Last trip with Baba

A 20,000 km bicycle tour returning my fathers ashes to China

Trapped in Kosovo!!

Posted on May 4, 2014 by bodhitree

The ferry to Fierza was just big enough to fit Gaby and a few goats

Koman lake ferry, through the fjords of Albania

I have crossed illegally into Kosovo. My planned route of pedaling into Kosovo through the Alps failed when Albanian border officials denied me access, saying that the border was only for locals. After pedaling over 100 miles through some of the roughest and steepest roads since Alaska I was not about to let two border guards stop me from completing my route. Turning around I pedaled towards a large minaret visible from the mountaintop border and arrived at the small village of Novoseje, (pop. 5,000). I rode into the center (the mosque) and was quickly surrounded by many of the Albanian villagers. I tiptoed around cow, lamb and goat dung and entered the local café. A few minutes later after speaking phrases from the following; Spanish, Croatian, Albanian and Arabic, I found two guides who would show me a local shepherd trail into Kosovo.

The back roads into Kosovo a ridiculous amount of climbing!

My Albanian Guides, just before crossing the barb wire fence into Kosovo

The trail was steep, muddy and half flooded. It had been raining for several days and many parts of the trail were now underwater. Riding was impossible, and I pushed Gaby through ankle deep mud and hiked in a downpour through a small village and several cemeteries. I am freezing, and for once glad at the warmth provided by pushing Gaby up hill. My guides converse with a few shepherds along the way and we reach a barb-wire fence. “This Albania, that Kosovo” one guide shouts between puffs of a cigarette. “We help you, then we go”, “Us no Kosovo, you OK”. I toss over my gear, and with help climb the fence. Gaby, naked and free of all gear is then passed over the top. “Fat I Mire” (Good luck) I said good bye and was now on my own, in the middle of the Alps somewhere in Kosovo.

The trail into Kosovo was more like backpacking than cycle touring

From where I was standing I could see a trail about 50 meters away. Earlier on in the café I remember being told that “after crossing the fence follow the trail to the village of Krusevo”. The rain had turned into a light snow, and it was beginning to get dark. I followed along hoping to see a sign of life but after 30 minutes cold and wet I found a flat spot and set up for the night. Not long after climbing into the tent I heard the Adhan, the Muslim call to prayer, echo through out the mountains. I was now in Kosovo.

Krusevo village Kosovo

I am currently at an altitude of over 5,000 feet and the weather is constantly shifting between snow and rain. Today I had the intention of crossing the bordering into Northern Macedonia but had to turn back due to a snow storm, lack of strength and food. I have no Euros!! The Albania Lek is now worthless and none of the villages have ATM machines or will exchange dollars for Euros. I walked around for a few hours today trying to exchange money, no luck but many locals bought me tea and food! My best bet now is to pedal into Macedonia, word has it though that the border, like before is for locals only. I am not trying another illegal crossing in these snowy conditions, especially since political relations between Macedonia and Kosovo are hot, several Macedonians were recently arrested illegally crossing the southern border.

Earlier this week

The ferry from Koman to Fierza was a real culture shock. I had heard that the 3 hour boat trip was popular among tourists but when I pedaled to the ferry terminal I was the only westerner around. I was expecting a large boat with a café and space for people to park their cars, you know classic spoiled westerner stuff, but it was nothing of the sort. The boat was a medium sized, Louisiana swamp vessel, with a trash trap used to protect passengers from the rain. Other than a handful of locals the cargo consisted of goats, vegetable buds (onions, and other root vegetables) and lots of groceries. I learned this a little later, but most of the passengers live in the remote mountains between Koman and Fierza, and Koman is where they stocked up on supplies. I tied Gaby to the helm and the boat sped off into the Albanian Fjords. Not wanting to share my seat with nibbling feisty goats, I sat at the front of the boat, and watched as we passed boat after boat filled with goats and sheep, entering deep into the mountains.

One armed captain guided the boat through all stops

One armed captain guided the boat and never spoke

The water reflected the jagged mountains, and trees seemed to grow even on the rocky cliffs . The landscaped seemed almost uninhabitable, no roads, power and little dirt for farming, but on the 3 hour journey we passed several rock houses perched on the top of steep mountains. Sometimes the mountain people would call out to the boat and the captain would stomp his foot. The boat would dock and we would watch as they future passengers would climb down steep rocky trails to the river. Waterfalls seemed to be around every corner and the current along with the motor slowly carried us to the village of Fierza.

A random stop apparently the man on the shore lives up in the mountains somewhere

In Fierza I learned that “Shite” means for sale, and “buke” is bread, in almost every village you can find a sign that says “Shite Buke”. From Fierza I pedaled north through the Alps meandering my way to the city of Kukes. The Alps here are a bit lower than those in Theti and the landscape is rich with farmers, sheep, cows and goats. One morning I decided to wash in a small pond near my camping site, the water was a bit cold but it had been several days since my last bath. I was about knee deep when I noticed these “cute” worm like creatures swimming up to me, “Hmm your cute what type of creature are you”….”Oh god, fuck, its a leach”!! One of the leaches grabbed onto my leg and I ran out of the water, luckily it hadn’t gotten too good of a hold and I was able to pull it off with my hands. Later I put a stick in the water and made a few splashes soon afterwards a few leaches came to the shore and even crawled onto the sandy banks!

Camping near the leach infested pond

Here’s a cute leach waiting for you to put your hand in the water

In Kukes I met some Albania godfathers (Think Goodfellas in Albania). I ordered what ever I wanted and they told me that it was all on the house. I drank close to a gallon of beer then smoked a hash joint that was pretty much consisted of a finger rolled in cigarette paper!. The Albanian custom is to “cheers” (Zoo Mir) every time you take a drink, this pretty much insures that everyone drinks at the same speed, and that everyone gets wasted. Afterwards my new friends invited me to their village where they wanted to butcher a sheep in my honor. Before leaving we went to the local internet café where I helped one of my friends talk dirt to his half Greek half Russian mistress in English on facebook. After about 20 minutes of facebook laughter I passed out and awoke in a hotel in the city.

Albanian Godfathers,
these guys out partied me

Hoping the boarder cross to Macedonia is a success, if not will have to pedal north back to Albania! I will touch base again soon!

Albanian Alps part 2

Posted on April 29, 2014 by bodhitree

Indiana Jones bridge crossing, miles from civilization

Having no idea what to expect on the journey to the village of Thethi. I stuffed my panniers full of bread, vegetables, sheep cheese and chocolate filled croissants (A local favorite), then went to the local konoba where I filled my belly with two orders of lamb fat cooked rice and an order of bean pasta. Completely stocked on carbohydrates I stopped in to the local pharmacy and without any means of communication I attempted to draw the chemical structure of vitamin C (l-Ascorbic acid), the structure has always been engrained in my mind as it was a challenge problem on one of my advance chemistry NMR exams, and the pharmacist did not seem to speak or understand any English. Minus a few -OH groups and a double bond the pharmacist quickly looked up the structure in her book and said “oh Vitamin C” Two minutes later I had over 100 pills of instant immune system booster, and was ready to hit the road.

Remind me to thank Rebecca Braslau for the ridiculous NMR problems on exams

Just before leaving I asked a few locals about the road conditions to Thethi, I got a few laughs and headshakes; some would raise their hands over their heads and shout “Boar” (snow) “No way”!! I have built quite a tolerance to people telling me that what I want to do can’t be done and as always I smile and whisper to myself “We will see..”. It is all up from here, leaving the banks of Shkoder lake, the road slowly climbed through humid green luscious valleys. It started to rain, but being so excited I neglected to take any precaution and continued to climb passing small villages and often being overtaken by the ever present Mercedes Benz off road van.

Small roadside villages en-route to Thethi

Friends along the long lonesome road

The vans were full of local women carrying supplies back to their villages, 50lb bags of flour, tools, electrical wire, blankets and clothes so much stuff that many vans had supplies strapped to the roof, and they would teeter as they bobbled side to side on the pot holed filled muddy roads. Most of the Albanians who live in this area survive on a 4 month tourist season income coupled with food from their flocks of sheep, pigs and chickens. To my knowledge every household has at least a dozen sheep (used for meat, cheese and warm skin), a few pigs (for butter and meat) and a dozen chickens (mostly for eggs). I stopped for food in a small village called “Boga”, and was shocked to be served fried bacon fat, fresh bread, homemade marmalade, sheep cheese and a hardboiled egg. There wasn’t one item of food on the table that wasn’t homemade or from the land. It began to hail, and even though there were plenty of guesthouses where I could find a warm dry bed I declined still having the urge to continue my adventures into the mountains. Not the greatest idea, the village of “Boga” was the last sign of civilization for the next 35 km.

Climbing steep mountains outside of Boga

The muddy, pot holed asphalt turned into a rocky hell, where I constantly would slip out and bang my crotch on my saddle. Fuck!! This was like riding an angry horse in a stampede or rodeo! If I stood up to pedal my back tire would slide out, if I sat on the saddle while pedaling the front end would bounce sometimes pushing me off the road or into large stones. This was the ultimate work out, forget the popular Los Angeles “Insanity” regime, my core, arms and legs burned climbing into the snow-covered mountains. Hail turned to snow, temperatures dropped and soon I realized that the farther I pedaled the colder and more snow I would have to camp in. I was also still pedaling in my shorts and sandals, and me teeth were beginning to chatter. “Shit”!! Finding a place to camp proved more difficult than expected, all the flat open ground was covered in close to a meter of snow. Finally at a hairpin in the road I found a small section of open ground, pitched the tent and jumped in. Stripping down, I got into my sleeping bag naked and opened my Tolstoy novel Anna Karenina. Dreaming of a Russian ballroom dance party I feel into a deep sleep.

Morning view from my muddy mountain camp spot

Does the climbing ever end?

Mom, Dad, John (my old ‘cello teacher)? I dreamed I was playing the Haydn cello concerto in D major at a master class in Idyllwild, I was totally rocking the thumb position and both mom and dad were proud…then I woke up. I peaked out of the tent and there was a patch of blue sky, and sun was now falling into the entrance of my tent. “Ahhhh how I miss the sun of the middle east”. I feel like I have not experienced a real sun since my departure. I turned my back to the warm rays and tried to remember more of my dream. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a vehicle coming up the mountain, a moment later a blinging Benz van packed with villagers pass my tent on route to Thethi. Tea time!! “Sub Chai” as they say in Arabic. Before sleeping I placed both my cooking pans under my tent fly to collect rain water, now they were full and it was time to return to the middle east with some Bedouin tea. While in Jordan I purchased close to a kg (2.2 lbs) of local tea, it is a bit absurd but I still carry this around and the sight of the Arabic handwriting on the outside of the bag always makes me smile. Good Bedouin tea, begins with combining all three ingredients; leaves, sugar, and water, then bringing them all to a boil. Without the sugar the tea would taste extremely strong but boiled together with Albania mountain sage (found all over the alps), I sipped and breathed in the cold morning air.

Cycling down to a warmer eco system

Up, up and up. Every blind turn in the road reveled an endless amount of climbing to escape the valley I had pedaled from Koplik. Finally I felt the summit winds and saw the cursory Christian cross, and knew that my hours of climbing had come to an end. From the top I had a view of Shkoder lake and for the first time could see the village of Thethi. Starting from the crest the road began to slowly descend. A rough, steep muddy road with little to nothing of a safety barrier, there was little room to make any mistakes, and my hands didn’t leave the brakehoods. From the cold snowy summit, the road traveled down to a warm green valley interrupted by water falls. It took me close to an hour to descend and before entering the village the road ended into a fast-moving river. “Hmm, all the locals warned me about cold fronts and endless amounts of snow but no one mentioned anything about having to cross a river”!! I looked around and found a foot bridge made by two metal pipes leaning on a large rock, but both options across the river seemed dangerous so I wanted for a Benz van to come to my rescue.

Waiting for a little help from my Albanian friends

Only way across

After close to an hour of waiting I decided to try my luck at crossing the footbridge. The metal pipes were slick from the rain and did not provide much traction. I literally had to lift Gaby to keep her from slipping into the river. The bridge ended at a large rock, so I had to balance the bike, remove all the bags and then carry them over. The situation could have turned out much worse, all in all no major problems just a few close calls on the slippery pipe. Upon entering the village of Thethi, I hummed the tune of the Black Sabbath song Sleeping Village. “Red sun rising in the sky Sleeping village, cockerels cry Soft breeze blowing in the trees Peace of mind, feel at ease”

My motherly host in Thethi

Downtown Thethi

Thethi seemed asleep, there were no children running about, or people walking on the narrow dirt streets, only the sounds of cow bells echoing in the small valley. Debating my next move, a kid of about ten years old came up to me and asked me if I had a lighter that I could give him. He told me that if I was hungry I could go eat and stay at his house. I followed him down the road and met his parents who run a small guest house. After a big meal of beans, bread, cheese and sauerkraut I took a room facing a green meadow and listened to the rain in a warm dry bed.

Albanian mountain breakfast; home baked bread, sheep cheese, marmalade, deep fried eggs and mountain tea

The next day the rain continued to fall but I explored the small village; walking to the waterfall, climbing the siege tower (last stronghold of the Albanian resistance against communism) and shadowing my hosts. The Harusha’s (my hosts) had 5 children. Two girls (who were married and lived in the city) and 3 boys who lived in the village and helped run the business. There are 15 families that permanently live in Thethi, and most of them have been their for several generations. During the winter months the snow makes the roads impassable and sometimes for close to 6 months the villagers reside mostly indoors without power. On an average winter the family will butcher 4 pigs, 6 sheep and countless chickens to keep them through the freezing months. The wife, or woman of the house, makes loaf after loaf of bread, sauerkraut, sheep cheese and fermented meats. (It is not uncommon to enter an Albanian country household and see meats hanging from the ceiling drying). There are power lines that run to the village but it is unreliable during the heavy snow storms. Most foods are cooked over an open fire or in a coal oven, and all water is irrigated from the river (which can also be a problem during freezing temperatures). Several houses in the village didn’t have any road access making them only accessible by foot!

Albanian household meat drying process

One of the many waterfalls in the Alps

With a break in the storm I departed the following day and headed out the southern road towards Skhoder. The northern road which I had pedaled on my arrival is close to 70 km long and is in far better condition that then the 90 km southern road. Leaving Thethi I was quickly reminded of the rough rocky roads that I would need to pedal in order to get back to civilization. The first 20 km never deviated from the river, and I passed several secluded villages with little more than a foot path to reach each house. Eventually the road crossed the river and began to climb, these roads were a lot steeper than the others and on many occasions I had to push through mud, slick stones and large puddles.

Pedaling the river out of Thethi valley

Rough rocky roads

Another mountain meal, this one included deep fried bacon fat

The next day the road traveled though a beautiful canyon similar in beauty to the mountains of the Nepali coast on the Hawaiian island of Kauai. The road stopped climbing and followed the river out of the canyon, I was back to civilization just a few km from the city of Shkoder. I stopped shy of the city and pitched my tent hear an abandoned stone house on the banks of the river. I woke up to a cold down pour, packed up and pedaled out of the city to another remote village, Koman. A daily ferry from Koman travels up river through the Albanian alps to the city of Fierza. The route is extremely popular as it said that the scenery marvels Norway!!

Road to Koman, the ferry travels this river north through a fjord to the city of Fierza

One hour from now I will board the ferry and hope to find a nice spot to dry my clothes and tent. Last night I arrived after dark and slept on the floor of an Albanian Polka restaurant. Albania is as fascinating as it is interesting. In these remote locations it is almost like traveling a hundred years into the past. From here I will travel the Alps into Kosovo, and on the lakes of Macedonia. Touch base again soon.

Rain in the village of Koman