After finishing dinner, we arrived late at the bus station to catch our evening bus to Kosovo. As we wandered around the station, I realized I had no way to mail my postcards back to the States since the post office was closed. I managed to convince the bus station staff to take them, hoping they’d reach home and no one would think I’d forgotten them. Godspeed, little cards!
Our bus to Pristina was a bit older, similar to many we had encountered in the Balkans. -L- and I found seats at the back, surrounded by well-worn upholstery and the distinct scent of body odor, while an Albanian variety show played on the TVs. I wondered if sleep would be possible on this journey.
We settled in as the bus lurched out of the station, en route to Kosovo. Visiting Kosovo was high on our list, though our original plan was to head to Albania first for a shorter travel route. However, the complicated logistics of getting from Podgorica to Tirana led us to change our itinerary. Skipping Kosovo was not an option, even though it meant eliminating Serbia from our schedule due to the complex travel regulations between the two countries.
The bus ride was quiet as most passengers seemed to be resting. As the city lights faded, the darkness outside made the night seem endless. Restless and perhaps a bit anxious about our destination, I couldn’t sleep, distracted by the catchy Albanian tunes on the TV.
As we approached the border, the guards took our passports, and only ours, likely because we were the only non-Albanians or Kosovars on the bus. I felt uneasy handing over my passport, but soon it was returned with a new Kosovo stamp. We continued through the wooded mountains, occasionally spotting signs warning of unexploded ordnance—definitely a reminder that we were far from the usual European destinations.
We arrived at the bus station around 4:30 AM, and as others reunited with family or caught rides home, we were left in a nearly deserted terminal. Unsure of our bearings, we hoped to find a taxi that could take us to a hotel listed in our guidebook.
Driving through the quiet streets of Pristina, we navigated to where we thought our chosen hotel would be, only to find an empty space. Undeterred, we picked another hotel from the book and tried again. This time, the hotel existed and looked promising.
In our haste, we hadn’t negotiated a taxi fare beforehand and faced a bit of a language barrier, but the driver turned out to be honest. -L- handed him a 50-euro note, which was too much, so we settled on 5 euros—a pleasant surprise given the late hour and our tiredness.
The hotel had a room ready despite the early hour and only charged us for one night. With a clean, modern room and free Wi-Fi, we finally had a chance to relax.
Welcome to Kosovo!
