Anna Buxton

Summer 2013 Macedonia

Travels in Macedonia

Last summer we took a decision with our friends S. and V. to jump in a car and to investigate the territory of the South-West Balkans, where we had not visited beyond Ohrid. Out itinerary started form Burgas, Bulgaria and after spending the night in Kyustendil (western Bulgaria), we took the road to Macedonia.

 Our first port of call was Skopie – we were curious to see the new town centre, which according to rumour was extraordinary – as far as I gathered, not in the positive sense of the word, but rather in the negative. We wanted to acquire personal impressions on the issue and not to rely on those of others.

We stopped the car at a parking place in the centre of town, near the Arch of Triumph, which had a very good resemblance to her French relative.  It looked as if the Macedonians were hinting at the French and the English, that everyone could have treasures like that, if they had a few bob!

We were so amazed by the view ahead; we had neglected to look left and right! On the left of us was the Houses of Parliament with a solitary statue of a horseman. On the opposite side of the street, however, one could see a whole sculptural group neo- Roman style, consisting of a white colonnade, topped with a golden statue, in front of which, along several steps, stood a tall, white pedestal, with four golden horses, supported by eight carrier columns.

And if you think, that what I described so far was all, you were sadly mistaken! Quite a few other single statues were positioned in the vicinity of the Arch of Triumph, some, dedicated to people, like Hristo

Tatrchev, who died barely fifty years ago.

After taking pictures, animated discussions and general amazement, we moved to the other side of the Arch. There, we almost bumped into the snow-white stone statue of The Bulgarian Tsar Samuil – claimed by the Macedonians for their own, despite the fact that his effective killer – the Byzantine Emperor Basil was nicknamed – Bulgaroctonos – the Bulgar-slayer. It was barely three meters away from the at least ten metres tall statue of Alexander the Great on his horse, cooled by a great fountain, based round its carrier column. The expanse of tiles on the square was interrupted by several groups of statues – in the distance was that of Philip of Macedonia.

Well, the Bulgarians have his capital in Philippopolis (Plovdiv), the Greeks – his grave, why shouldn’t the Macedonians at least have his statue, you may ask.

 A bit closer were the statues of Macedonian revolutionaries from the past century, Cyril and Methodius – the creators of the Slavonic – Old Bulgarian alphabet, the Roman emperor Justinian. We were wondering how he was related to the Macedonians, but I thought he may originate from somewhere here.

We reached the river Vardar, on the other side of which, in the old Albanian part, a new Archaeological Museum had been built, alongside another administrative building. Towards them led two bridges, each one of them, sporting 18 statues on one side and 18 on the other, between the lamps on the parapets!!! Built in Palladium style, they impressed from far away; the Museum was not yet open.

On our right on Macedonia Square was situated the newly built Museum of that there was another fountain with large horses.

The old Ottoman bridge on the river Vardar attracted the view with its modest, unpretentious style. When I looked down in the river, I was amazed to see a statue of a lady swimmer in her bathing suite, ready to jump in to the river and another one, whose top half was already in the water! Not far from them stood a notice – Swimming is forbidden!

Having crossed the bridge, we were now in the old Albanian part of the city, near the Fortress of Skopie. Despite being added to, the walls warmed our hearts with the feeling of something genuinely old. Not far from the fortress was the old Hamam – the Turkish Baths, which also have not changed for several centuries.

We started our walk into the old part of the city, where modest two-story houses with shops and restaurants were positioned in a pedestrianized area. – one had the feeling of going back in time.  It was Sunday and we realised that apart from the tourists, there were mainly men and children on the streets.  We also noticed that all ladies’ shops were closed and all men’s – for shirts, ties, etc – were open.

We had lunch in a pleasant terraced restaurant –  the men had Tafche na Grafchea local speciality and Skopsko Pivo, we had something else.  It was noticeable how many antique shops were open – all selling books, folk costumes, carpets, knives and all sorts of nick-knacks.

Powered by the late lunch, we crawled to the car, so that we could take the road to Ohrid, where we were spending the night. Driving out of Skopie, we noted, that on the streets, many women were wearing Muslim cotton overcoats, shalvars (wide ladies’ trousers made from light material) and head scarves. Mosques and Albanian flags proliferated.

In the middle of the road between Skopie and Ohrid, we decided to stop at a services place – with food, toilets and a large car-park. The food offered included coffee, tea, sandwiches, mekizti – sweet fried dough and all sorts of other things. We stopped the car and started to climb the steps to the coffee shop, positioned on a small hill. We bought snacks and drinks and sat down to consume them. Down in the plain, the members of a wedding party were dancing – elegantly dressed in smart clothes, they were waving – with some difficulty, a giant – at least two metres long Albanian flag. We were beginning to worry what was awaiting us in Albania!

We arrived in Ohrid in the afternoon and found our hotel. We left the luggage there and went out for a walk. As it was not our first visit to Ohrid, we decided not to visit the usual tourist destinations, we were just happy to breath the wonderful air of Ohrid, in which hung memories of the Bulgarian Kingdom, the Byzantine and the Ottoman Empires, to enjoy the view of its amazing calm, laconic lake, whose light waves were barely licking the coast.

The centre of Ohrid, full of old buildings, was now filling with people – the evening was approaching and the old Balkan traditions of an evening walk round the coast was in full strength. Walking on the cobbled streets, listening to the echoes of many steps, we were in search of a restaurant. S. was checking the menus everywhere, looking for local Ohrid lake fish. At the end – one was approved and we

sat on a table in restaurant in a small cove and ordered Plashtitza (the smallest local fish) and Belvitza (the bigger variety) – both unique to the Ohrid lake. With the supper, we ordered a bottle of Alexander (white) and a local Traminer.

During the time it took for the supper to come, we enjoyed the advent of the sunset. The bright, golden sun lit the sky and contrasted with the dark

 silhouette of s mall church on the hill in front of us. The gold tuned to orange, it tuned to blood-red, the light reducing continually round the corner. Night took over the sky – ahead of us were the lights of a fisherman’s village, the flickering lights of the restaurants around us, reflected in the water, were further broken down by its movement. Enthused by the beauty around us, as well as the tasty supper and the good wine, we were making plans for the next day, when we were going to pass into Albanian territory.

s favourites, so I was quite keen on doing the detour. The reed-covered end of the lake was pouring into the river bed with great strength, joyfully spraying water, whose drops looked as if pearls were being thrown at the sun and twittering delicately. We positioned ourselves on the bridge for a photo. The river was on its long way to the Adriatic sea.

After a while, we got ready to cross the border. In the car we spoke about the desire of the Macedonian Government to coin a new “old history” and to distance themselves from all other Balkan nationalities – especially the Bulgarians. The nationalistic statement of all those new statues was evidently increasing the desire of their large ( 40%) Albanian minority to define their own national identity. We asked ourselves would the second be so strong, if the first was absent?

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