rocket earlier. A great route was from Makedonski Brod around Lake Kozjak. I caught some signs along the way, but I couldn’t decipher them at that speed. For others, guess. When I went past the lake into the mountains, there was a ramp just before Skopje. Down. Behind her is a booth and four guys. A guy, a German, was already waiting at the ramp. He had been on a motorcycle in Armenia and was going back, but he was not in such a hurry. I’m going to see the guys, what about the ramp. They explain that it’s the signs. There is a narrow road through the ridge and therefore it is opened and closed for one direction only. And for quite a while. I’m trying to convince them that we can fit on the motorcycle, let them let us go. They are adamant, but that they will let go in 15 minutes. Exactly. They probably knew it there. The road itself was a bend, often with gravel, bushes or rocks on each side, and it was about as wide as a bicycle without side mirrors. After crossing the ridge, it joined a wide road below, so I again put the cruising speed on. I’m walking, I suddenly see the policemen opposite. That’s fine, I don’t have a brand on the front. Out of habit I look in the mirror and they are spinning! What now? Nothing, I’ll add and then slow down. But they must have gone to čevapi, because they didn’t hang up on me. In Skopje, I came straight to the square, sat in the grill, ate and looked around. I have found hotel for 10 euros per night, including parking. A short distance from the center. I’m booking, I’m going. In the end, the piece was about a kilometer and a half, the hotel was not a hotel but to be in an apartment building, the parking lot was blocked by a chain behind the house. But ok, I have my own room, shared bathroom. Except that before that the neighbors had to find the owner. That he wrote to me by e-mail. Big king, and where should I have read it? Otherwise, he is cool, willing. That he can see the motorbike straight from his apartment and room should be quiet. There is a phone shop and service station nearby. I have heard personally that there are two guys from Slovakia in the next room. I pack up and go to town. The center of Skopje is really nice and worth going there. But I’m tired, today was a chase, I’m going back. The next day I go to deal with the phone. They even have one like I had, so it fits in my case and still fits in my jacket pocket because it’s not the portable TV yet. I’m buying, supposedly with a warranty. I laugh that if the warranty on a used phone (but looks like new). I will pour the data from the backup into it, charge it. Of course, it’s a working day, so I work and go to the city again in the evening. They have a statue of Alexander the Great on a horse in the square. I also go to the other side to the Old Bazaar, on the embankment they have a large statue of Cyril and Methodius and a little further Philip II. After returning, I find that the warranty on the phone is useful. It cannot be fully charged and in a few hours it will run out. I’m going there again in the morning, what about it. The lady behind the counter, really nice, tells me that she will either give me my money back, or I will buy another one, or they will replace my battery. I’m taking a battery change. In the evening I go to get my phone, everything is 100% equipped. I’m still asking the baby if she’s coming with me to the city. She looks at me so sad and strangely happy, she shows her hand that she is married. Well, someone is in luck. I walk around town, have dinner, of course cevapi, ice cream, I don’t even know what day it is.
Skopje MK – Novi Sad SRB
Skopje is a pleasant city, the housing was also good, but the weekend has come and it’s time to turn it around. I get on the motorcycle and go north on the highway. Nothing but a transfer. And a bit of fun on the border line, when the Serbian customs officer calls his friends and they watch the motorbike. I fill up the tank in front of Nový Sad, I pay some to Serbian supermodel there. In Novi Sad, I basically live in the center, a hostel with a yard, I park my motorbike under my nose and out of prying eyes. There is also an entrance for theater employees in the yard. I’m going to eat, čevapi, šopska salata, two Serbian draft magazines. There is a group in the grill, a guy from the region is sitting, apparently he has already read all today’s magazines and maybe even a book about it. He has a tattered T-shirt with the inscription “I am Miloš’s dad!”. I leave, I congratulate him, he is happy. There is a music festival going on somewhere nearby, there are a lot of young people here. Oh, another important observation. Babies in Novi Sad don’t wear bras!
Novi Sad SRB – Subotica SRB – Gyor HU – Medveďov SK – Bratislava SK
Nothing but a long distance fast move.
Knowledge at the end
Even within Europe, it is possible to function as a so-called digital nomad. Of course, it is individual who has what work mode and how independently they can function. Internet connection at hotels was without problems. Of course, everyone must know whether they can use such connections, but they can also be secured, or use their own data.
Of course, weekends are good for longer transfers, but after the working hours you can still do 150-200 km comfortably. Alternatively, move during the day and complete things upon arrival. I had no problem when I explained to the hosts that I needed to check out late and then do it from somewhere. They always came out to meet me, mainly it was enough to free the bed. This way you can also see a nice part of the world and experience the local atmosphere in the evenings without stress. Basically, it’s like working from home, only that home is different every moment. So bikers, programmers and others who can, go for it!