Ohrid

In these remote mountain valleys, it's no secret who lives here - their flag, and that of the country just over the western border flutters above almost every house. The double-headed black eagle on red of Albania replaces the glorious golden sun of Macedonia. Just another Balkan mismatch of homelands and officially delineated territories.

The bus stops at a rest area in a high mountain pass. Through the trees, you can see back in the direction of Skopje, although the city is hidden behind a range. The space between is almost-uninhabited, undisturbed mountain forest for miles and miles. Fat clouds hang low over the peaceful alpine scene.

Rolling down from the mountains later, you pull into Ohrid. The lake is just out of sight, but you get a gorgeous first view when you arrive at your room. A large Macedonian flag is catching the breeze down by the water's edge, and you can see the placid blue water rippling beyond, and the mountains of Albania itself just a few miles away, across the lake. Once again, you are so close to that fabled country, but it eludes you still - for a little longer.

~

A statue of a lynx greets you at the entrance to the national park. You imagine spottingone stalking through the thick undergrowth, and a shiver runs up your spine. You set off from the base of the mountain, to go up and up and see the city and water from on high.

The thought of another predator of these slopes preoccupies you, though. You've read that, because their numbers are growing and they are needing to spread out into new territories, bears are increasingly terrorizing Macedonian villagers. Raiding bins and being a general menace. Bear stuff. What if you saw one up here, wild and free?

~

The lake glitters in sapphire jewel tones below, and from here you can see the strategically-advantageous position Ohrid holds in the landscape. It's surrounded by water, and wooded hills. You turn back to the road, and you freeze. Something is crashing and rustling around in the trees just off the roadside. You only just started hiking, ten minutes ago, but it's happening already. It's a bear.

You can see its shadowy shape pawing at the branches, tearing them down under the canopy. Your heart is in your mouth as you inch forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the beast, just one view, so you can scuttle away undetected but with that image seared into your mind forever. You get a little closer. You realize that you don't actually know what the safe thing to do is if a bear sees you - play dead? Or shout and scream, scare it off? Your feet are just telling you to run back down the hill.

But wait. Bears can't use tools. As far as you know. Yet this one is - cutting down branches for firewood, perhaps. You shake your head, leave the man to his woodwork, and keep hiking. You wonder if a man with a saw is actually more of a danger to you than a bear.

~

Later on, you carefully step along a stony trail hugging a ridge and come upon a pleasantly alpine spot. In the shadow of a stark outcrop, poppies and other little purple and yellow flowers bloom in through the flint. You follow signs for the remote church you want to find. You duck under low trees, and a silvery snake wriggles across your path, glinting in the sunlight. A few minutes later, through a gap in the canopy you see the terracotta roof of the church poking out across the valley.

You loop back on yourself, climbing up and up to the sleepy village, before flying back down the slopes, the cleanest of air filling your lungs with euphoria. After all the cities, a green and blue oasis.Baca lagi