Part of the mainroad into this nation is actually cobbled! It makes a pleasant change from the earlier potholed stretch. At one point we run by an overgrown factory, foliuage fringing its rooftops, its rusty corrugated iron sides and gateways are firm and woodern like weather beaten sundried cardboard, eerily crisp and breakable. In a town a couple wait with cigarrettes and shopping bags by the road to cross, in front of them the road has gathered into loose folds like skin where detritus has gathered. People look grey.
A man on a scooter marks a change from the very old automobiles that are visible everywhere, Yugo, Opel, Zastava and Lada.
A wealthier part comes, newer white plastered houses... sorry, am so tired, will finish writing this tomorrow (smiley face thingy), ciao for now.
ah! the Lada! A relic from the days of the infamous Soviet Union!
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