Lowedown LV

The Wild East

"Yet again it seemed we were a magnet for the outcasts of society."


Saturday 16 July - 06.45 Manchester Airport

Standing in line for check in I didn’t think there would be many people heading for Skopje that day and just the name seemed to cause problems for the check-in staff. Most people were heading for Milan for a long weekend. We both got peeped at the buzzers. The first frisker pointed at my Hi-Tech boots and laughed openly at them. When he saw Mark’s his mate laughed and held them up for the first frisker to see “same shoes. Shoes R us”. At least we made someones job slightly less boring that morning.

Milan Pretty poor airport – seemed very battered. Mark produced some squashed marmite sandwiches. I hate marmite but managed to shove two down me.
A solitary middle aged man in a purple suit, flowery shirt and dark glasses shambled over to us. He looked like an ageing hippy with his bizarre taste in clothes and his open shirt diaplaying a huge medallian. He was English and was looking forward to a weekend in Budapest though he wasn’t sure why he was going. He had no other hand luggage apart from a large bottle of vodka in a plastic bag, which he took a swig from every so often. He eyes were wild and unfocused and I wondered what drugs he’d been taking. We kept trying to lose him, but he’d always find us and probably thought it we were playing hide and seek. He offered us some green sweets and we now seemed to be his new best mates. Yet again it seemed we were a magnet for the outcasts of society.

The plane to Skopje was the smallest I’ve ever seen – more like a bus. Skopje airport was more of a military base than a airport. A total of 15 helicopters and 1 civilian plane were parked. It did mean that baggage collection was done at record speed and before we new it we had our stamps and were standing outside. We were hoping that the guidebooks were wrong and that there would be buses into Skopje. But there wasn’t anything and none of the drivers would settle for anything less than 20Euros, a pure mafia cartel.
The drive into town seemed relatively sedate for eastern European standards – I assume that’s due to the Ruthless Macedonian Traffic Police.

Disaster struck when the city’s one and only hostel was full. Phonecalls were made to other locations and soon a young man in a battered Yugo car appeared and took us to a cheap nearby hotel. He was friendly, had been to Albania, and was impressed that I spoke Russian.
It was 7pm but still very hot. We spent a couple of hours strolling round the city. Skopje was creating a good impression, there were lots of outdoor cafes and bars, the city was in a beautiful setting surrounded by mountains and it was very compact and safe. The longer I spent there, the more it was starting to grow on me. Lonely Planet gives Skopje a pretty poor review which is very unfair in my opinion, especially since we’ve been to a fair number of places that LP have recommended which have ranged from indifferent to sh*te. Many of the streets still had their old names Lenin Road, Tito square, but McDonalds, Ernst and Young and PriceCooperwaterhouse were also firmly established. The first Skopsko beer went down very easily and it was a reasonable 70p a pint


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