Where the Lake Breathes Slowly – A Ride Along Ohrid
They say that Lake Ohrid is one of the oldest in Europe, and when you pedal beside it, time slows down too. The road curves gently like a lullaby, hugging the water’s edge, where fishermen still cast nets at dawn.
We left Pogradec in the golden light of morning, following a path lined with cherry trees, toward the small village of Lin. It’s a place so quiet you can hear the lake breathe—waves brushing the pebbles like whispers from the past. This place held mosaics older than memory, tucked behind a sleepy church.
Tushemisht felt like a watercolor painting. Water flows in every direction—under bridges, beside garden cafés, out of springs that bubble with life.
We stopped for lunch by the Drilon springs, where trout swim just a breath away from your plate. It’s impossible not to feel grateful, pedaling through air that smells of pine and stone, between lake and mountain, held in perfect balance.
“Ohrid is not just a lake,” a local woman told us. “It’s a soul we grew up beside.”
She was right.
