Kosovo - the unknown Balkans
Kosovo is strange. Full stop. 10 years of statehood, 2 million people. An artificially created country where I would have expected the European Union to be pumping in cash. I did not see any of that cash. A country that is home to the greatest treasures of the Serbian Orthodox Church. There are few Serbs left; Muslim Albanians predominate. The most important monuments are guarded by soldiers of the international KFOR force.
From Montenegro to Kosovo: the border and insurance
In August 2017 I was in Montenegro, which makes a good base for a quick trip to Kosovo. Heading north-east from Podgorica and passing Berane, you reach Rožaje, the last sizeable town in Montenegro. It has good facilities, including a petrol station and a VOLI supermarket. Passing a large new mosque on a hill on the outskirts, I head for the border crossing. Leaving Montenegro is straightforward: we had already arranged with the car hire company for permission to take the car out of the country, for 42 EUR, in the form of a red stamp in the documents of our Hertz car.
There is no one ahead of us, so we set off towards the sizeable town of Peć, or Peja as the Albanians prefer to call it (on the way back we will stock up on a 1.5-litre bottle of Peja beer). What is surprising is that the Kosovan border post stands a good few kilometres beyond the Montenegrin one. There we get a small surprise: our passports are fine, but the car documents lack the special third-party insurance valid in Kosovo. Although we are allowed to drive across to the Kosovan side, after parking the car I have to walk back to a small booth where you can quickly buy the extra cover. The man there, who speaks good English, apologises that the shortest period of insurance is a whole 2 weeks. Oh well, I pay 15 EUR and we can go. In Kosovo, as in Montenegro, you pay in euros.
A picturesque mountain road takes us down from the pass in a series of hairpin bends. The country looks normal: sheep, houses, fruit stalls, the odd billboard. At the first major junction we are reminded that national feuds are still very much alive. On the bilingual road signs, the Serbian names have been blacked out with spray paint, leaving only the Albanian. We head for Peja.
What strikes you as you approach the more built-up areas is the abundant evidence of local enterprise: a little shop here, a small café there, cars dashing off in every direction on business.
Are people investing what they earn abroad? Or are these laundries for dirty money? There are more petrol stations than anyone could need (petrol is cheaper than in Montenegro: at 1.06 EUR a litre you save 16 cents on every litre). Every so often we pass large wedding halls.
The Patriarchate of Peć - a monastery full of frescoes
On this day trip I want to visit two monasteries, the first being the Patriarchate of Peć. The local policeman guarding the place of worship suggests we drive into the inner car park behind a heavy barrier, which he will only open once we have handed over our passports. The security is designed to repel a possible attack and to put down riots. The round gun ports in two armoured steel booths guarding the monastery make a chilling impression.
Admission costs 2 EUR, and it is money well spent. From the front, the monastery catches the eye with its intense burgundy colour. Its modest size gives no hint of how astonishing it is inside. The interior is curiously arranged, because several successive rulers added their own chapels, linked by a shared, spacious narthex. Walking through it, we pass in turn the entrances to three separate churches on the right-hand side.
The interiors of all the rooms, from the floor up through the walls and arches to the domes, are decorated with exquisite frescoes. Their colours have survived, and it is hard to believe they were painted in the 13th and 14th centuries.
The grounds around the church are quite extensive; the foundations of other buildings in the centre are surrounded by ancient trees. A dry fountain, nuns going about their business, flower beds and a stone wall make the place genuinely appealing, both as a UNESCO-listed site and as a witness to the troubled history of the Balkans.
Visoki Dečani Monastery under KFOR protection
A dozen or so kilometres south of Peja, on the edge of the town of Dečani, stands the Visoki Dečani monastery. Here the security is tighter. While the first monastery was left in the care of a single officer, here we find regular troops. Soldiers of the stabilisation force from Italy and Germany have their own building right next to the monastery gate. To get there you have to zigzag past concrete barriers and a tall KFOR watchtower.
The now familiar routine of leaving our passports as a deposit, and we can go inside. Admission is free. From the outside, this monastery may come as… a disappointment. It simply does not look its age. It is built of pale marble, which has stood up remarkably well to centuries of exposure to the elements.
Only on closer inspection do you notice that here and there the sculptures decorating the front wall are missing pieces. Although by now we are used to the sight of dazzling frescoes, we once again stand and contemplate the decoration of the interior. It is lofty and, unlike the first monastery, flooded with light.
I wonder which way Kosovo will go. Will it gradually align itself with Western Europe? After all, it already shares the common currency. Or will it turn towards Albania, given how close its people are? Or perhaps, through some unlikely turn of events, it will draw closer to Serbia, which has never come to terms with the loss of this enclave. For now, remember that Kosovan stamps in your passport are frowned upon in Serbia and may stop you entering the country.
If you are interested in other Balkan countries, read about Slovenia and Bosnia and Herzegovina as well.
