Kosovo

Crossing into Kosovo was easy.
A soft fog hung over the land,
and we entered with respect –
our view still shaped by media stories.

But the country greeted us differently.
Simple life. Friendly faces. Curious eyes.
People waved, asked where we were from –
and when we said Germany,
their smiles widened.

We had never been welcomed so warmly.
Not anywhere else on the journey.

One evening, we camped in the front yard of a local man.
He brought us two beers as a gift, just before nightfall.
The next day, we rode into Pristina.

There, we were welcomed by Lirim and Viola,
who let us stay in their second apartment –
normally reserved for their parents.
We ended up staying three weeks.

Long dinners, late conversations, time with their son.
They opened their lives to us,
and soon we were part of their circle of friends.
We experienced our first real power outages,
explored the city,
and found rest in a way we hadn’t known for months.

The break felt good.
A chance to slow down,
to feel a culture more deeply.
October came. The days grew colder.

When we left Pristina,
our hearts were full and heavy.

But Kosovo wasn’t done with us yet.
Later, when looking for a place to camp,
a family invited us into their home.
Private rooms. A full dinner. A full breakfast.
And a room filled with smiles, stories, and even invited guests
who came just to see us.

Being German opened doors here.
The bond between our countries runs deep.
And we felt it, every day.

Kosovo – a country with a heavy past,
and people with wide-open hearts.

As for Lirim and Viola –
I’m so grateful to have met you.
You’re part of my heart now.
You’re both wonderful human beings.

Thank you.