First, the cycling

Compared to day one, the metrics returned to normal, meaning same power numbers as before, but at a 30 bpm discount on the heart rate. At least until I bonked after 95km, just in time to start a 25km climb, then the power fell off a cliff. Joy.

Otherwise, it was lovely. Mostly rural, rolling hills mixing between agriculture and untouched forest.

Kosovo is mostly plains, with a few massive mountain ranges which serve as borders, and I was crossing the plains to get to the border with Montenegro.

(massive wall of mountain separating Kosovo and Montenegro. Called “the accursed” mountains.)

(The mountains, as seen from my hotel that evening. I rode into the canyon)

(the canyon looked like this)

(and this. spectacular)

Notes on the other stuff, like Kosovo

Kosovo loves speedbumps (is that one word, or am I picking up on the German tendency to mash compound nouns together?). They are everywhere, they are sharp, and they are sneaky little bastards. My route planner sends me on side roads, and though normally I appreciate not riding on large roads, in Kosovo, honestly, it’s awful. The speedbumps are unmarked, just additional heaps of the exact same road surface, nearly invisible to the eye, and you can’t take them faster than 10kmh without risking getting bucked off the bike. When you’re staring down another five hours of riding, or for that matter already on hour five, you don’t want to shed speed. It hurts mentally. And when you don’t see them coming, it hurts physically!

People

People are incredibly friendly. The folks I met at the gas station on day one had offered to drive me the rest of the way, which was about 50km. Then on day two, I got passed by a Cat front loader, and the guy gave me some encouragement, slowed down, and gestured for me to hold on to his tractor. Which was tempting, but no doubt would have ended like this:

No thanks. I got a few other thumbs up from drivers, and though the language barrier is pretty huge, smiles and body language are easy to understand.

Speaking of drivers, I was definitely warned about them, but I don’t think they are crazy per sé. I would describe it as such: the road quality dictates where people drive (aka number of lanes), and the size of vehicle dictates right of way. Road quality has mostly been good, but I did find myself staring down a car going 70kph and swerving into my lane to avoid massive potholes. Or rather, to avoid a section of missing road…pothole would be generous. He swerved back into his lane before he flattened me, obviously, but it was a teachable moment, and I kept my eye out for road quality after that. Riding in cities is a bit like playing frogger, but that’s to be expected and honestly, it’s kinda fun. The best defense is a good offense. And dealing with asshole Berlin drivers has been good practice!

Dogs

And speaking of assholes, I have also learned that not all dogs are friendly or uninterested. Some are mean and very interested. I got chased by two (separately), the first of which was a mangy beast the size of a golden retriever who probably could have sent me to the hospital. Thankfully I passed him on a slight downhill, so I put the power of Jesus into the pedals and rode off before he could get close enough to bite. Had goosebumps for a solid minute after that. The next dog was a fair bit smaller, but caught me off guard. He was looking at me and not doing anything, and then he suddenly turned aggressive. Again, put the hammer down, and this time I had my dog whistle handy and blew it like crazy, but I couldn’t tell if it worked or if he gave up because I was far enough away. Don’t know don’t care.

History

Even if I understood it I couldn’t explain it quickly, but a lot of my downtime has been spent reading up on all the times Kosovo has changed hands, how the different countries in the region (former Yugoslavia etc.) have developed, and how relations are today. Needless to say, it’s complicated. And fascinating. And, as is usually the case, brutal. The two most important relationships are with Serbia, the neighbor who refuses to acknowledge Kosovan independence, believing rather that Kosovo still belongs to them; and Albania, the friendly neighbor and ethnic and linguistic majority. They seem to really dislike Serbia (all city names here are in Albanian and Serbian, but I’ve been corrected multiple times when using the Serbian version), and you see Albanian flags everywhere, including in shops. No Serbian flags.

End of blah blah blah

Sooo, what to say? Three days in and it’s awesome. Would love to come back, and would recommend the area to everyone.