Kosovo welcomed me with wind, bureaucracy, and chaos — and a quiet ending to one incredible chapter. Some borders exist only in our minds.
No Stamps, Just Contrasts – My Ride Through Kosovo
Day 36: Start in Skopje, Finish at Pristina. Morning surprise in Skopje — I discovered I had slept just a few steps away from the presidential palace, where a Slovak delegation had been visiting. The flags were still waving, but someone was already taking them down. Maybe they knew I was leaving.
3,000 Kilometers. And No Stamp.
At the Kosovo border, I celebrated two milestones. 3,000 kilometers on my odometer and no stamp in my passport. That wasn’t a mistake — it was a strategy.
If I’d gotten one, the Serbian border guards would have treated it as an illegal entry. So yes, I became a kind of secret agent on a bike, sneaking across borders without leaving a trace.
Kosovo – a Country of Contradictions
After just a few kilometers, the change was obvious. Luxury cars drive past crumbling houses, banks advertise next to car repair shops, and every second building seems to be a scrapyard. Kosovo feels like a teenager — full of dreams, energy, and chaos.
Still, it rides surprisingly well. Ninety kilometers mostly uphill, but it went easier than I expected. On the horizon — Pristina. And who else? Ursula von der Leyen. Either I’m heading the right way, or I’m being followed.
But borders have their own sense of humor. When I tried to continue further, I didn’t get through. Not yet.
So I took the bus back to Pristina — for €1.50, bike included. Even the road backward can still be part of the journey.
The End That Isn’t the End
Day 37: Route: Pristina (bus) – Skopje (flight) – Home
From the Caucasus to the Balkans. From Tbilisi to Kosovo.
3,100 kilometers, five countries, a thousand stories.
But every road has a point where it’s no longer about joy — it’s about endurance. At the Serbian border, I reached that point. There was no way forward.
Two options:
- Turn back through North Macedonia, then ride across Albania, Montenegro, and Bosnia – the most beautiful, but toughest route for november.
- Try Serbia – the shortest, but impossible.
And then came the sign. Or rather, a flat tire. As I pulled the bike off the bus in Pristina, the rear wheel was completely flat. I just stood there and laughed — not the happy kind of laugh, but the one that accepts.
Decision made: I’m flying home.
Not as a quitter, but as someone who’s learned the difference between a goal and a purpose. The journey might be over, but the story isn’t.
Epilogue
This isn’t how I planned to end it. But maybe that’s exactly why it feels right. Some endings aren’t failures — they’re quiet thank-yous to the road for what it gave us.
From the Caucasus to the Tatras — no filters, no plans, just a man, a bike, and the wind against him.
Thanks to everyone who followed along. The road will call again — it always does.
Hidden Facts: Kosovo
🕊️ The Invisible Border – Old customs officers on the Kosovo frontier say they don’t look at passports, only at eyes. “If your conscience is clear, you may pass,” they claim.
🏚️ The City of Ghosts – Around Pristina stand half-finished buildings from the Yugoslav war era. Locals whisper that at night you can hear the voices of workers who never returned.
🚴 The Road With No Name – The stretch between Skopje and Pristina town is called by locals “The Road of Returns.” Everyone who rides it, they say, closes a chapter in themselves.
💡 Ironic Fact – Kosovo reportedly has the highest number of car washes per capita in Europe. And almost no cycling paths. Clean cars, dirty roads.
