Well, the original plan was that my friends from Macedonia would come to Tirana and pick me up. I then got an email that things had gone a bit belly up in Macedonia and could I catch the bus instead. (Come over to Macedonia and help us and could you take the bus!) It would leave Tirana at 9.00pm and drop me in Skopje in Macedonia at 4.00am! I was preaching later that day but they reckoned that if I got to bed by about 5.00am I could get a few hours sleep!
After some discussion I arranged a lift from Tirana to the Macedonian border on the understanding that someone would pick me up. Our translator who speaks both Albanian and Macedonian, made the arrangements. (That is significant!)
So on Sunday after church I left the guys to the airport and started the three hour journey by car over the mountains to the Macedonian border.
Some beautiful countryside but as we climbed higher it got decidedly colder and then we found ourselves among the clouds and barely able to see in front of us.
The road became increasingly narrow and winding and in some places pretty steep with no crash barriers and big drops on one side but my Albanian driver seemed to take it in his stride.

Eventually we reached the Macedonian border where I was to be met by someone. At that point I wondered whether I needed a visa! (A little late in the day to be thinking about that) But I also realised as I handed over my passport that I didn't know the language, where I was staying in Macedonia or who was meeting me. I had no Macedonian currency and my cell phone didn't work! I just hoped that I didn't need to pay to enter Macedonia as was the case in Albania and that the grim looking guy in Passport Control didn't ask me any questions. However thank God he didn't, and I passed through pulling my suitcase behind me! I then realised that I was only out of Albania, and after walking the 50 yards or so of no man's land I had to get through passport control in Macedonia! Same problem, would he require money, or information because I had neither!
However the old British Passport worked its magic again and he stamped it and let me through. So trailing my suitcase I walked through into Macedonia where I was due to be picked up. The only problem was that there was nobody there!

It's shortly after 4.00pm and starting to get dusk. I'm about 3000 feet up in the mountains in November and its cold. The only thing passing me are large articulated lorries roaring down the mountain. I'm beginning to wonder what I ought to do. That's easy, there's nothing I can do. After 15 minutes pass I begin to wonder if I'm at the right border crossing because presumably there are several. Occasionally car lights come up the hill but they turn off or go past.
In the dark I open my case and put on a waterproof coat. Half an hour has gone and nobody is coming to pick me up! I'm on a mountain in a country where I don't speak (or even recognise) the language. I have no money nor any address as to where I am staying as the arrangements had been made by the translator. (Of course I hadn't bothered to get the details off him, don't be stupid!)
By this time three quarters of an hour had gone and I was beginning to think I would die on this mountain pass. I then remembered that I had a cellphone number of a guy in Macedonia and he might be the one who was coming for me (I hope!)
I opened the case again and got out a sheaf of papers and emails I had with me and found his number. Of course I had forgotten the phone didn't work! I thought I might try texting him. So I texted, "I am at the border crossing" and I got the message, "Message sent". Nothing!
Then the phone beeped and I opened the text. "So am I. Which side are you on"
I texted back "Macedonia" He texted "I'm waiting for you on the Albanian side. I'm in a red car. I'll come for you now." We had somehow passed each other and had been waiting for each other for 45 minutes on opposite sides of the border! He was with me in about 5 minutes and as I got into the car he says, "We're late, you're preaching in a church two hours away and the service starts in an hour and a half!" That was the first I had heard of it but we were off flying low through Macedonia to a small town called Bitola.

Found the church, (about 20 people and they had waited for us) and we sang a few songs in Macedonian and then I was on with an interpreter for a half hour preach! When church was over I was informed that we had a 3 hour drive ahead of us to Skopje. Of course it was dark and late and there were no shops or restaurants open so there was no chance of getting anything to eat. I had last eaten at about 12.30 and by the time we got to where I was staying, (a room in the church) it was about 11.30. Although I was starving I was even more exhausted and collapsed into the settee bed and fell fast asleep!