The Balkans by thumb and feet [august 2024]

After traversing the Transylvanian ridgeline in the Carpathian mountains of Romania in 2023, I wanted to go somewhere even more remote with even less people, somewhere more off the beaten path, and that is exactly what I got the following year when I went to North Macedonia in the summer of 2024. 

Walking into the Šar Mountains in North Macedonia

I flew from Copenhagen via Serbia to Skopje, the capital of North Macedonia, where I only had an evening to scramble together all the food I needed for multiple days in the mountains as well as fuel for my Trangia camping stove. This proved to be one of the most difficult parts of the trip (more difficult than climbing a mountain with giant blisters on your ankles but more on that later). 

First campsite in the Šar Mountains

After a visit to various sport equipment shops and hardware stores, I finally had to give up and buy a new stove that supported the local gas canisters. Specifically, a plinsko rešó. These colorful plastic-covered stoves are more used for roadside picnics than expeditions to the mountains. Still, it did the trick. Mine was purple. 

Sunset at camp

The next morning, I took a Flixbus from Skopje to the town of Tetovo and starting walking along a winding road into the Šar (Sharr) Mountains, a mountain range that covers the border between northwestern North Macedonia and southern Kosovo before extending into eastern Albania.

Spot my purple camp stove

As I was walking along the road going into the valley, a car stopped and the driver asked me if I needed a ride. I hadn't had my thumb out, having planned to just walk this stretch of asphalt, but the sun was burning at this low altitude in early August so I got in the car. 

Second day in the Šar Mountains

I have hitchhiked many times before, mainly with a partner but also a little by myself. This was the first time I had a truly uncomfortable experience. The young driver started touching me and getting a little to close. When we finally got to the end of the road, he took my giant backpack on his back and suggested that he accompany me into the mountains. 

I had to say no countless times but the guy finally dropped my pack and drove off. I hiked up from the little village trough a scrambly path that was mainly used by local herders and their animals, repeatedly looking behind me to check that the guy wasn't coming back after me. 

As I got to my campsite for the night, a small field of boulders with a cold spring on the side of the mountain, my mind was still quite rattled. Nevertheless, I often feel the safest in the mountains. People doing bad things tend to have other hobbies than walking around in the scarcely populated mountains where potential victims are few and far in between.

Second campsite in the Šar Mountains

The next day, I got up on the ridge and walked southwest. The cruelly hot summer temperatures of the Balkans made it hard to breath, even in the mountain air. The at times non-existent paths and my sweaty feet made me skate around in my hiking boots which resulted in giant blisters on my ankles. 

Couscous for dinner

So when I met two Kosovo-Albanian men, a professor and his nephew who had come up from Kosovo on the opposite side of the mountains, who offered me to visit them in their village, it was a tempting respite. After a night's sleep, I hiked a few kilometers back the way I had come from the day before and walked down into Kosovo.

The sun was beating down on me and I had to switch into Birkenstocks when the scrambly hiking path turned into a bumpy gravel road to alleviate my painful blisters. But the scenery was wonderful and the road was lined with ripe blueberry bushes. 

Sunrise from the tent, making breakfast

Down from the mountain and back on asphalt, I hitched a ride to the small village of Bellobrad where my new friends lived. They put me up in a small wooden cabin just up on a hill looking out over the village. I ended up pitching my mosquito net inner tent on the porch because the inside of the cabin was too warm to sleep in. I slept as prayer call from several mosques in different villages echoed throughout the valley.

The view from the wooden cabin in Bellobrad, Kosovo

During the day, I went to one of the only cafes in town looking for some coffee and Wi-Fi but since I hadn't expected to be in Kosovo, I hadn't brought any euros and the place only took cash. However, that wasn't a problem. Both the people working at the cafe as well as customers offered me plenty of drinks and made sure I had everything I needed. 

Sunset in Bellobrad, Kosovo

When I left for Prizren after a one-night stay in the cabin, they even helped get on the right bus, which stopped right next to the cafe. I no longer get surprised by all the kindness and generosity I experience while traveling but I always feel immensely grateful for it. 

In the streets of Prizren, Kosovo

In the beautiful city of Prizren, I spent a couple of days reading and relaxing, cat greeting and walking around in my Birkenstocks while my bloody blisters healed. 

In the streets of Prizren, Kosovo

While they didn't heal completely, I decided to head back to the mountains anyway. I hitchhiked east through Lumbardhi valley (I got my first ever ride in a truck that day (as truck drivers only have room for one passenger, not two)) and got dropped off at a gas station after two rides. My third and final ride of the day, which would take me to the Brezovicë Ski Center, would prove to be another uncomfortable experience.

Sunset over Prizren, Kosovo

My driver had a hotel by the ski center which he wanted to show me. Out of reciprocity (a cultural more in hitchhiking), I followed him into the hotel and accepted a can of coca cola. I won't lay out all the details of what happened but it ended with him touching my thigh a few to many times and trying to kiss me, and me storming out of the place. 

On the road in Kosovo (my first ride in a truck!!!)

He let me leave and as he drove back down the road we had come from, I hiked up the mountain in peaceful solitude but once again with a rattled mind. 

A beautiful but rejected campsite in the Šar Mountains

When I arrived at my planned campsite, I didn't want to stay. I felt very exposed, both to the elements - I arrived in the early afternoon with no cloud or shady tree in sight (see photo above) - but also exposed to people as this little lake was a popular camping and partying spot (as evidenced by broken bottles and trash lying around the lakeshore). 

So I hiked on, all the way to the mountain hut I had planned on staying at the following evening. My blisters were a little unsatisfied but I think my legs had it worse due to the unexpected extra distance, ascent and descent. But I made it, and I'm so thankful for that.

Because even though I had just had a very unpleasant encounter, I was about to experience the opposite. The mountain hut was back on North Macedonian soil but its main occupants were six Kosovo-Serbian men on their yearly guys trip, who invited me to join their table. They shared their food and wine and homemade spirits with me and even helped me pitch up my tent in front of the hut. My Slavic language skills are next to none, and their English was limited so we mainly communicated through Google Translate but it was still a wonderful evening. 

Camping at the Ljuboten hut in the Šar Mountainsof North Macedonia

Despite a few bad incidents hitchhiking alone during that trip (four in total - the two not mentioned in this post were far milder than those of which I have told), the positive encounters outnumber the bad ones. By a landslide! From my experiences, the world is mainly good. 

Camping at lake Mavrovo

Leaving the mountain hut, I hitched a quick ride from the bottom of the mountain back to Tetovo and then caught a small bus to Mavrovo National Park, known for its canyons, forests and lakes. 

Lake Mavrovo, North Macedonia

I camped in the tall grass on the edge of Mavrovo Lake and then hitchhiked along the scenic route R1202. A kind couple, who had picked me up, bought me breakfast (börek, an eternal favorite of mine) in the pretty town of Debar.

By lake Ohrid, North Macedonia

From there, I hitched a ride to the gorgeous not to mention gigantic (and very blue) lake Ohrid, which extends from North Macedonia into Albania. A true paradise, I spent the days swimming, reading, walking around the old town of Ohrid and some short day hikes. I also met a young Greek couple touring the Balkans on their motorcycles who gave me a ride (another first in terms of hitchhiking). 

View of Lake Ohrid and the town of Ohrid

Ohrid was my final stop before taking the bus back to Skopje and then returning to Denmark. North Macedonia and Kosovo are beautiful places with a sadistic summer heat but also with the kindest people. I give them 5 out of 5 stars.  

Skopje, Macedonia