Balkan Adventure

The adrenalin was coursing through my veins as I handed my ticket to the bus driver. Was I being a fool or was I just overreacting? Kosovo doesn’t spring immediately to mind as a tourist destination, but I wasn’t really looking for two weeks on a beach either. I had had fun in Belgrade; it’s definitely a party city and I was shown nothing but kindness and hospitality by its inhabitants. Although I don’t normally like cities, I enjoyed strolling down the wide pedestrianised Knez Mihailova with its many street side café’s, all vying for custom with the chic young inhabitants of the city.

It was time to board the 22:30 to Pristina. Large coaches were being filled with suitcases and goods while people stood around chattering and smoking. It was pleasantly warm still but there was a heavy aroma of oil and exhaust fumes permeating the air. I purchased some bottled water and fruit for the journey and extricated books and stereo from my rucksack before taking my seat.

The border checks passed without incident, and it was strange to see the few UN troops standing around, stamping their feet in the cold night air. On the Serbian side, one simply has to pass through a checkpoint, rather than an official border crossing, as Serbia does not recognise Kosovo’s independence. My passport was given a cursory glance and then handed back. I always get a shiver of excitement when crossing land borders in Eastern Europe, bringing thoughts of George Smiley or James Bond, and this proved to be no exception. A new frontier, in the truest sense!

It was 4am and I had arrived at the bus station on the outskirts of Pristina. The darkness soon turned to dawn and the first rays of the sun peered out over the crumbling rooftops of the city. The sky went from pink to deep blue, with the promise of another warm Balkan day. At about six thirty I started heading in the direction of town. I made my way along Bill Clinton Boulevard, past the mini Statue of Liberty on the roundabout, and walked the short distance into the small city. The roads were a complete state, just made of sand, with diggers parked up on the crude pavements. The place looked very run down, but with an air of progress; workers busy creating the capital of Europe’s newest country.

I wandered through the small suburbs of high-rise utilitarian apartment blocks and along some not altogether unpleasant tree lined boulevards. I found a little café that was just opening and went in and ordered an espresso. The sun was now rising higher in the sky and dawn had given way to a clear bright morning. Opposite the café was some sort of office or Government building with three or four white 4X4’s parked outside. They all bore the familiar large UN letters in black on the outside and I felt I had truly arrived somewhere far from home.