What a surprise when I realised who he was .
Without being able to say a word , he looked at me and said , “ Yes , it ' s me .”
It was Mario Andretti , the famous Formula 1 car racer who was born in Morovun !
I headed towards Sarajevo the next morning where I spent two nights . I toured the city and became emotionally involved with its tragedy . It was very strange to walk that city , that day , which was empty and occupied by the police , with closed streets and diverted traffic . I didn ’ t understand the reason for such a display of force . The reason was that the first LGBTI march was scheduled for that day and in that country , there is a strong rejection , the authorities feared there would be clashes . I walked through Viliki Park , the Yellow Fortress and stopped in the Museum of Genocide and crimes against humanity . Creepy !
From there I headed to Pristina , Kosovo ( 429 kms ), where I spent two days gawking at the Kosovan women who , for me , are among the most beautiful in the world . I visited the national library of Kosovo , a building designed by architect Andrija Muntjakovic between 1971 and 1982 . I was told that it received the award as the ugliest building in the world ...
My Kosovan friend Shkelzen invited me to watch a soccer match between the English team and Kosovo in a bar ; the first goal was scored by Kosovo and the bar exploded , I shouted along as if it was my own team . Shkelzen made me promise to come back . I will as soon as this damned virus allows me to continue my journey around the world on La Más .
I was heading to Istanbul to the house of my Turkish brother Ugur , and on his recommendation I stopped in Tetovo , North Macedonia ( 130 kms ) where on the road , I met a goat herder who invite me to drink goat milk . It was delicious .
In the city , I visited the wonderful Arabati Baba Teke , the incredible Painted Mosque and the Turbe , ( tomb ) from Otoman origin , closes to the Mosque .
Then I continued to Nea Karvali , Greece where I stayed overnight . La Más rested on the street in front of the hotel where I was the only guest . Early in the morning and after I finished loading the bike , I headed towards the border of Turkey to cross it at the Ipsala border post ( 187 kms ).
When I left Turkey a year ago at the beginning of the summer , with the idea of reaching the fjords of Norway , I had to pay a fine at that border crossing point for having exceeded the total number of days the bike was allowed to stay , at least that was the argument of the Turkish customs . But that was not exact because I had left the bike in the
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