we wake up early enough. Mark is coaxed out of bed with the promise of espresso or just another macchiato. As the OXAB team we meander down to our local bakery to get the usual, loaf of bread and chocolate buns. Today Mark tells the lady the price. Before she suggests what the cost is Mark has interjected with ‘three euros?’ at which point her eyes light up with the prospect of us paying twice as much as anyone else.

whilst we pootle down the damaged roads and play dodge-ball with the cars coming from both directions Fazz gives us a call saying he has left uni and is on sunset strip waiting. He swaggers towards us with a proprietorial air about him, this isn’t his town but it’s his Kosovo. The first thing we do is find yet another glorious coffee bar, Mark is thrilled at the potential of the caffeine. We discuss the charity and MAK and how Fazz has built up all his contacts. As we decide to leave there is a rush to the bar to pay, we have to restrain Fazz from paying for everything.

Urban FM DJ, looking out over Pristina

the four of us then set off to Urban.FM, the radio station that is the pioneer in political broadcasting to the masses without state intervention. We drive round the back of the buildings and get out. up the stairs is a studio with an array of computers, speakers, microphones and an enormous mixing desk. all the shows are live and get to about 65% of the whole of Kosovo. That, however, is not the most exciting part. While we wait we talk to another broadcaster about the radio and the things he plays and talks about but then out of nowhere Kosovo’s Che Guevara assertively strolls in. He introduces himself with a firm handshake and says how the radio station has allowed people to get an idea of the news without having to rely on the governments information.

Here it is very important to build a mental image of the man in front of me. Wearing what can only be described as the typical journalists shirt, brown, slightly baggy, un-tucked, blue jeans and shoes (that suggest he has been working hard). Then his face. The only features you can acquire with just over a hundred cups of coffee a day and smoking your body weight in cigarettes, his eyes tired and determined. the coffee has given him the shakes and he talks fast and passionately about what he is doing and what he wants to achieve. we discuss the possibility of having journalists coming over to the UK and Oxford people working within the radio station, the casual question is asked, ‘are there any security threats?’. Che pauses. He looks at us calmly, coffee mug shaking and still holding the cig he took out an hour ago but has not stopped talking so just didn’t have time to light and smoke it, and says, ‘well, when i was walking to the press conference of the peace train [a train containing DJs and music that travelled through kos spreading democracy and unity of serbs and albanians] a man pulled out a knife and threatened to stab me. I said, just before you do can you tell me why. the man said you are a traitor. I said, bullshit, this is bullshit I am not a traitor.’ Che wasn’t stabbed and assured us that was a one off incident. After many stories about the peace train and conversation starts to wain as it’s obvious Che needs to get off and lead the next revolution and OXAB just didn’t have the political will to do it we left.

Fazz drives us the now common route to Prodejeva and we have another coffee, its only the third of the day. we talk about Che and all his adventures and how the people here are just bored of the gov saying things are gong to change so they are taking it on themselves and making a difference and making sure it is working the way they see things working in Kos. All i have to offer is stories about will and his conquests, Fazz is a quick learner and is taking the piss out of will within minutes. Fazz then suggests we go for coffee with the Mayor, not really thinking anything of it we’re like yeah cool, why not?

Meeting with the Mayor of Podujeva

We get into the government office and people greet Fazz, hands shaking, hugs conversations. He pops up and then beckons us up. Fazz is very pally with the man. We have another coffee, and suddenly it dawns on me, I don’t think I would be able to call up Boris and be like, oh I’ve made a friend from Kos and he fancies meeting you, can you fit me in today? Will and Mark talk about the work OXAB do and the benefits and what we want to bring to the country and how we see room for development. I  then pipe up for the first time with a question, it goes through the official translator, Fazz, and the Mayor stops, he thinks for a second and says (translated) ‘Baghdadi. where are you from?’ We then get into the ever so common, oh Iraq, but there is something more this time. There is a perceived mutual understanding, countries that have been affected by war and are on the mend. My question was lost never to be found again. The photo shoot goes off without a hitch and we are all happy to have met each other and part ways.

Just to make sure everyone is happy and Mark’s caffeine levels aren’t falling below the critical threshold, we go for a cup of coffee. We postulate the gorgeous women of Kos are created out the coffee, that makes them active, and the nicotine that suppresses their appetite. Fazz really thinks we are chatting rubbish but does agree that the girls are lovely to look at and of course will has to interject with his ideas and experiences of girls, classic Breame. Fazz then pipes up and invites us to the ballet in the national theatre. of course Fazz’s cousin is the lead dancer and is stunningly attractive, Will is then pushed seriously close to having a heart attack over the prospect of seeing lovely looking girls in leotards.

the time flys and before we know it it’s 1800 and we get the bus. the one euro dream waggon that takes us back to Pristina. We talk about the usual rubbish on the bus; charity work, revolution, changing the world, girls and food.

On the way home we stop off at the local shop and deliberate for a good half hour over the various pasta sauces we could get. we decide on a tub of pepper sauce and buying 2 tins of tuna, couple of tomatoes and a chili, good work fellas. oh and 2 large bottles of beer that the man behind the counter looks at us with sheer disgust. Little does he know that it will only be a matter of hours before we are back with the a request of another 3… they have civilised coffee drinking and conversation, we have drinking beer and chatting shit, i know what i prefer.

Will cooks the dinner because Mark and I have nothing to do. He warms the pan, cuts the chili and onions and throws them all in. The landlord then pops up, the glorious Pablo with only money on his mind and booze on his breathe, and starts to wince. with the chemical warfare will has just started. A sight to be seen, Mark, Will, Luke, and Pablo, the best dressed man this side of Milan with his dapper suit and slippers all coughing and laughing at the situation. when we go to open the window Pablo shouts the idea down, how dare we let precious heat out, you will loose your eyes before the heat is lost!

we eat, we drink then the conversation arises, is society built out the individuals of society or is it the society that creates individuals? I can safely say that i was captivated with academic argument going on around me… once all 10 litres of beer were drank and things were winding down a knock at the door came. A french boy with nothing but girls jeans on was stood in front of us. Mark initially closed the door but with an overwhelming sense of inquiry he open it again. All being open minded we invited him in for a conversation, he kindly declines. In fact he is searching for a condom and explains the jeans he is wearing are the young ladies he is with. 3 twenty something boys, he must have been thinking he was quids in! Will scurries off in an attempt to save the poor young-un from making the mistake of his life but returns empty handed! the boy then leaves us muttering that he will find what he needs else where.

at this point, tired and drunk we decide the success of yet another day will help us sleep well.

Tags: Kosovo, OXAB Kosovo Exploration Trip