Consolation Peanuts and Terrifying Pickles -- Skopje, Macedonia

Firstly.

Our hosts in Skopje were generous and welcoming.

Secondly.

They've effectively protested their living situation by sharing pictures of their rooms on facebook. The dormitory will be renovated next year.

Thirdly.

Here are our photos.

See that hole in the ground? That's where your shower water goes. 

Notice how the shower head is in the toilet cistern? This is because the shower head leaks and the cistern doesn't fill. 

I'm not exactly sure why they have mops and brooms. They don't appear to be used very often. 

Elevators. They work sometimes. 

With couchsurfing, sometimes you sleep on yachts and fly in private planes. Sometimes you spend two days here. 

With light switches that look like they could kill you. 

Coffee that looks like it's developing its own ecosystem. 

And pickles that look like they could leap out of their jar, grow arms and strangle you in the night. 

A very relaxing reading light next to wallpaper made from cheerful, "I love you" wrapping paper. 

This could be an excellent hallway for a haunted house. 

I haven't seen anyone look so forlorn about brushing her teeth since I was told to brush my own teeth as a four year old who still had the taste of a candy bar in her mouth. 

We tried hitching out of Skopje this morning.

We took the bus out of town.

Got terribly lost on the spaghetti roads surrounding the city.

This. This is HELL for hitchhikers. 

Ended up wandering around in the heat for three hours.

With no money and no idea where the bus stations were located.

A friendly biker gave us a bottle of water and warned us about Albanians.

Unfriendly folks in the bad part of town directed us in the wrong direction. Multiple times.

"What do you want to do?" Tessa asked.

I wanted to cry.

"I'm going to sit down."

I hugged my elephant.

Sometimes this is what we get. 

Two men approached.

"Do you speak English?"

"A little bit."

"Is there a bus to Kumanovo from here?"

"No, you must take the bus to the train station in Skopje."

"Okay."

"We're going there now. Would you like to come with us?"

"Yes."

As we'd spent the last of our local currency on breakfast, the two warmhearted gentlemen bought our tickets.

They rode with us to the train station.

Helped us buy our bus tickets to Sofia.

Even invited us to their father's house for a rest and some lunch.

Both Tessa and I were a little exhausted of constantly being in someone else's hospitality though, so we politely declined and chose to sit in a cafe.

Where we are now.

Our bus leaves at 15:00.

It arrives in Sofia at 20:00.

Our next host will meet us at the metro station near his home.

Home.

I hope this includes a working shower and less mold.

Hitchhiking. Like couchsurfing. Sometimes it's the most incredibly beautiful, exciting way to get to a new place and sometimes it just makes you want to curl up into a small ball and wish a tornado would pick you up and drop you off in Oz somewhere. Far away from terrifying pickles and disgruntle Maccedonians. 

This is what happens to hitchhikers who have to get the bus. Consolation peanuts and chocolate. 

For us, hitchhiking is like wild camping. When it's fun -- when it's an adventure -- when we want to do it, we'll do it.

Today?

It was more of an ordeal and less of an adventure.

So we're taking the bus.

Perhaps we'll hitchhike from Sofia to Bucharest.

But we'll see.