Trail Of The Unexpected
Forget today's England match, the real interest in Macedonia lies away from the pitch
Saturday, 6 September 2003
If only the England v Macedonia match had been scheduled a week earlier. England's footballers and fans might have been tempted to turn their backs on Skopje's uninspiring architecture and participate in the annual swimming race (30km of strained sinew) across Lake Ohrid, one of the oldest lakes in Europe.
If only the England v Macedonia match had been scheduled a week earlier. England's footballers and fans might have been tempted to turn their backs on Skopje's uninspiring architecture and participate in the annual swimming race (30km of strained sinew) across Lake Ohrid, one of the oldest lakes in Europe.
Almost flattened by a deadly earthquake in 1963, the restored Macedonian capital is not a particularly attractive city, and its residents know this better than most. On Friday evenings, the road south-west is packed as cars head to Lake Ohrid, at 294m the deepest lake in the Balkans, and the country's main tourist destination.
It's easy to see why they come: this beautiful lake is surrounded by mountains, but wide enough not to feel claustrophobic. Shared by Macedonia and Albania, one-third of its surface lies in Albanian territory. Miles of vineyards make this one of Macedonia's prime wine-producing regions, and numerous Byzantine churches and monasteries have stood here for centuries.
In early September, the hot Balkan summer gives way to orange-tinted autumn, and the main lakeside resort, also called Ohrid, has the out-of-season calm that promises peaceful exploration. Today's town has grown around an ancient settlement, and historic and religious monuments line the cobbled streets. The oldest is the Roman amphitheatre: ringed with trees by the medieval Upper Gate, it has been restored and is regularly used for concerts. Other relics of that era are displayed in the Archeological Museum.
According to local folklore, this small town, once the centre of the Macedonian Orthodox community, had a church for every day of the year. Whatever the truth in that tale, countless places of worship were built before the Balkans fell to the Ottoman empire in 1389, and are now the area's chief man-made attractions. Their frescoes illustrated Bible stories and church history for the illiterate, and leading icon painters were drawn here to practice their art. St Kliment's, named after the bishop who founded the first Slavic university in the town, has moving examples of both art forms. So too does St Sofia's, a large church with splendid acoustics that served as a mosque, then a storehouse, before being restored to Orthodox worship in 1912. The frescoes were covered in plaster during the Turkish occupation, which inadvertently preserved their vivid colours.
Down by the harbour, small boats are available for hire. A long promenade runs along the water's edge, a focus for social life; beyond it, swans and Ohrid's distinctive blue-and-green fishing-boats move among the reeds.
Ohrid's largest monument is Tsar Samuel's fortress: its towers and high walls have dominated the town for 10 centuries. The walls are lit up at night: seen from the promenade below, they are hauntingly beautiful.
From the citadel, it is an easy walk to the 13th-century St Jovan Bogoslov Kaneo (St John the Theologian), a wonderfully picturesque church on a promontory jutting into the lake. Its walls and roof (a mixture of Byzantine and Armenian styles) were a dull orange against the pale blue water behind. Unfortunately, the church is opened only for special services, so we circled the exterior then moved to the cliff-edge.
The coniferous woods behind St Jovan's hide a path to St Panteleimon, site of the town's first church. Restoration work was drawing to a close, and the old and new stonework could be clearly distinguished. Along one side, columns and other Roman artefacts have been collected. Inside, St Kliment's remains are buried, making this a place of pilgrimage. Remarkably well-preserved mosaics had only recently been uncovered outside, decorated with rich figurative motifs: eels (the European eel migrates here from the Sargasso Sea), doves, crosses and swastikas, a reminder that this ancient sign, now associated with evil, once had different connotations.
Religious monuments have also been preserved at other spots around the lake: examples include the cave churches in Kalista and Radozda, and the ruins of a 6th-century basilica in Oktsi, where horses and flowers are still discernable on floor mosaics. North of Ohrid, the small town of Struga is not so tourist-oriented, and consequently less deserted out of season. The Drin flows out of the lake here, before winding its way through Albania to the Adriatic.
Past fishermen's villages at the southern end of the lake, the 17th-century chapel of St Naum stands a couple of miles from the Albanian border. Set inside a small complex, the church and adjacent monastery have been drawing the faithful for centuries.
On the path to the church gate, a few stalls were selling white Ohrid "pearls", made from pressed fish scales; inside, a couple of peacocks strutted around the grounds. The church door was locked when we arrived, so we peeked through the keyhole at floor-to-ceiling frescoes, faded but still powerful, softly lit by a glowing chandelier. A black-robed monk opened up, then manned a kiosk selling candles, postcards and bottles of rakija, a grape spirit. When we emerged, he proffered samples of the latter, and purchases were guaranteed. That evening, it helped to wash down local trout, served with ayvar, a red pepper paste popular throughout the Balkans.

