I arrived in the airport in good time which was a good thing as I had to answer several questions due to the large tube of pr posters I had attached to my rucksack. They were wrapped rather conspicuously in a black plastic bag secured with yellow duct tape. After convincing the security officials I was not carrying a bazooka and I was a genuine Girl Guide I put my bag through oversized luggage, convinced that it might be months if not years before I was reunited with it. I went happily to my gate and was delighted to find on my way a smoking lounge alongside my gate! Delighted I was as my flight was delayed, no doubt due to the fact that there was a bazooka shaped bag going on board. So I waited, smoked, read, send incredulous text messages and eventually boarded my flight. The plane was spacious, comfortable and the flight attendants even brought me free food and drinks! I highly recommend flying Swiss air! We landed uneventfully in Bulgaria and I proceeded with dread to the baggage carousel. To my surprise, my bag arrived undamaged from controlled explosions and intact! Happy days! So I left the airport and hailed a taxi. I had done some research about Bulgarian taxies and got into a recommended car. Due to a Metallica concert in Sofia that night, a normally twenty minute journey took almost two hours. I saw quite a bit of Sofia and I have to say I was unimpressed. It reminded me very much of certain areas of Tallagh during the eighties. Eventually I arrived at my next destination, paid an extortionate amount of money to the taxi driver, the internet lies, and wandered off to find the bus that would take me to Skopje. My extensive internet research lead me to believe that several different bus companies ran a regular service from Sofia to Skopje and it was a simple thing to procure a ticket for said bus. Nothing could be further from the truth. I went happily and expectantly into the big new shiney bus station, only to find no less than fifty seven bus companies each with a small ticket booth. Ah ha, you might say, just ask at the general information desk and they could indicate the numerous companies operating the Sofia Skopje line. I approached the desk and the girl that was doing her nails, (I kid you not) and asked hopefully for ‘Skopje?’
“Nah” she said.
“English?” I said.
“Nah” she said.
“Deutsch” I said.
“Nah” she said.
“Francais” I said.
“Nah” she said.
“Italiano” I said.
“Nah” she said.
“ok” I said.
“Nah” she said.
So I started, a little worried at this point as night was falling, to ask at each of the fifty seven ticket desks.
“Skopje?” I said.
“Nah” they all said.
After about thirty desks, an older woman took pity on me and pointed out the door to a small market across the street and over a dark carpark.
“Skopje” I said.
“Skopje” she said.
Ok, so off I went, across the street, through the carpark and into the market. I discovered it was not quite a market but in fact full of more bus companies, small booth like ticket offices! So I began again on the search.
“Skopje?” I said.
“Nah” they said.
After I was beginning to lose hope, I spotted a tiny window with MAT written on the glass. Maybe, I thought MAT means Macedonia! Excitement and hope surged through as I approached the window with a shy smile and said-
“Skopje?”
“yes” she said “ Do you speak English?”
“YES”, I nearly cried, “I thought I would never find you”
“Would you like a ticket to Skopje for tonight?” She asked, smiling at my obvious relief.
“Yes, one way please” I said
“I think you are a student”
“Yes but I don’t have a card”
“That’s ok”
I was never so happy to get a bus ticket.
“It’s a blue bus that will arrive at ten to seven in the car park, it has ‘Gregors’ written on the side.”
I was very grateful for this because at a quarter to seven, about twenty busses pulled in with signs in their windows written in Bulgarian. (which has no relation whatsoever to English)
My big blue fun bus arrived in due time and I approached the friendly faced driver, ticket clutched in sweaty paw. He took my ticket and my bag and showed me to the door of the bus. Happy days. I could now relax, six hour bus journey ahead of me, sleepy time!
I was gently woken some time later, and told ‘Pause’ by the nice driver. I assumed this meant we were taking a break, so I got off the bus and stretched my legs, smoked a cigarette and looked around. It was fully dark at this stage and all I could see was the shadow of the surrounding hills, and the small restaurant/bar/general store in front of us. After ten minutes or so the drivers returned to the bus and we were off again. I was delighted to see a movie in English, with Bulgarian Subtitles, playing on the TV that was strapped to the ceiling with what looked like a mans belt. The movie was an eighties made for TV thriller. Back to dreamy land for me, but not for long as we soon arrived at the Bulgaria- Macedonia border.
Bear in mind that Bulgaria is in the EU and Macedonia is not, so this is an EU border crossing.
A Bulgarian EU border crossing.
So we arrive, soviet style watchtowers big scary men with guns, and we are ordered off the bus. Everyone else starts to get their baggage out of the bus and opening it up, so groaning inwardly at the prospect of explaining my mysteriously wrapped tube to Bulgarian border guards, I start to open my expertly, tightly packed rucksack, knowing full well I will never get everything back in if asked to take anything out.
But I was lucky, the big scary men with guns took our passports and left us waiting in the harsh lights and muggy night for an hour and then came out and told us to be on our way. Happy days I thought as I snuggled back into my seat for another nap, how wrong I was. The nice driver saw me settling back for my snooze and kindly informed me we were not through yet. Three more similar check points, three more sets of men with big scary guns. Lots of questions, I an eternally grateful for my friendly bus driver and his free translation service. It took quite a long time to explain where I was going, only I could produce a leaflet in Macedonian explaining the Jamboree I could still be there. (I think the leaflet explained the jamboree, it could have been an instruction manual for a microwave for all I knew.)
Any way, after the three check points and two and a half hours we were again on the road, it was now some time after midnight, but I cant be sure because Bulgaria is in a different time zone from Macedonia, surprise, so between the sleeping and the time zone confusion I am still a bit hazy on when as well as where the hell I was.
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