Sunday Fundays

Sunday Fundays

After falling victim to the ever increasing spread of the Kosovan cold, A.K.A the Prishtina man flu, Friday and Saturday were a social write off.  After managing to stick to my will to avoid a massive Friday night by refusing to be persuaded by a barrage of texts and calls at 2am by Bastian, then deciding to not join Arita and friends at Depot on Saturday night it left Sunday as the day to reclaim a somewhat lost weekend. 

After waking up to a surprisingly sunny Prishtina late Sunday morning, cooking a breakfast that wanted to be fit for kings I then sent the message round that I had recovered mostly from PMS (Prishtina Man Flu) and headed into town.  First stop was Churchill’s; a pub/house that lived up to its name with numerous memorabilia, pictures etc of Winston.

It seems that Sunday has recently been filled up with some drinks and pool on the reg.  However this Sunday would see me become initiated in my first Sunday Funday, aptly named by the Hero of the tail end of weekends, Mr Steve “the gator” Lindsey; a fine gentlemen from New Orleans, Louisiana.

After an eventful group dinner where much banter was shared, Sunday Funday was in full motion.  We (Gator, Gerry and Frency) headed back to Steve’s to continue Kosovo’s best weekend event.  After plenty more banter and even more ghetto talk we headed to Tak’s place to watch the NFL.  After a few more drinks it was time to leave.  Sunday Funday was over, well until next weekend.

Got soaked walking from the cab to the flat, woke up this morning with no running water, showered with bottles.  Not sure if electricity is working when I return from the office. 

Welcome to Kosovo.

Rubbing Shoulders

Everywhere you look in Prishtina there's diplomats, UN personnel, young entrepreneurs, models (well they should be) and oh yeah I forgot to mention, DIPLOMATS! All joking aside, it's an amazing city when it comes to meeting some interesting characters.

So the weekend came around again and I started the Saturday off with watching a bit of the Man U game, some SA Rugby and more importantly the Ryder Cup.  Casual drinking and eating some decent pub grub all afternoon with Declan and his was the calm before a more interesting/top brass experience later on.  So Chris and Steve joined at around 10pm, C&S on the tequila's and B52's in Paddy O'Brians.  After Johnny Cash started on the speakers a change of pace and thus scenery was needed.  We headed to a bar/shack round the corner and were immediately met with a completely different scene.  Perched next a group of run of the mill attractive women of Prishtina celebrating someone's birthday we had the view and more importantly we had the music; house and electro coming from everywhere supplemented by the standard MTV on a flat screen on mute.

So I order a couple of beers, a few more drinks, go next door to grab a water, rehydrate, public urinated then back in to pay the bill.  Well that's what I thought I would be doing until C turns round as says, "no need mate, out with one of our clients and his mate, all expenses covered for tonight."  It turns out that all expenses meant walking into anywhere we wanted, having a "reserved" seat at every place and not having to cloak anything; the bouncer closely guarded my bag.

Peppermint was next on the agenda, underground off the Mother Teresa Boulevard and looks wise pretty reminiscent of a mid-market London club.  The real surprise came when the bartender plonked a bucket of Ice and a bottle of Remy Martin cognac in front of us.  Result.

After Peppermint came Depot, same stories on the entry and "prices" but this time, a few vodders down and raring to go, Prishtina was ready for some dance moves of pure tekkers.  Actually...well... it seemed not so.  Fairly disappointed with the lack of local creativity on the dance floor we headed back to our area to be pleasantly met by a girl sounding like she lives in the Sugar Hut (Slut for short).  Even more surprising was the fact that she was born and raised in Prishtina and was Albanian Kosovan!  Although she had lived in Essex for 11 years.

Boom, club DONE (said in a Gordon Ramsey fashion) and time for a taxi home stopping on route at a quality little pizzeria for an early breakfast.  Back in the cab, munching away and being entertained by the Albanian Danny Dyer and his Mercedes A class.  Back indoors at 4am.

Next day = mong/fester/steak sandwich and MOTD.

Another weekend in Prishtina completed, lets hope this one throws a few characters along the way, I'm sure the city wont dissapoint!

Inaugural Weekend

By the weekend I had already been introduced to nearly all but 2 members of the team at the British Council and become familiarised with surroundings and the way to walk to work, but the more important question was still to be answered.  What was Prishtina like on the weekend?  After hearing some great reviews about the after dark activities from a few friends who had been to the city weeks previous to my arrival, I was pleased to know that these reviews lived up to expectations.  The only immediate downside was the new developments within the municipality of the police closing down bars that stayed open after midnight.  I managed to arrive just in time to witness the attempts to dumb down Prishtina’s late night café and bar culture, lucky me.

However all was not lost as I managed after many wrong turns to eventually find the famous Paddy O’Brian’s Irish Pub that nearly every taxi driver, person at work and Jeton (my landlord) had told me to check out.  To be honest any recommendation to check out an Irish Pub outside of the UK (or maybe Boston) should always be taken with a certain apprehension towards “authenticity” and the price of alcohol.  Yes I am talking about you Oscar Wilde Pub at Oranienburger Strasse, Berlin.  From the outside the place reminded me a little of a Jonas brother (or all of them) at a brothel; out of touch with its surroundings.  However inside the atmosphere was what you would expect in any good drinking establishment back home:  Plenty of people, decent music, shed loads of football, rugby or cricket on the flat screens and some decent local beers to sample.  I opted for the locally brewed Peja at a modest price of €2 a pint.

Seeing that I was exploring Prishtina on my Jack Jones I started talking to a couple of guys working for Eulex.  Christian and James were to prove my first English speaking contacts outside of the Council.  Christian a Swiss guy living in Buckhurst Hills immediately started on a topic we all knew something about.  Who burnt down the Queen Vic?  After discussing the plight of Phil Mitchell and the departure of Peggy from the square, naturally we got onto talking about Grant and how he decided to take down the Taliban.  James confirmed what we all expected that he was a nice guy after he met him in Afghanistan on his last position overseas with the FCO.  Beers were flowing an who could complain at €2 a pop.  After exchanging cards and contact details I spoke to a few more people before heading out onto Mother Teresa Boulevard in the attempt to find places dodging the presence of the authorities and their attempts to curb fun.

After meeting some American professors and lecturers we headed to, well I can’t remember as the Peja was starting to take its toll.  Got inside, half full, The Beatles in the backgorund and drinks started flooding the table from all directions.  This time I took a…yes you’ve probably guessed it… another Peja

Prishtina - Day one.

I remember when last year I woke up one day and decided, much on a whim, that I was moving to Berlin regardless.  After hours of fantasising about living in the German capital I managed to find an MA in British Studies at Humboldt University.  So what is a British student doing in Berlin studying British Studies?  Well I was asking the same question and trying to answer it, often failing.  So when I got on a plane heading towards Prishtina, Kosovo to work with the British Council, questions started to be answered. 

Prishtina is the younger, energetic but somewhat dysfunctional member of the Balkan family of capital cities.  With a population of close to 800,000 people, of which is dominated by a young demographic, it’s a bustling city with lots to offer.  Many of the effects of the war seem to be hidden amongst the huge regeneration programme that the newly elected Mayor has commenced.  New roads, new housing and the constant efforts to pipe water from one of Kosovo’s main lakes mean that traffic is a guaranteed daily spectacle.  When you do manage to get anywhere in a taxi they seem to be absent in the knowledge of what road my apartment is on.  The traffic at least makes walking up one of Prishtina’s numerous steep hills satisfying.

The British Council here has one of the smaller teams among the European set up.  With only 9 people including myself, with three on leave at the moment, it’s going to provide great opportunities to get involved with the projects the council runs, rather than being the trolly dolly.

I’ll be commenting on adventures and experiences here for the next three months and trying to avoid featuring in Elliot’s Google alert of “Jamie Pickton international incident”!!!

Flas me vone.