Eldonita: 24.07.2023
20.07.23
Today, I drive about 80km north from the south of the country to the capital, Pristina. The city has about 200,000 inhabitants and is considered a very young and dynamic city. The country itself also has the youngest population in Europe. The city is the focal point of the country and therefore also its cultural, economic, and political center.
At noon, I reach the city, which suddenly appears out of nowhere in front of me. There is a lot of open nature around it and, in my impression, very little civilization.
However, I quickly realize that the city is extremely lively and popular, already noticing it at the first roundabout. In addition to the high traffic volume, I also notice the many Swiss and German license plates on the cars again. It seems to be peak season and people are using their vacation time to return to their homeland, visit family and friends.
At first, I catch this vibe. It is exciting to suddenly be part of this way of life, part of this bubble.
But this feeling of excitement does not last very long, as finding a parking space turns out to be anything but easy. On the one hand, there are very few entries on Park4Night, and on the other hand, the city is simply full of cars. Bürsti has simply grown too big..
I would have preferred to leave the city immediately. But I already had a tattoo appointment for the next day.
To counteract the strongly declining mood, I stopped at the next supermarket. Cold lemon soda and a few cookies have proven to be useful in such situations. Most of the time.
Once again, I am approached outside in the parking lot. 'German?' 'Yes!' 'Ahhhhh, how are you my friend? Everything okay? Yes, no, thank you.'
Nice guy. Funny conversation in German and English. He asks if he can look at my motorhome. Of course.
For most people, this is already something special and unfamiliar, that people like me are traveling through Europe in this way and alone. The reactions are usually very positive despite a little lack of understanding. For some, this is probably a bit strange and although I am now familiar with these situations, I sometimes also feel a bit strange. I already feel like I stand out even more here than in some regions in Albania. So far, I have only seen one other motorhome.
Anyway. Actually, this is often exactly what makes a journey exciting and thrilling. These encounters trigger something in me, occupy me sustainably, and usually leave a lasting impression.
In this case, the helpfulness of the man saved my day. He asked if I needed a parking space and offered me to use the one near his café. Perfect. He drove ahead, I followed. An ideal parking space, with some shade, next to a park, about 3km from the city center.
Directly adjacent to the parking space, a small shady café invites you to linger. My new regular café.
Before I plunge back into the hustle and bustle of the capital, I enjoy the peace and the bearable temperature under the trees for a while.
My first stop in the center was supposed to be a second-hand shop. Who needs culture when there is the opportunity to rummage through musty piles of clothes, in search of a fancy vintage piece that only has a place in one of my overcrowded closets if I lose one of my t-shirts at a festival like last week?
Vintage & Art is the name of the store and to my disappointment, I had to realize that the selection for men was very limited. As a consolation, I convinced myself that I could use another pair of sunglasses.
I cycled aimlessly through the area a little bit, just to have seen a bit of Pristina. In the end, it's just a city that actually has a young, lively character. But for me, it was almost a bit too lively, which is why I returned to my base quite soon.
Shade and peace and maybe a cup of coffee, that's actually all I wanted.
By chance, I saw on Maps that a large outdoor pool surrounded by a forest was only 2km away from me.
Shade + water is somehow better than just shade.
So off to the swimming pool. Good decision. Far away from the flashy SUVs and other hot rides, it's quite pleasant to be here.