October 1-5, 2011: Ohrid, perched on the north-east shore of its eponymous lake, one of Europe’s deepest and oldest, if not largest, is apparently enormously popular in the summer. I’m sure I would hate it then. Happily, at the beginning of October there were just enough visitors to keep most of the cafes and restaurants open, without swamping the narrow streets of the old town, or blanketing the beaches with bodies. Just as I love Nice in April, I loved Ohrid in October.
I hadn’t bothered to buy a bus ticket ahead of time, although I did arrive unnecessarily early at Skopje’s bus station. People were still rushing over to board the bus as it started to leave. This time I was able to enjoy the mountainous scenery in relative peace, and discovered at the rest stop that it was already pretty chilly up high. I bargained for a taxi at Ohrid’s much smaller bus station, and noticed that access to the old town was controlled. Good thing, as there was hardly room for even one car on most of the streets. I was staying at the west end, in a room above a restaurant. (I never saw anyone actually eating in the restaurant, except at breakfast.) After the Rose Diplomatique my room at the Vila Sveti Sofija was a bit of a comedown, but clean and functional (and cheaper!), although the mattress dipped so much at the head end of the bed, I slept the other way round.
The lake was beautiful, the town was lovely, the sun shone… True, the food and drink wasn’t always up to par, but I quickly found that better food was to be had a block or two inland (notably at the Restoran Sveta Sofija, not to be confused with my hotel). I took one short boat trip along the coast, but while the scenery was fine, and the water crystal-clear, it mostly served to remind me that I quickly get bored on boats, and to justify my decision not to take the much longer ride to and from Sveti Zaum at the south end of the lake.
Ohrid occupied all of the flat land along the waterfront, with newer hotels filling the east end, and a shopping street running inland towards the Turkish quarter and the bus station, while the old town occupied a hill, the houses clustered together below the 10th century castle and the Roman theater. Yes, we’re talking really old here, Byzantine churches rather than Ottoman mosques, and the place where St. Kliment created the Cyrillic alphabet. I got plenty of exercise trekking up and down to check out the houses and visit the castle and theater (disappointing), the icon museum (angry-looking saints), and the churches. And admire the views, which were definitely worth the climb. For me, the do-not-miss church was Sveti Jovan, just out of town at Kaneo beach. It sits on a cliff above the water and the views are lovely, especially at sunset. You don’t even have to climb to admire it, as there’s a wooden walkway at sea level, and it looks pretty good from below.
After I saw Meli’s tour group in Skopje and discovered that we would be in Ohrid at the same time, I sent her an email, and we eventually talked on bad cell-phone connections. She invited me to eat dinner with her group, but seemed not to know where they were staying or where they were eating. Finally her fixer left directions with my hotel’s front desk. Sadly, it wasn’t a great evening. I liked her tour group, almost all from Washington state, and repeat clients, but the meal, at the Belvedere, was awful, and the music and dance show made conversation difficult. I don’t think Meli recognized me, although I had spent most of my tour with her hopping around on crutches. And I hardly recognized her, she seemed so much less engaged and enthusiastic than the guide I remembered. A pity, I should have settled for the memories.
Very nice described. I come from Ohrid myself, I like the way you have put your tour into words.