Well, here I am back in North Macedonia, hunkered down in the little village of Leunovo in the depths of Mavrovo National Park. I arrived here two weeks ago after a pleasantly booze-fuelled migration north from Tilos in Greece’s southern Dodecanese, hurried on, as I invariably am in these flights, by the knowledge that I would shortly become persona non grata in Europe’s wide-ranging – and, for travellers like me, exceedingly inconvenient – Schengen Zone. In short, my ninety days in that entity were almost up.
Not that I have any news. I’m in North Macedonia, in a tiny village in Mavrovo National Park called Leunovo. I don’t, offhand, have a photo of Leunovo or of the park, so I’ve posted a pic of the Church of St John at Ohrid, which is at least in the same country, although quite a distance from here.
Apart from that all is well. I’m staying sober and working steadily at my editing. Not ideal, but it pays the bills. Sort of. I also have some lovely clients. Most afternoons I go for a walk up the hill behind the village, which is covered in a dense forest of beech. It would be beautiful, except currently it’s full of flies and the forest, despite being in a national park, is being extensively logged. To make matters worse, the loggers, a rough, uneducated bunch, leave rubbish wherever they go.
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