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Jun. 10th, 2006 11:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elizillaThis morning we were told we could sleep late. When I got up, the sun was out. Yay! This town was called Ohrid, and it looked much better after adequate sleep and without loud music. I learned that we would have breakfast here, in about an hour. Not only that, but Irene and Trond's room had a much less scary bathroom than mine, and they offered me the use of their shower. I jumped at the chance to wash my hair.
I was in the shower and had just gotten my hair thoroughly wet, when Irene started pounding on the door saying Igor wanted to leave now, I should hurry! What now? Argh! When I came out, people were scrambling around loading the bikes. I said "I thought we were having breakfast here?" and was told we were actually having breakfast in town. Back in my room I braided my hair even as it continued to drip. I hoped we would have enough time not on the bikes, to take it out and dry it before it started to smell.
My ankle was still hurting where I'd been kicked two days before. I examined it and realized that it wasn't just a bruise, the skin had been broken and it was now infected. Great. Just what I needed. My first aid kit didn't have any salve, so I asked Irene and S, and neither had anything in their first aid kit for this either. I decided to consult Jordi, since he works as a nurse. Jordi agreed that it looked infected, but he didn't have anything for it. I would just have to look for something along the way somewhere. I cleaned it with soap and covered it with a bandage, and finished suiting up.
A local motorcyclist led us to a cafe in the market part of town. It was called Neim. He led us right into the pedestrian area, past the parking blocks. The proprietor had us park in his space, but there wasn't quite enough room. Then the lady with the fabric shop next door waved welcome for us to park in front of her store as well. I shucked my helmet and unbraided my hair quick, for maximum dry time.
They said we'd stay here a while, so Robert and I wandered off in search of bank machines and money exchanges. I'd long since run out of Euros, and I now owed S about EU$200, yet I was still carrying several hundred dollars in US funds. I'd rather exchange that for Euros than carry even more cash. The first sign we saw for exchange, turned out to be some sort of pawnshop. But a little farther down the way, we found a bank. Inside, the teller spoke English. She informed us that they could not change my US dollars, but they could provide us with Euros if we took the money out in local currency from their bank machine, and brought in the receipt from the bank machine. The exchange rate was 62-point-something dinera to the Euro. We went back out to the bank machine and Robert tried it first. He got a message saying this was an invalid transaction. My turn next. I requested 20,000 dinera. Wonder of wonders, it worked. I went inside and bought EU$300 with it, and had local money left over. Yay! Robert realized he had misplaced a zero and requested ten times what he intended from his bank card. That card didn't work for the rest of the trip; he'd triggered the shutoff at his bank. Back at the restaurant I paid S what I owed him, and had money left.
We ordered a variety of things for breakfast. I had some sort of stew with white beans and sausage. It was really good. This restaurant was owned by someone big in the local motorcycling scene, and he had all these photos of rallies he'd been to. We all signed his guest book, and took turns flipping through it to see who else had signed. Lots of motorcycle tourists had been here.
Jordi pointed out a pharmacy across the street, and I went in there to look for something for my leg. The pharmacist spoke excellent English. He had me come behind the counter and sit down, and show him the wound. He thought maybe it was blistering caused by my boot, but I told him about getting kicked in the ankle two days before, and how the boot was probably irritating it but was not the original trauma. He found a little tube of ointment for it, and some dressings to cover it. The charge for all this was EU$5, and it was better care than I would get from a real doctor, if I'd come down with something like this in the USA.
S had found a currency exchange that was open and would exchange my US dollars for Euros. So I got another EU$300. Suddenly I was flush. Yay!
We wandered around the market and I spent some of my local currency. I bought a nice scarf from the fabric store whose owner had so graciously let us park in her space. I got some hair sticks. I wandered through some clothing stores. I found a grocery and got some bottled water and a box of cookies. My hair dried completely. It felt so amazingly good to have clean hair!
Then it was time to suit up. As I was putting on my helmet and jacket, the local guy told me it wasn't necessary to wear gear. Maybe I'm being obstinate about the ATGATT thing, but IMHO it's always necessary to wear gear when riding. And besides, if I don't wear it, how shall I carry it? This guy carried his helmet on his elbow. I think it's more comfortable to carry on my head, thank you.
He led us up the hill, through narrow winding roads, through an archway, and down a tree-lined avenue to an old church. We spent the next 45 minutes or so, wandering around there. A sign on the outside of the church read "MEDIEVAL CHURCH SS CLEMENT AND PANTELEIMON 9th - 15th centuries." It turned out that this church was actually destroyed by the Ottomans, centuries ago, but in 2002 the church was rebuilt on the same site, to the same plans as the church that was destroyed. The area around the rebuilt church had ongoing archaeological work, and there were huge mosaics being uncovered in two spots on the grounds. We wandered around looking at them.
From here, we rode out, around the lake, and saw another old church on the other side of the lake, near the Albanian border. There was a hotel sharing the grounds of this church, and they had peacocks roaming about. The road to this church was fun, very twisty, though we did have a little rain.
When we got back to Ohrid, we got on the freeway. There were tolls on this freeway, but our new local guide led us around them. We would come to the toll booths, and go around them, squeezing the bikes through between the poles that served as a barrier to cars! No one batted an eye. And it wasn't just a case of motorcycles being exempt; I saw the signs and they showed a picture of a bike and listed a price. Crazy!
In between being toll scofflaws, we just flew down that highway. Despite having spent most of the day poking around Lake Ohrid, we arrived in Skopje at dusk. At our hotel, we were met by Zeljko's wife, Jasmina, and by an assortment of curious children from the neighborhood. Several of the children spoke English and were pleased to show it off to us. S and I spent a half hour or so chatting with kids and letting them take turns sitting on the bikes. They were so interested that it made us a bit nervous, so we were careful to put the chains on the bikes before we went inside.
Inside, Igor arranged with the front desk clerk, for someone to be called in to do laundry! Oh frabjous joy! Clean clothes! I had all but given up on that. We were instructed to gather up what we wanted washed, and bring it down quickly. Clean clothes and clean hair on the same day! Woohoo!
Jasmina had arranged for us to have dinner in a small private restaurant, and for several taxis to carry us there. Dinner was terrific. Like most restaurants we'd been to, the house specialty was mixed meat. But we also had some new things. There were chunks of warm bread piled in heaps with feta cheese, and a special liver dish. Both were very tasty.
After dinner, the plan was to walk around the city. But it was after midnight and at least some of us were tired. Irene, Trond, S and I went back to the hotel instead. Robert and Boban went dancing.
I shared a room with Elvis and S. It was an attic room, very large, with four beds and several skylights. Through the open skylights, we could hear people in the area watching World Cup Football (aka soccer) and just roaring. Every now and then, something would happen in the game, and we'd hear thousands of voices raised, and horns honking all over the city.
I was in the shower and had just gotten my hair thoroughly wet, when Irene started pounding on the door saying Igor wanted to leave now, I should hurry! What now? Argh! When I came out, people were scrambling around loading the bikes. I said "I thought we were having breakfast here?" and was told we were actually having breakfast in town. Back in my room I braided my hair even as it continued to drip. I hoped we would have enough time not on the bikes, to take it out and dry it before it started to smell.
My ankle was still hurting where I'd been kicked two days before. I examined it and realized that it wasn't just a bruise, the skin had been broken and it was now infected. Great. Just what I needed. My first aid kit didn't have any salve, so I asked Irene and S, and neither had anything in their first aid kit for this either. I decided to consult Jordi, since he works as a nurse. Jordi agreed that it looked infected, but he didn't have anything for it. I would just have to look for something along the way somewhere. I cleaned it with soap and covered it with a bandage, and finished suiting up.
A local motorcyclist led us to a cafe in the market part of town. It was called Neim. He led us right into the pedestrian area, past the parking blocks. The proprietor had us park in his space, but there wasn't quite enough room. Then the lady with the fabric shop next door waved welcome for us to park in front of her store as well. I shucked my helmet and unbraided my hair quick, for maximum dry time.
They said we'd stay here a while, so Robert and I wandered off in search of bank machines and money exchanges. I'd long since run out of Euros, and I now owed S about EU$200, yet I was still carrying several hundred dollars in US funds. I'd rather exchange that for Euros than carry even more cash. The first sign we saw for exchange, turned out to be some sort of pawnshop. But a little farther down the way, we found a bank. Inside, the teller spoke English. She informed us that they could not change my US dollars, but they could provide us with Euros if we took the money out in local currency from their bank machine, and brought in the receipt from the bank machine. The exchange rate was 62-point-something dinera to the Euro. We went back out to the bank machine and Robert tried it first. He got a message saying this was an invalid transaction. My turn next. I requested 20,000 dinera. Wonder of wonders, it worked. I went inside and bought EU$300 with it, and had local money left over. Yay! Robert realized he had misplaced a zero and requested ten times what he intended from his bank card. That card didn't work for the rest of the trip; he'd triggered the shutoff at his bank. Back at the restaurant I paid S what I owed him, and had money left.
We ordered a variety of things for breakfast. I had some sort of stew with white beans and sausage. It was really good. This restaurant was owned by someone big in the local motorcycling scene, and he had all these photos of rallies he'd been to. We all signed his guest book, and took turns flipping through it to see who else had signed. Lots of motorcycle tourists had been here.
Jordi pointed out a pharmacy across the street, and I went in there to look for something for my leg. The pharmacist spoke excellent English. He had me come behind the counter and sit down, and show him the wound. He thought maybe it was blistering caused by my boot, but I told him about getting kicked in the ankle two days before, and how the boot was probably irritating it but was not the original trauma. He found a little tube of ointment for it, and some dressings to cover it. The charge for all this was EU$5, and it was better care than I would get from a real doctor, if I'd come down with something like this in the USA.
S had found a currency exchange that was open and would exchange my US dollars for Euros. So I got another EU$300. Suddenly I was flush. Yay!
We wandered around the market and I spent some of my local currency. I bought a nice scarf from the fabric store whose owner had so graciously let us park in her space. I got some hair sticks. I wandered through some clothing stores. I found a grocery and got some bottled water and a box of cookies. My hair dried completely. It felt so amazingly good to have clean hair!
Then it was time to suit up. As I was putting on my helmet and jacket, the local guy told me it wasn't necessary to wear gear. Maybe I'm being obstinate about the ATGATT thing, but IMHO it's always necessary to wear gear when riding. And besides, if I don't wear it, how shall I carry it? This guy carried his helmet on his elbow. I think it's more comfortable to carry on my head, thank you.
He led us up the hill, through narrow winding roads, through an archway, and down a tree-lined avenue to an old church. We spent the next 45 minutes or so, wandering around there. A sign on the outside of the church read "MEDIEVAL CHURCH SS CLEMENT AND PANTELEIMON 9th - 15th centuries." It turned out that this church was actually destroyed by the Ottomans, centuries ago, but in 2002 the church was rebuilt on the same site, to the same plans as the church that was destroyed. The area around the rebuilt church had ongoing archaeological work, and there were huge mosaics being uncovered in two spots on the grounds. We wandered around looking at them.
From here, we rode out, around the lake, and saw another old church on the other side of the lake, near the Albanian border. There was a hotel sharing the grounds of this church, and they had peacocks roaming about. The road to this church was fun, very twisty, though we did have a little rain.
When we got back to Ohrid, we got on the freeway. There were tolls on this freeway, but our new local guide led us around them. We would come to the toll booths, and go around them, squeezing the bikes through between the poles that served as a barrier to cars! No one batted an eye. And it wasn't just a case of motorcycles being exempt; I saw the signs and they showed a picture of a bike and listed a price. Crazy!
In between being toll scofflaws, we just flew down that highway. Despite having spent most of the day poking around Lake Ohrid, we arrived in Skopje at dusk. At our hotel, we were met by Zeljko's wife, Jasmina, and by an assortment of curious children from the neighborhood. Several of the children spoke English and were pleased to show it off to us. S and I spent a half hour or so chatting with kids and letting them take turns sitting on the bikes. They were so interested that it made us a bit nervous, so we were careful to put the chains on the bikes before we went inside.
Inside, Igor arranged with the front desk clerk, for someone to be called in to do laundry! Oh frabjous joy! Clean clothes! I had all but given up on that. We were instructed to gather up what we wanted washed, and bring it down quickly. Clean clothes and clean hair on the same day! Woohoo!
Jasmina had arranged for us to have dinner in a small private restaurant, and for several taxis to carry us there. Dinner was terrific. Like most restaurants we'd been to, the house specialty was mixed meat. But we also had some new things. There were chunks of warm bread piled in heaps with feta cheese, and a special liver dish. Both were very tasty.
After dinner, the plan was to walk around the city. But it was after midnight and at least some of us were tired. Irene, Trond, S and I went back to the hotel instead. Robert and Boban went dancing.
I shared a room with Elvis and S. It was an attic room, very large, with four beds and several skylights. Through the open skylights, we could hear people in the area watching World Cup Football (aka soccer) and just roaring. Every now and then, something would happen in the game, and we'd hear thousands of voices raised, and horns honking all over the city.
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Date: 2006-06-28 01:16 am (UTC)