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The idea of visiting North Macedonia came spontaneously when my wife and I realized we were tired of typical seaside resorts with their endless noise and overcrowded beaches. We wanted something truly secluded, yet with water and a special soul. Macedonia is often associated only with Ohrid, but while studying maps, I stumbled upon Lake Prespa. It’s located right nearby, yet it feels like an entirely different world. Most interestingly, it is home to the country’s only real island — Golem Grad, also known as Snake Island. That was the deciding factor.
We weren’t looking for loud parties or luxury hotel chains. Our goal was a "slow travel" format, where you have time to notice how the light changes on the mountain slopes and you know the local bakery owner by name. We looked forward to peace, clean water, and the chance to touch history that isn’t hidden behind museum glass. Preparation was minimal: a couple of booked guesthouses, a list of local dishes to try, and offline maps of the region. The mood before the start was exploratory — as if we were about to open a door to a secret room in the Balkans.
In the height of summer, in July, we consciously chose a destination where the heat is more manageable thanks to the altitude and the coolness of glacial lakes. We wanted to see if the authentic Europe described in old guidebooks still exists. And, looking back, I can say we found it. Our 11-day plan included not just lakeside relaxation, but mountain treks, exploring old Byzantine churches, and, of course, a detailed introduction to Golem Grad Island.
Our journey began in the small village of Stepane on the shores of Lake Prespa. We decided this would be the perfect base for the first half of the holiday. We checked into a cozy guesthouse we found through a local forum. It was a stone house with wooden terraces draped in grapevines. The owner, an elderly Macedonian man named Nikola, greeted us as if we were long-lost relatives. The room smelled of dried lavender and fresh linen. The windows looked out directly onto the lake, which looked like molten silver in the rays of the setting sun.
First, we went to scout the village center. Stepane is not a tourist hub, but a living place where people farm and fish. Lunch happened in a tiny tavern by the pier. We ordered Tavče Gravče — traditional beans in a clay pot — and freshly caught lake trout. The food was simple, but the flavor was so rich that we knew gastronomy wouldn't be an issue here. My wife immediately noted the quality of local vegetables; the tomatoes here smell of sunshine, not plastic.
After lunch, we simply walked along the shore. Lake Prespa is surprising because it is very shallow near the banks, and the water warms up instantly. We found a wild stretch of beach where there wasn't a soul. The water was perfectly clear and the bottom sandy. We spent a couple of hours there, just listening to the water and watching the pelicans — there are a huge number of them here. In the evening, we returned to the guesthouse, where Nikola treated us to homemade rakija and told us about life on the lake. We slept to the sound of cicadas, enjoying the silence that is so lacking in a metropolis.
The main event of the second day was a trip to Golem Grad Island. We arranged a ride with a local boatman in advance, as there is no regular ferry service. In the morning, having loaded the boat with water and sandwiches, we set off. The trip across the lake took about 40 minutes. The island rises from the water suddenly — high rocky shores thickly overgrown with forest. It’s a unique place where ruins of ancient settlements and churches remain, and the only inhabitants now are birds, tortoises, and snakes.
Stepping ashore, we felt like true explorers. There are almost no paths on the island; you have to make your way through juniper thickets. We googled the island's history right on the spot (the mobile signal was surprisingly good). It turned out Golem Grad was inhabited back in antiquity, and in the Middle Ages, monks lived here. We found the ruins of the 14th-century Church of St. Peter — the walls are preserved up to the roof, and fragments of ancient frescoes are still visible inside. The sense of time there disappears completely.
There really are many snakes on the island, mostly water snakes, but they are not aggressive at all and are the first to leave the path. We saw hundreds of tortoises sunning themselves on the rocks. We spent the whole day wandering the island, studying the remains of Roman water cisterns and watching cormorant colonies. We had lunch on top of a plateau with a view of three countries at once: North Macedonia, Greece, and Albania. It was one of the most powerful impressions — realizing that borders are somewhere out there in the water, while nature is one. By evening, tired but inspired, we returned to Stepane.
We decided to dedicate the third day to total relaxation. After the active trek to the island, our muscles needed a break. We woke up late and had breakfast on the terrace with homemade yogurt, honey, and nuts brought by Nikola’s wife. We decided not to take the car but simply walk to the neighboring village of Konjari. The road went through apple orchards — the Prespa region is famous for its apples. The air was filled with the aroma of ripening fruit and pine needles.
In Konjari, we stumbled upon a small pottery workshop. We spent about an hour there, watching the master work and picking out souvenirs. Unlike the tourist shops in Ohrid, everything here was authentic, rustic, and very soulful. We bought a couple of bowls for our home, which now remind us of that sunny morning. We had lunch at a local cooperative where the workers themselves eat. The portions were massive: a huge plate of Šopska salad and a pljeskavica (local patty) the size of a dinner plate.
The afternoon was spent on the shore. I read a book while my wife sketched in her notebook. The water in the lake that day was unusually calm, like a mirror. We googled a lot about the Prespa ecosystem and learned the lake is under UNESCO protection. In the evening, back in Stepane, we decided to have a picnic on the pier. We bought cheese, bread, and a bottle of Macedonian Vranec wine from the local shop. We sat on the dock until late at night, staring at the stars, which seem incredibly bright and close in the mountains.
On the fourth day, we decided to add a bit of adventure and went looking for a semi-abandoned village in the mountains above the lake. We were told that old stone houses with traditional architecture remained there, but almost no permanent residents were left. The road was unpaved and quite steep, but our rented 4x4 handled it. The landscapes changed along the way from lake panoramas to rugged mountain slopes covered in oak and beech.
The village met us with silence. Many houses stood with collapsed roofs, but there was a certain melancholic beauty to it. We wandered the narrow cobblestone streets, imagining how life buzzed here a hundred years ago. In one of the houses, we met an old man who still lives there. He invited us for coffee. We communicated with a mix of Macedonian, gestures, and smiles. He showed us his garden and treated us to dried figs. Such encounters are the most valuable part of traveling.
Lunch was right in the mountains: we found a spring with ice-cold water and settled in a clearing. We ate supplies from Stepane — a local zelnik pie with cabbage and cheese. The return journey took longer because we kept stopping to photograph the views. In the evening, returning to civilization, we felt how contrasting life is here. We stayed in our guesthouse, and that night I dreamed of old stone walls and the rustle of mountain herbs.
It was time to change locations, but we decided not to break our rule of avoiding crowds. Instead of Ohrid city itself, we booked an apartment in the small village of Trpejca, often called the "Macedonian Saint-Tropez." The path from Prespa to Ohrid lies through Galičica National Park. It’s a breathtaking serpentine road, from the top of which you can see two massive lakes simultaneously. We stopped at a viewpoint to take panoramic photos.
Trpejca turned out to be a charming place: houses cascade down to the water, and the beach consists of white pebbles, giving the water a bright turquoise hue. Our apartment was on the front line, literally ten steps from the water. After checking in, we went straight for a swim. The water in Ohrid is colder than in Prespa but incredibly fresh and clear. We searched for the best place to dine and chose a restaurant right on the beach, where the tables almost touch the water.
The evening was spent tasting pastrmka — the famous Ohrid trout. It’s an endemic species, and it’s prepared specially here. The restaurant was full of locals, which is always a good sign. We watched the sun set behind the mountains on the Albanian shore. It felt like being at the sea, but without the salt on the skin and without the extra fuss. Trpejca immediately won us over with its cozy fishing village atmosphere that has kept its character despite its popularity.
The morning of the sixth day began with a swim in the crystal-clear water. Lake Ohrid is so deep it feels bottomless. After breakfast, we drove toward the Monastery of Saint Naum. On the way, we stopped at the "Bay of Bones" — a reconstruction of a prehistoric pile-dwelling settlement. It’s quite touristy, but very well done. We were fascinated to see how people lived here thousands of years ago. My wife spent a long time studying archaeological finds in the small museum on site.
Next was the Monastery of Saint Naum. It is located almost right on the border with Albania. The place has a very strong energy. We walked around the grounds and looked at the peacocks strutting importantly among the tourists. But the most interesting part was the boat trip to the springs of the Black Drin River. The water bubbles up from the ground in huge pockets and forms a small, icy lake with incredible vegetation on the bottom. It looked like a set for a fantasy movie.
We had lunch at a restaurant by the Drin springs. We chose a spot away from the main groups. We ate traditional Macedonian salad and roasted meat. On the way back to Trpejca, we decided to visit one of the cave churches hidden in the woods along the road. We found the Church of the Holy Mother of God in Peshtani. To reach it, we had to climb a steep staircase, but the frescoes inside the rock were worth every drop of sweat. We spent the evening on our balcony, sharing impressions and planning the coming days.
On the seventh day, we finally decided to visit Ohrid city itself. We arrived early in the morning to beat the main heat and the influx of tourists. Leaving the car in a parking lot, we delved into the labyrinth of narrow Old Town streets. Ohrid’s architecture is something between Byzantine style and Ottoman influence. White houses with dark wooden beams look very photogenic. We climbed up to Samuil's Fortress, which offers a view of the entire city and the lake.
Then we descended to the amphitheater and visited the Church of Saint Sophia. Inside it was cool and smelled of wax. We spent a long time looking at the ancient frescoes, which are preserved in excellent condition. Lunch was in one of the Old Town courtyards. I ordered "Macedonian chorizo" (homemade sausages), and my wife had roasted vegetables. After lunch, we went looking for the famous Ohrid pearls. We googled which families produce them using secret technology and visited the Filevi family workshop. They told us the story of how the pearls are made from the scales of the plašica fish.
Of course, we didn't leave without a purchase — my wife chose a pair of elegant earrings. We spent the rest of the day walking along the promenade and browsing bookstores. In the evening, the city transforms, lights come on, and the atmosphere becomes very festive. We had a glass of wine at a bar overlooking the Church of Saint John at Kaneo — arguably Ohrid’s most recognizable spot. We returned to Trpejca late, tired of the city noise but happy to have seen the classics of Macedonian tourism.
The eighth day was dedicated to active recreation. We decided to take one of the hiking routes in Galičica National Park. We chose a medium-difficulty trail that started near the mountain pass. We geared up in the morning: comfortable shoes, sunscreen, and plenty of water. The climb was not easy, the sun was scorching, but it became fresher as we gained altitude. Wild herbs were blooming all around, and their scent was literally dizzying.
At an altitude of about 1600 meters, a view opened up that was worth every step. On one side was the deep blue Ohrid, and on the other, the more turquoise Prespa. We had a break on the mountain ridge. There was no one around, only eagles soaring high in the sky. We googled the plant species we encountered along the way — many of them are endemic and grow only here. It was a complete union with nature. In moments like these, you understand why people have considered these mountains sacred for centuries.
The descent took less time, but our legs were buzzing. Back at the car, we drove to the nearest village for an ice-cold beer and homemade cheese. Lunch was late and very simple that day. We spent the evening in Trpejca, swimming in the lake — it was the best way to recover after the hike. The water washed away all the fatigue. We decided no more climbing this trip; the remaining days would be dedicated only to water and food. We slept with the windows open, letting the mountain air into the room.
On the ninth day, we rented a kayak. This allowed us to explore sections of the coast that are impossible to reach by land. We paddled away from Trpejca and headed south. Many tiny grottoes and caves are hidden along the cliffs of Lake Ohrid. We found a small pebble beach squeezed between two sheer cliffs. There was just enough room for one kayak. We spent half a day there, snorkeling and watching the fish.
The water in such places seems absolutely unreal — visibility reaches 20 meters. We googled Ohrid’s underwater flora and found that relic species of sponges live here. We brought our lunch: burek pastries bought in the morning at the bakery and some fruit. The silence was broken only by the splashing of water and the cries of seagulls. It was one of the most romantic days of our trip. We felt like the owners of this little piece of paradise.
The return trip in the kayak against a light wind made us break a sweat, but it was pleasant physical exercise. In the evening, we decided to have a farewell dinner in Trpejca, as we planned a small trip toward the border the next day. We found a small family cafe where the hostess made moussaka herself. It was home-style delicious. We sat on the terrace for a long time, discussing how quickly time had flown. That night we slept particularly soundly to the sound of the surf.
We decided to spend the penultimate day visiting the village of Vevčani, located north of Ohrid. This place is known for its independent spirit (they even have their own "republic" and tourist passports) and incredible springs. The village is situated on the slope of Mount Jablanica. The first thing you notice is the abundance of water. It flows everywhere: in channels along the streets, from taps, and in waterfalls. The Vevčani springs are a real natural park with bridges and paths.
We spent a couple of hours walking along the streams of ice-cold water. The energy of the place is amazing. The village itself is very well-maintained, with beautiful old houses and many flowers. We had lunch at a restaurant famous for its traditional cuisine. We tried "Vevčani Gjuveč" — meat stewed with vegetables in a clay pot. After eating, we visited the local Church of Saint Nicholas, where we were struck by the wood carving — Macedonian masters have always been famous for their skill with this material.
On the way back, we stopped in Struga — the town where the Black Drin River flows out of Lake Ohrid. The atmosphere there is quite different: more movement, many cafes along the river. We just walked across the bridges and watched the fishermen. The evening was spent packing as our journey was coming to an end. We tried to memorize every sound and smell of that evening. We had dinner on our balcony in Trpejca, finishing the last of the wine and watching the lights fade on the other side of the lake.
The final day started early. We wanted to take one last dip in Lake Ohrid while the water was calm and cool. The sun was just beginning to rise from behind the mountains, painting everything in soft pink tones. We swam for a long time, trying to capture that feeling of freshness in our memory. After that was a final breakfast: fresh bread, homemade fig jam, and strong Macedonian coffee brewed in a cezve.
We thanked the owners of our apartment — over these days they had become almost like family. We handed over the keys and decided to stop at a small winery on the way to buy a couple of bottles of wine as souvenirs. The seller spent a long time telling us about the grape varieties and the specifics of the local climate. We bought a white Žilavka — it’s perfect for hot summer evenings. We drove the rest of the way to the airport in silence, each lost in our own thoughts.
Macedonia saw us off with sunny weather and green landscapes. We felt a slight sadness but at the same time a huge surge of energy. This trip turned out exactly as we wanted — without unnecessary pathos, but with a deep immersion into culture and nature. We stayed in different places, ate simple but honest food, and discovered places we had never even heard of before. It was a worthy conclusion to our 11-day marathon through Balkan beauties.
Reflecting on our journey to North Macedonia, I find myself thinking that this country gives much more than it promises at first glance. There is none of the polished look of Alpine resorts or the glamour of the French Riviera, but there is something much more important — sincerity. People here don't look at you as a source of income; they are genuinely happy to have guests. What we remember most is the silence of Lake Prespa and the feeling of a lost world on Golem Grad Island. This was the "island" vacation we were looking for, but in an entirely unexpected, lakeside format.
Of course, there were nuances. For example, roads in mountain areas require good driving skills and steady nerves. And the lack of developed tourist infrastructure in some places might unsettle those used to "all-inclusive" service. But for us, these were more pluses than minuses. It allowed us to see the real life of the country, not its display window. Macedonia remains one of the few places in Europe where you can still feel like a pioneer.
We are already making plans for the future. Now we want to come here in the autumn, when the pomegranates and grapes ripen and the mountains turn to gold. North Macedonia is a place you return to not for the sights, but for the state of mind. We took home not only pearls and wine, but the peace that these ancient mountains and deep lakes provide. If you are looking for a place where time slows down and food tastes like childhood, you should definitely look toward the shores of Ohrid and Prespa.
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