The Mariovo and Lake Prespa: Part 11 of The Balkans

The Badlands of the Border, The Salonika Front and a Serene Blue Tectonic Lake

Into the Mariovo

North Macedonia

Our destination for the day was the city of Ohrid, but as it was only 70km from Bitola we first took a short trip in the opposite direction into the Mariovo district, described by Lonely Planet as the badlands of the border country where the sound of exploding World War One armament caches can still be heard during summer wildfires.

Macedonia had the misfortune of being the main battlefield in the First Balkan War (Oct 1912 - May 1913) in which the Balkan League ganged up on Turkey to drive the Ottoman empire almost entirely out of Europe and in the Second Balkan War (June to August 1913) in which Bulgaria, unhappy about how little of Macedonia it had been given at the end of the first war, fought its erstwhile allies. The Bulgarians were defeated but the war allowed the Turks to regain part of the territory previously lost. Then came the First World War; Bulgaria joined up with Germany and the Austro-Hungarian Empire against the Kingdom of a Serbia and pushed south through Macedonia, then part of Serbia. They were stopped in the Mariovo region by a combined allied force and by 1916 there was a static front where half a million Bulgarians faced an army of 700,000 French, British, Serbians, Italians, Russians and Greeks.

Todays journey in purple

Finding our way out of Bitola and down the road towards the Mariovo was not easy; not only was it was unsigned, but the police were diverting traffic away from what we thought was our turning around a busy street market.

French Military Cemetery, Bitola

We worked round them and on the outskirts of Bitola came across a huge French military cemetery.

French Military Cemetery, Bitola

On the outskirts of Bitola we came across a huge French military cemetery. The French bore the brunt of the fighting on the Macedonian Front (also known as the Salonika front) and although it was described as 'stable' from 1916 until the collapse of the Central Powers in 1918 that does not mean it was a safe or comfortable place to be. There are the graves of 6,128 known dead and an ossuary containing the remains of 7,000 more who could not be identified. The killing machine that was the First World War stretched into places I had never thought about. The British dead, I later discovered, were mainly buried in cemeteries on the Greek side of the border, which at this point is less than ten miles away.

Ossuary, French Military Cemetery, Bitola

Makovo and Rapeš

After crossing the Pellagonian plain the road started to rise into the Mariovo. This region of rolling uplands was once wealthy, its prosperity based on sheep, but two world wars and the collectivisation policies of the Tito government did not help the Mariovo. There are still sheep - we saw several flocks each marshalled by their own shepherd - but there are far fewer than there used to be, much of the land is deserted and the villages filled with empty and crumbling houses.

The Mariovo countryside

The village of Makovo had 71 inhabitants in the 2002 census and probably fewer now, though there are houses for several hundred. Rapeš, a further five kilometres through largely deserted upland sheep pastures, is smaller, but here we saw houses being repaired, vegetable plots being weeded and a man in a blue boiler suit tending as many beehives as I have ever seen in one place. Despite the activity there were more empty houses than occupied ones. We went on a few kilometres, the road becoming narrower and rougher. Gradešnica, 18 km beyond Rapeš, was the next and final village. It is, I read, now the biggest settlement in the Mariovo with 80 inhabitants. We did not get there - the countryside is beautiful, but we felt we had the idea and did not need to drive to the bitter end of the road. Like the Cotswolds this area became rich on sheep, but being the battleground of two world wars and then part of a failed experiment in agricultural economics led to poverty and depopulation. The countryside is more rugged than the Cotswolds, but if fate had been different the Mariovo could have been speckled with cute villages and the weekend homes of the rich and famous.

Rapeš and some of its beehives, Mariovo

We made our way back towards Bitola, pausing briefly above the edge of the plain. The city was hidden from view (unfortunately the same could not be said of the local power station) but the mountains beyond still had streaks of snow in sheltered gullies.

Looking across the Pellagonian Plain to the mountains beyond

Lake Prespa

From Bitola we continued westward through the mountains on the M5 (a road that will take you to the Cotswolds in the UK) towards Resen. Five kilometres before the town we left the main road, turning south towards Lake Prespa, 180km² of serene blue water largely in Macedonia but with smaller parts belonging to Greece and Albania,

Blue, serene Lake Prespa

Kurbinovo, a Tortoise and Some Frescoes

We were heading for the not quite lakeside village of Kurbinovo and the church of Sveti Gorgi in the hills behind but paused for a picnic lunch by the turning onto the lane to Kurbinovo. For the first time on this trip, the sun was shining strongly and the afternoon was heating up.

The turning to Kurbinovo and Sveti Gorgi - for once well signed

Lake Prespa is a tectonic lake – at 850m the highest in the Balkans – and like all tectonic lakes (the biggest and best known being Lake Baikal in Russia and Lake Tanganyika) it is very old and very deep. At its nearest the much bigger Lake Ohrid, also a tectonic lake, is only 10km away and is 150m lower. Seismic activity has opened fissures in the karst geology that are quietly emptying Lake Prespa into Lake Ohrid - a cause of some concern to the locals. The village of Asamati on the lake shore a kilometre away in the opposite direction from Kurbinovo used to have a popular swimming beach but the receding lake has left it with a patch of mud it can do without.

Unlike the villages of the Mariovo, Kurbinovo was alive and growing with several new, well-built houses and more were under construction, though around the edges of the village the older houses look to be falling down and abandoned. Beyond, the road up to Sveti Gorgi was narrow but was mostly in good repair. We had to stop for Lynne to remove a tortoise which had spent the last five minutes sprinting across the road but had spotted the car at the last moment and withdrawn into its shell right where I wanted to drive.

Tortoise road block near Kurbinovo

According to the Lonely Planet, the church would probably be locked and the key holder would be unfindable, so we were not that disappointed at being unable to get in, but the building would have looked better without the scaffolding.

Lynne, Sveti Gorgi and some scaffolding

The frescoes are the church’s main attraction, but there are some outside, and an example of those inside can be seen on the 50 Denar bank note.

External frescoes, Sveti Gorgi, Kurbanovo

Leaving Kurbanovo we drove north to Resen, the region's main town. Resen grew up on the Roman Via Ignatia and not a lot has happened since. We stopped for petrol, the first time on this journey. The nationally fixed price is less than 90 pence a litre making it a relatively painless experience.

50 (60p) Denar note with frescoes from Sveti Gorgi

Ohrid

Ohrid

Ohrid is 25 km from Resen as the crow flies, but there is range of mountains in between and the road takes 40km to get there.

The old town of Ohrid sits on a hill beside the lake of the same name. The modern town straggles along the shore and spreads back round the hill. It is both the spiritual centre of Slavic Macedonia and the foremost holiday resort in this landlocked country.

Me, Lake Ohrid and the old town

We checked into our hotel beside the lake, where we encountered a reminder that this is an earthquake area – and that English is not widely understood.

I hope there won't be an earthquakeake

In the evening we walked a short distance to a restaurant reputed to serve the best scara in Ohrid. Scara, meat beaten flat and grilled is the most typical of Macedonian dishes and Lynne had a butterflied and grilled chicken breast while I, perversely, chose veal tagliatelle. We enjoyed a glass of mastika before our food, which was pleasingly accompanied by a bottle of Tickveš rosé. We finished with pancakes, honey and hazelnuts.

Well fed, we retired to our room and next day set off to explore Ohrid on foot.

The Balkans

Bosnia and Herzogivina (May 2012)

Part 1 Sarajevo (1): The Old Town, The New Town and That Assassination
Part 2 Sarajevo (2): The Seige
Part 3 Mostar

Croatia (May 2012)

Part 4 Dubrovnik (1): Around the City Walls
Part 5 Korčula
Part 6 Dubrovnik (2): Inside the Walls

North Macedonia (May/June 2015)

Part 7 Flying into FYRoM
Part 8 Skopje
Part 9 The Matka Canyon and Stobi
Part 10 Prilep and Bitola
Part 11 The Mariovo and Lake Prespa
Part 12 Ohrid, the Heart of Slavic Macedonia
Part 13 Ohrid to Albania The East Coast of the Lake
Part 14 Struga and Ohrid Trout
Part 15 Debar and back to Skopje

Prilep and Bitola: Part 10 of The Balkans

Across the Tikveš Wine Region and the Pelagonian Plain to the Ruins of Roman Heraclea and North Macedonia's Second City

North Macedonia

Breakfast at the Popova Kula Winery

Breakfast at Popova Kula was very Macedonian; a huge lump of feta cheese, fried unsweetened doughnuts and a glass of drinking yoghurt. They also managed to produce a cup of tea (with mint) but clearly regarded the request as eccentric.

Popova Kula Winery, Demir Kapija

Demir Kapija to Prilep

Popova Kula Vranec, Demir Kapija, Tikveš

We drove 10km back up the motorway to Negotino before turning westward across the Tikveš wine district, technically a sub-region of Povadarie, but the only name that really matters in Macedonian wine. Tikveš includes Demir Kapija, where Popova Kula is, and Negotino but Kavadarci is the centre of the region. Nearing the town we found ourselves amid the sort of monoculture you encounter around Bordeaux or Beaune, but here the ranks of vines had an endearingly scruffy Macedonian look that just does not happen in regimented French vineyards.

Demir Kapija to Prilep and then on to Bitola

As the regional centre I expected Kavadarci to be an attractive small town, but actually it is ugly, industrial, rather down-at-heel and, at least to our cursory inspection, sadly lacking in charm.

We followed the almost empty main road across the rest of the Vardar Valley, up and over a range of pretty hills and into the valley beyond. The main business is, allegedly, the growing of tobacco, but unlike the vines in Tikveš, tobacco plants were hard to spot. I would like to believe the tobacco market is shrinking and the growers have turned their attention to less destructive crops, but that is probably wishful thinking, certainly Macedonians appeared to be the most enthusiastic smokers we have encountered for some time.

The crowded road towards Prilep

Prilep

Prilep

The centre of the industry is the town of Prilep which, with 66,000 inhabitants, is the fourth biggest city in Macedonia. Unlike Kavardaci, we could have by-passed Prilep, but we drove into town in search of coffee and whatever else it had to offer.

Whatever else turned out to be not a lot, but unlike Kavardarci, Prilep was making an effort. We parked near what we took to be the centre, close to one of those interesting fountains that repeatedly turn themselves off to entrap the unwary. The weather was not entirely sure what it wanted to do - we started walking down the main street in short sleeves, but then the sun ducked behind a cloud and the temperature plummeted so we returned to the car for pullovers. Properly equipped, we took our morning espresso at a pavement café.

Hazardous fountain, Prilep

The Čaršija and a Burnt Out Mosque

At end of the main street we found the čaršija, an area of narrow pedestrian streets with wrought iron balconies and a spaghetti of electric wiring….

Wrought iron balcony, Čaršija, Prilep

...Surrounding a fruit and vegetable market.

Prilep market

Beyond is a burnt out mosque. Macedonia achieved independence in 1991 without firing a shot, but in 2001 the Kosovo conflict spilt over into northern Macedonia with Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA) elements trying to inspire ethnic Albanian Macedonians - over 20% of the population - to fight for either a separate state, or for a 'greater Albania'. For six months until a UN brokered settlement there was a considerable fighting along the Kosovan border. On the 7th of August 2001, ten Macedonian soldiers, all from Prilep, were killed in a KLA ambush on the Skopje-Tetovo road . Protesting on the 8th became rioting and Prilep's 15th century mosque was burned down. None of Prilep's small Albanian communiuty had anything to do with the atrocity which happened 80km away. The failure of local and national authorities to sanction the rebuilding remains a bone of contention.

Burnt out mosque, Prilep

Opposite the mosque is an Ottoman clock tower. It does not lean as much as the tower in Pisa, but it's not exactly vertical either.

Not entirely vertical clock tower, Prilep

On the way back to the car we popped into a shop to equip ourselves with the wherewithal for a picnic: some bread, cheese, spicy salami, yogurt and chilled lemon tea.

Across the Pelagonian Plain

The fifty kilometres from Prilep to Bitola cross the Pelagonian Plain, land so flat the slightly raised roads between the fields stand out like unnaturally straight veins. We turned off the highway and took a side road arrowing towards a distant village to find somewhere for our picnic.

A place for a picnic, Pelagonian Plain

The plain stretches south into Greece while on the mountains to the west we could see streaks of snow hiding in shaded gullies. Bitola, Macedonia's second city (pop 105,000) is 15km from the Greek border.

The Pelagonian Plain

Bitola and Heraclea

Bitola

We drove south through Bitola, trying to follow the main road though I think we lost it for a while. Signposting was non-existent and at several junctions it was not easy to tell which was the main road. On the other hand it would be hard to get seriously lost, Bitola feels smaller than it is, a country town not a 'second city'.

We were looking for the ancient city of Heraclea at the southern end of Bitola. Eventually we encountered a signpost which directed us down a cobbled lane; a very low key entrance to one of Macedonia’s most important archaeological sites.

Roman Heraclea

Heraclea

Heraclea Lyncestis was founded by Philip II of Macedonia, Alexander the Great's father, in the 4th century BC when he incorporated this area into his kingdom. After the Roman conquest Heraclea's position on the Via Egnatia (which ran from the Adriatic through Albania and Macedonia to the Aegean at Thessalonika and then to Byzantium) maintained its prosperity. Under the Byzantine Empire it became an important bishopric, but the beginning of the end came when Theodoric and his Ostrogoths sacked the city in 472 and again in 479. The earthquake of 518 did not help and the last straw was the influx of Slavic tribes moving south. It was the same story we had heard at Stobi.

Heraclea

There are the usual palaces and basilicas, the latter with some of the finest Roman mosaics still in existence. It had not occurred to me before - though I suppose it should have done - that when palaces, basilicas and grand civic buildings stand either side of a roadway barely wide enough for two small carts to pass, then nobody ever has much of a view of the outside of the building, and this must have affected architects attitude to exteriors.

The basilica and its mosaics, Heraclea

The small part of the city that has been excavated is well presented, though the information boards tell you less than those at  Stobi.

The mosaics, Basilica, Heraclea

A three storey museum stands at one end of the site. Although they have retained too few artefacts to fill the bottom two storeys properly they do have some interesting sculptures - I felt I knew this chap, I think I played rugby with him in the 1970s.

Roman head, Heraclea
I think he used play alongside me in the front row for Warley RFC 1972-5(ish)

The top floor is largely empty, but the museum's real function is to provide something to look at as you climb the stairs to the theatre. The oldest artefact recovered from the site – though not in the museum here - is a theatre ticket, a bone token inscribed with a seat number. A cage for wild animals and an entrance for gladiators have been found but it seems the theatre dropped out of use in the late fourth century as Christianity brought an end to gladiator shows. By the time the Slavs arrived in the seventh century the theatre had declined to such an extent they built a couple of huts in it without realising what they were doing.

The Roman theatre, Heraclea

Bitola, The Modern City

From Heraclea we had a simple plan. Follow the main road back into town and where it swung right, keep straight on into Nikola Tesla, turn left into the next main street – Dimitar Ilievski-Murato - cross the pedestrianised Shirok Sokak and the Hotel Epinal would be on our left

Pedestrianized Shirok Sokak, Bitola

Despite our Google maps print-off lacking a scale and despite none of the street names being displayed, the plan worked perfectly - until right at the end. The Hotel Epinal is the tallest building in Bitola, but it is set back from the road and we drove straight past it. We then did a couple of circuits of the area beyond. Bitola may be Macedonia's second city, but it does not have city traffic systems. Going round in a circle does not involve turning left, left, left, roads run in random directions, some are one way, others should be but are not and others dwindle suddenly into impassable alleys. At traffic lights it is not always clear exactly which roads are part of the junction - no lane markings, or any other information are painted on the road. Not for the first time we remarked on the similarity between Macedonian town's and those of Portugal, though Portugal of the 1980s. Bitola's adaption to the motor car is minimal, but it matters little as there is not much traffic and my circuits were less stressful than I have made them sound.

Eventually we had to stop and ask. I hate asking, I am a man and thus naturally reluctant to admit to not knowing anything, so I sent Lynne into a bar to do it for me. I am glad I did, because the reply was a point and words which roughly translated to 'right there, you numpty'. The Hotel Epinal was a big building and we were less than fifty metres from it. This may say something about our stupidity or about Macedonian signing.

The city’s top hotel from the old regime, the Epinal has been extensively modernised and has a large and airy modern reception and lounge area, but for some reason the lift only descends as far as the first floor (for American readers ‘the elevator only descends as far as the second floor’). Someone, thankfully not me, had to haul our case up a long flight of stairs apparently designed more for the purpose of making an entrance rather than getting from one floor to another.

Staircase for making an entrance, Epinal Hotel, Bitola

Many countries kept consulates in Bitola when it was capital of the vast Ottoman province of Rumelia and it is still known as the 'City of Diplomats'. Pedestrianised Shirok Sokak (Wide Alley) is reputedly lined with elegant diplomatic buildings, but although it is a pleasant enough thoroughfare, it was not, I thought, particularly elegant. It is lined with cafés that spill onto the pavement, but that does not quite make Bitola the hip and happening place some locals might want you to think. However, I am not a hip and happening person so I thought they looked promising.

Lynne in Shirok Sokak, Bitola

The northern end of Shirok Sokak terminates in a square with two mosques, a clock tower and a statute of Philip II of Macedonia. This statue has not been renamed ‘Warrior on a Horse’, Philip was the founder of Heraclea and Bitola is that city’s direct descendant so he is here justifiably. Off the square the church of St Demetri did not look much from the outside, but inside is large enough to have three aisles and more icons than you can shake a stick at.

Philip II of Macedonia, Bitola

Later, as in Skopje, we found the cafés full of drinkers, but little sign that anyone was eating. Eventually we noticed one of the smallest and most basic was sending out plates of inviting looking scara (the grilled meats that Macedonians never tire of eating). A flattened out and grilled chicken breast for Lynne and a similarly treated piece of pork for me, a shared shopski salad (tomatoes and cucumber covered in a blizzard of grated cheese) and a couple of bottles of the excellent Skopsco beer came to around £10.

The River Dragor, Bitola

30/05/2105

The Čaršija

In the morning before setting off on our day's travels we walked to the end of Shirok Sokak, across Bitola's little River Dragor which rushes pleasantly beneath overhanging trees, and into the čaršija, the old Ottoman area where once the stalls of merchants in the same line of business huddled together in narrow streets.

Lynne and shoe shops, čaršija, Bitola

The narrow streets are still there, but only the shoemakers (or rather the shoe repairers and sellers) seem to have kept up the clustering tradition.

The Balkans

Bosnia and Herzogivina (May 2012)

Part 1 Sarajevo (1): The Old Town, The New Town and That Assassination
Part 2 Sarajevo (2): The Seige
Part 3 Mostar

Croatia (May 2012)

Part 4 Dubrovnik (1): Around the City Walls
Part 5 Korčula
Part 6 Dubrovnik (2): Inside the Walls

North Macedonia (May/June 2015)

Part 7 Flying into FYRoM
Part 8 Skopje
Part 9 The Matka Canyon and Stobi
Part 10 Prilep and Bitola
Part 11 The Mariovo and Lake Prespa
Part 12 Ohrid, the Heart of Slavic Macedonia
Part 13 Ohrid to Albania The East Coast of the Lake
Part 14 Struga and Ohrid Trout
Part 15 Debar and back to Skopje

The Matka Canyon and Stobi: Part 9 of The Balkans

An Artificial Lake, The Remains of a Roman City and the Popova Kula Winery

Through Saraj and Glumovo to the Matka Canyon

North Macedonia

A study of Google maps suggested it should not be too complicated leaving Skopje in the direction of the Matka Canyon, a scenic area west of the city. With no satnav we wrote our own instructions, followed them without difficulty to the edge of the city and correctly guessed the unsigned left turn to the small town of Saraj. It was by no means the only unsigned turning we would encounter.

Beyond Saraj the turning to the road that ascends the canyon was well marked, but only to those approaching from the west. As we arrived from the east we had to go far enough past it to realise we were wrong, turn and then find out on the way back.

We passed through the village of Glumovo. Pencil thin minarets are a feature of Balkan mosques, Glumovo mosque has a pair of them.

Glumovo Mosque

Intuition took us up the right road as the walls of rock closed about us. We parked where a couple of buses had disgorged a school party and followed them on foot. The road ran beside the River Treska, here channelled into a flume for canoe slalom races, though the water was low and smooth flowing. A couple of hundred metres later we could see the tall, narrow dam filling the gap between the rock walls – a source of white water whenever it is required.

The Matka Dam

Matka Canyon and Sveti Andreja

The road wound up to a car park where we could have parked if we had known about it. A footpath took us to the top of the dam where an information board in English and Macedonian informed us that it had been built in 1937 and that a fascist plot to blow it up during the Second World War was foiled by the Partisans. It has also survived several major storms and the 1963 earthquake. Above the dam we followed a footpath burrowed into the rock face, eventually catching up with the school party at a small hotel with a landing stage for boat trips.

Lake Matka

The teachers were valiantly holding their charges back, allowing them into the hotel in ones and twos to use the toilet as they waited, presumably for a boat trip. They moved aside to let us through as we headed for our morning espresso.

The small church beside the hotel turned out to be Sveti Andreja, which we had earlier identified as our destination for the morning. We were pleased with ourselves for finding it – and a little surprised by our success.

Sveti Andreja, Matka Canyon

When it was built in 1389 it must have been a remarkable sight, tucked on a rocky ledge in a steep canyon above a rushing river. Today it is at water level, a small building beside a larger hotel. The inside, though, remains magnificent, the walls covered in frescoes. A vigilant guardian made photography impossible, though, to be fair, he was helpful and friendly and gave us the brochure from which I have scanned what I think is the Birth of Christ. Its a lovely picture, whatever it is. Its so wrong it is not just right but nearly perfect. Sometimes I wonder if the invention/discovery of perspective actually spoiled painting.

Fresco of the Birth of Christ, Sveti Andreja, Matka Canyon

Finding Our Way to Stobi

Leaving Sveti Andreja we walked to the car, drove back through Saraj and found our way to the motorway which circles northern Skopje before turning south. Motorway driving in Macedonia is very easy, providing you keep awake. There is little traffic on most Macedonian roads but the motorways are largely empty, maybe the modest tolls put drivers off; it cost us a total of 180 denars ( £1.10) at four toll booths on the 100 kilometre journey between Saraj and the small town of Gradsko where we exited.

We had not intended visiting Gradsko, which is north of the turn off, as we were headed south to the remains of the Roman city of Stobi. The confusing signs, however, meant that we took an unintended trip down Gradsko’s one main street, lined with a few shops and cafés, and briefly out the other side to the huge Stobi Winery – very modern and definitely not a Roman ruin - before finding somewhere to turn round.

Skopje to Demir Kapija via the Matka Canyon and Stobi

Now going the right way, we drove down the old road running parallel to the motorway. After a while we saw a large Macedonian flag flying over what looked like an earthwork away to our right. Then we passed the derelict Stobi Restaurant and crossed the Crna River. ‘It should be by the river,’ Lynne told me. A mile our so later I turned round and we returned to the derelict restaurant and parked in its forecourt. A fence ran across the back with an open gate and a small sign staying ‘Stobi’. In the field behind a group of men were busy removing some felled trees. A man in uniform wandered over to have a look at us. ‘Stobi?’ we asked in our fluent Macedonian. He pointed across the field into the distance. 'Tickets,' he said, his English ever so slightly better than our Macedonian.

Theatre, Stobi

The Roman City of Stobi

Following a tough track across a meadow of wild flowers, we reached the Roman site, walked through it and on the far side found a car park and a souvenir shop selling tickets. We walked in. 'Have you come from the other side?' the girl asked as though we were apparitions at a séance. Only now could we see that the new entrance was beside a dedicated Stobi motorway exit not shown on our road map (the latest Freytag and Berndt edition that Amazon could sell). This new entrance had presumably killed off the old Stobi Restaurant. Our enquiry about a replacement café elicited a shake of the head, which was a shame as we had been relying on the Stobi café – praised in all the guidebooks - for lunch.

Episcopal Basilica, Stobi

Stobi turned out to be a well-organized and well-presented site. The city was probably founded in the 7th century BC by the Paeonian people, Paeonia being a kingdom that occupied the Vardar valley from the mountains north of Skopje to where the Greek border is now. In 217BCE Philip V of Macedonia annexed Paeonia and from then until the Romans arrived in 168BCE it was a Macedonian Greek city. Sitting astride the main Roman road from the Danube to the Aegean, at the confluence of the Crna and Vardar rivers and in the midst of a fertile plain, Stobi could not but prosper. By 69BCE was a ‘municipium’ and had its own mint. It became the capital of the Roman province of Macedonia Salutaris and its inhabitants had the status of Roman citizens.

Baptistry, Episcopal Basilica, Stobi

In 479 Theodoric the Ostrogoth paid a visit, which did the city no good at all. Stobi recovered but was severely damaged in the earthquake of 518. Next came Slavic tribes migrating from the north – the ancestors of the modern Republic of Macedonia’s citizens – and they were not interested in sophisticated city living. It was all over for Stobi until Serbian archaeologists arrived in the 1920s.

The House of Peristeria, Stobi

During its millennium of growth the same land wasine vitably built on over and over again. Unsurprisingly most of the buildings excavated have been from Stobi's later period as part of the Eastern Roman Empire. We started at the impressive amphitheatre and moved on to the episcopal basilica, obviously an important church with impressive mosaic floors and a baptistery. Streets, houses, baths and the city's central fountain could still be seen as well as the central basilica built over an earlier synagogue.

Lynne by the city fountain, Stobi

To Demir Kapija and the Popova Kula Winery

Leaving Stobi we rejoined the motorway and continued south to Demir Kapija, a small town where we were to stay at the Popova Kula Winery. Fortunately the winery, 800m from town along a road with occasional outbreaks of tarmac, was unusually well sign-posted. A Popova Kula (Priest's Tower) once overlooked Demir Kapija, and the winery has borrowed the name and built a new tower as their tasting room.

Popovo Kula Winery, Demir Kapija

The expanding modern winery is in the heart of the Tikveš wine region, which is the only region that really counts in Macedonia. A comfortable hotel has been attached to the winery and obviously a great deal of money has been invested. It was a shame only three rooms seemed to be occupied and the 70 seat restaurant fed five people while we were there, though a party of six arrived as we left. This was early season, so I hope trade picks up later.

Vineyard, Popova Kula Winery, Demir Kapija

Popova Kula Winery Tour

We were given a tour of the winery with its stainless steel fermentation vats and modern equipment. Building started in October 2004 and the winery was ready for its first harvest in 2005. They vinify eleven different grape varieties, some like Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay are well known, others like Vranec, Prokupec, Zilavka and Temjanika are unknown outside the Balkans, while Stanušina is unique to Macedonia. The best of the Vranec (the main red grape of the Balkans and a favourite of mine for its dark, smoky, richness), Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot are aged in new oak barrels.

Popova Kula Winry, Demir Kapija

Dinner at Popova Kula Winery

Having missed lunch we were ready for dinner and for once had a starter. After a glass of mastika, a local variation on ouzo, Lynne chose vine leaves wrapped around rice flavoured with herbs while I had a plate of cheese. Starting a meal with cheese may be a little at odds with our standard practice, but is not unusual in the Balkans. Slices of four local cheeses, all very different were tasted and enjoyed by both of us. Lynne had a chicken steak while I enjoyed pork steaks stuffed with prunes. We chose a bottle of Stanušina to go with it, partly because it is uniquely local and the winery takes particular pride in it, and partly because a light red was appropriate. Served chilled it was actually too light for my taste, though clean and supple. They also make Stanušina rosé and white. I thought it might make a perfect rosé, and we took some home to find out.

The reserve wines, Popova Kula Winery

Given the investment of time, care and money that goes into these wines, they are remarkably cheap, starting at around £3 and not rising much beyond, except for the reserve wines which were over £10. The mark up policy for the restaurant was pleasingly realistic making dining as easy on the wallet as it was on the palate.

The Balkans

Bosnia and Herzogivina (May 2012)

Part 1 Sarajevo (1): The Old Town, The New Town and That Assassination
Part 2 Sarajevo (2): The Seige
Part 3 Mostar

Croatia (May 2012)

Part 4 Dubrovnik (1): Around the City Walls
Part 5 Korčula
Part 6 Dubrovnik (2): Inside the Walls

North Macedonia (May/June 2015)

Part 7 Flying into FYRoM
Part 8 Skopje
Part 9 The Matka Canyon and Stobi
Part 10 Prilep and Bitola
Part 11 The Mariovo and Lake Prespa
Part 12 Ohrid, the Heart of Slavic Macedonia
Part 13 Ohrid to Albania The East Coast of the Lake
Part 14 Struga and Ohrid Trout
Part 15 Debar and back to Skopje