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Since Kosovo seemed to be full of angry citizens, tense policemen, and tear gas, we decided we would leave early after spending three days mostly in our hotel in Prishtina. Our original plan upon leaving Kosovo was to go to Montenegro, which makes more sense geographically for our itinerary. But it’s hard to find a good bus there at the time we want, so we opted to go south into Macedonia today.
My BG at 9:00 was 172, still a little high after the 389 last night before bed. Our last breakfast at Hotel Prima was delicious and filling as usual. I’ll miss this about Kosovo.
We checked out and asked the hotel lady to call a taxi for us — Masayo wanted to breathe as little of the tear-gas-filled air in town as possible. The taxi came and drove us right to the bus station — less than €3 and no BS.
We bought tickets to Skopje, Macedonia’s capital city (called Shkup in Albanian). The bus left on time.
Someone started passing around a clipboard with a paper on it that we all had to write our names and passport numbers on.
The scenery of Kosovo was rather uninspiring. It was flat and dull, and every single business on the road side seemed to be either a junkyard full of decaying old vehicles, or a dealership for brand-new construction equipment. “Where is all this construction happening?” Masayo and I wondered.
The border was the usual deal — our passports were collected and handed back twice as we left Kosovo and then entered Macedonia.
Right away Macedonia was nicer, with less trash everywhere. We arrived, two hours after leaving Prishtina, at the bus station in Skopje (pronounced “scope yeh”).
The lady who owns the apartment we’d rented, Irena, met us as she promised. She was really nice, and we all started walking towards the apartment, about a 15-minute walk. One of the first things she said was that the air in Skopje was the worst in this part of Europe. I looked at poor Masayo, who gritted her teeth and bore it.
We checked into the large apartment, which was old but perfect for us. I checked my BG, which was 265. Leftover nonsense from yesterday, I suspected. I had some cereal and cashews that we had brought from Kosovo and took a big shot for it.
A little later we went walking a little bit around Skopje. The first thing we noticed was the large number of statues, everywhere. All of them seemed new, and very grand and dramatic. Most of Skopje was destroyed in an earthquake in 1963, and the rebuilding has been defiant and ambitious, and more than a little gaudy. In a nice way.
We went through the giant copy of the Arc de Triomphe (flanked by several statues, of course) and went to the center square, then to the Stone Bridge that is also surrounded by statues and fountains. I found a vendor selling records — lots of pretty good stuff, but no Ray Charles. I bought a used road map of Macedonia from him though.
Back in the room, my BG was now 143. Much better. We had stopped at a supermarket and Masayo made dinner for us in the kitchen — pasta with meat, and salad. I also opened the small bottle of wine I got at Žiča Monastery in Kraljevo, Serbia, that I had been carrying around. It all went very well together. I took a larger than usual shot of Humalog — I am determined to fix my recurring problem of being really high after dinner.
After an hour I felt ok, and wanted dessert: some rich baklava we had bought. I took another shot for it, and ate it. Man, it was good. What a perfect dinner, and it was nice to be in a place that Masayo could breathe (the air wasn’t actually bad here) and there were no violent protests happening.
So how had I done with the shot? At 9 pm I was 146. Yes, not 346 but 146! I was chuffed, as my British friends would say.
Sealing the deal, I checked again at 12:45 am and was 168. Perfect for a big meal, a double shot, and moving around all day and being in a new country. Good night!
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