... contested lands ...
Kosovo
Kosovo
Pristina - Prizren - Peja
Mitrovica - Sharr Mountains
Europe’s youngest state does not feature prominently on the agenda of people visiting the Western Balkans. Poor, shabby and politically unstable are instead adjectives that are often associated with the former Yugoslav province. Time for a re-think. Kosovo has some underrated tourist jewels, particularly the pretty town of Prizren, while the Sharr Mountains bordering North Macedonia, Albania and Montenegro are a little explored natural asset that enables visitors to seek solitude amidst magnificent scenery. And the capital Pristina might be short on traditional sights but is nonetheless a vibrant and exuberant city which shows off impressively Kosovans’ hospitality and friendliness. You also get a lot of bang for your buck. Above all, the country is undergoing a fascinating process of trying to establish itself against many historical, economic and political odds. This is state building in action.
The road to Independence
It is the ultimate expression of nationalism: a people aiming to live in a sovereign independent state. During Yugoslav times, Kosovo, with a large majority of Albanian citizens was organised as a province within the Republic of Serbia. For many Kosovans, life during those years wasn’t just a struggle but a persistent humiliation. The Albanian language was supressed, public investment by the authorities in Belgrade was reduced to a minimum, job opportunities limited in a thinly veiled attempt to prompt Albanians to emigrate and to seek better lives away from home. The collapse of communism and the break-up of Yugoslavia made matters worse, as the ruling Serb elite tightened its grip. By the mid-1990, resentment had reached fever pitch.
Billboard in South Mitrovica
KLA, the Kosovo Liberation Army (or UÇK which stands for Ushtria Çlirimtare e Kosovës) was found during that time and started to commit acts of sabotage against police stations and army posts, whilst also targeting Serbian authorities in Kosovo. Retaliation soon followed, and in March 1999 Serbian forces began a massive military campaign of repression and expulsions of Kosovar Albanians, prompting many citizens to flee across the border and into Albania. In the same month, and upon the initiative of UK Prime Minister Tony Blair and U.S. President Bill Clinton, NATO started a bombing campaign against cities in Serbia, before NATO forces entered Kosovo in June 1999 to bring the war to an end.
Bill Clinton Memorial, Pristina
The country declared independence from Serbia in 2008, led by Prime Minister and former KLA general Hashim Thaçi, who was indicted by the International War Crimes Tribunal in the Hague in 2020, together with three other former KLA operatives, Kadri Veseli, Rexhep Selimi and Jakup Krasniqi. In September 2026, Thaçi was convicted and sentenced to 25 years in prison for war crimes, including the murder of 96 people and the torture of 303 people. But Thaçi and the other three KLA leaders assumed the status of national heroes. During my stay in the country and with the verdict just being announced, there were daily rallies in Pristina of thousands of people in a public show of defiance and support. For many Kosovars, it was Thaçi and the KLA who secured independence and ended decades of repression. The fact that a nation is now finally secure within the confines of their own state vindicates their actions. Yet in international law, ends do not necessarily justify means. This is a conundrum that many young polities struggle to come to terms with. Not just in Kosovo, but also in Croatia or in Bosnia & Herzegovina.
Pristina
The capital Pristina. Presumably ugly, definitely vibrant
A 2019 article on the BBC website referred to Kosovo’s only major city as often being dismissed as Europe’s ugliest capital. European travellers might also include Bucharest in Romania, or Chisinau in Moldova in this questionable category, but Pristina is most certainly a valiant contender. Signs of deprivation and poverty are everywhere: piles of discarded rubbish on street corners, stray dogs roaming the streets, neglected public spaces, young men idling away their time in cafes at mid-morning. Kosovo’s capital has a notable shortage of traditional tourist highlights, such as monumental museums, or imposing houses of worship and civic buildings. Instead, visitors will come across a jumble of dilapidated houses interspersed by Yugoslav brutalist architecture, chiefly amongst them the (rather fabulous) National Library.
National Library, Pristina
First impressions of this city are most certainly not romantic or aesthetically pleasing ones. But just outside the old town centre a new Pristina is gradually emerging, with modern apartment blocks and shiny commercial spaces slowly re-shaping the city’s skyline. Pristina can also boast the lively, atmospheric and pedestrianised Mother Theresa Boulevard that links the Skanderberg monument with the university and is lined with cafes, bars and restaurants. This is the beating heart of the city where families and friends gather for their evening stroll. Not ugly at all, but charming, vibrant, friendly and exuberant. I could think of worse places to spend a Saturday evening.
Box 1: Albanians in Yugoslavia
The spread of the Muslim religion across the western Balkans was a consequence of the advancing Ottoman empire which at the end of the 17th century controlled large parts of southwestern Europe; from Istanbul in the east all the way to the gates of Vienna in the west. By 1870 however, Turkish forces were in retreat with many Muslim communities being driven from lands that they had occupied for several centuries. This was the fate that met 130,000 Albanians who were expelled from southern Serbia, only to settle in what today are Kosovo and Albania. At the end of World War II, former partisan leader Josip Broz Tito aimed to establish a communist state for southern Slavic peoples, and at one stage advanced talks were held with Bulgaria and Albania to join his young Yugoslavia until Tito’s ideological split from Stalin put an end to a pan-Yugoslav idea. Tito’s state represented an amalgam of 6 republics (Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia & Herzegovina, Serbia, Macedonia and Montenegro), yet Hungarians (in northern Serbia) and Albanians (in Kosovo) were given limited autonomy by categorising them as provinces within the largest Yugoslav entity of Serbia. In Kosovo, the Albanian population became subject to persistent discrimination. For instance, the university in Pristina was being ordered to adopt Serbian as their means of communication, while speaking the Albanian language represented a criminal offence. With Slobodan Milošević rise to power in 1986 as the leader of the Serbian Communist party, matters worsened. Kosovo Albanians were expelled from public offices. We met a chap in Pristina who told us that back then he lost his job as a waiter in a state-run hotel. Public investment in housing, infrastructure or education was reduced to a trickle, with the obvious aim of forcing Albanians into economic migration to other parts of Yugoslavia. The army and secret police (both under Serbian control) came down hard on anyone calling for more Kosovo-Albanian independence. During the break-up of Yugoslavia, Kosovo was a powder keg of discrimination and repressed aspirations.
Orthodox Church of St. Dimitrija, Mitrovica
Mitrovica: separated, not divided
The town in the far north of the country is often mis-represented as one of Europe’s divided cities, along the lines of Cold War Berlin, or Nicosia in Cyprus. But this description is not accurate. Yes, the town’s Serbian minority lives on the north side of the Ibar River and elects its own municipality and major. The Republic of Serbia even contributes to the financing of health care and education facilities, and the town folk use the Serbian Dinar as their currency, and not the Euro as the Albanian part of Kosovo does. But there are no border police, or passport and visa restrictions to access North Mitrovica. Even traffic can freely flow between the two sides, although access to the centrally located New Bridge (often also referred as Austerlitz bridge and manned by a couple of Italian carabinieris) is only open to pedestrians. The contrast is stark. To the south, the Albanian town (population of around 60,000) is frantic with bustling commercial activities along main Queen Teutë Street. To the north (population of around 18,000), the pace is noticeably more genteel: a small collection of bars and restaurants; the odd family out for a stroll, a couple of friends chatting over coffee.
During our visit Mitrovica appeared calm. This has not always been the case. Many local Serbs are reluctant to integrate within Albanian communities, and the two ethnicities live alongside one another, but not together. And the New Bridge serves as a symbol for Serbian resistance against Kosovo independence. This is where ethnic tensions often flare up, for instance in 2014, when Kosovo police had to use tear gas against hundreds of Albanian demonstrators, who attempted to remove barricades on the bridge that had previously been erected by their Serbian counterpart. Then there was the so called ‘license plate dispute’ of 2021, when the government in Pristina required vehicles entering from Serbia to swap their plates for temporary Kosovo registrations. In retaliation, Serbs used trucks and heavy machinery to build massive roadblocks which completely stopped traffic along the checkpoints in the northern villages of Jarinje and Brnjak. Most notoriously of all was a standoff in 2023 in the small border village of Banjska, where armed ethnic Serb gunmen ambushed a Kosovo police patrol, killing one officer. The militants then barricaded themselves inside a local Serbian Orthodox monastery. A shootout ensued, resulting in the deaths of three gunmen.
New Bridge, Mitrovica
It was all so different during Yugoslav times. The area surrounding the town is rich with deposits of lead, zinc and lignite (essential to produce computer chips and mobile phones), as well as a whopping 17 billion tonnes of coal. During its heyday in the 1980s, the Trepça Mines employed more than 20,000 people, making it one of Yugoslavia’s biggest companies and accounting for 70% of the country’s mineral wealth. Nowadays, the mine is largely inactive with major international investment required to tap into the significant remaining deposits.
Mitrovica
Peja: The Hidden Gem
My travel companion and I boarded a bus, a discarded former German coach still displaying the travel agency’s logo and drove for just under two hours in a westerly direction through a featureless landscape of parched fields and desolated villages with run-down housing stock complemented by newly built homes on the outskirts. But Peja came as a pleasant surprise. Located close to the border with Montenegro, Kosovo’s third city is a picturesque place nestled in the foothills of the Rugova mountains with a charming old core and a sprawling bazar.
Peja
Not that we experienced the buzz of the latter as it was Sunday afternoon with the town folk enjoying late summer sunshine. So we joined them for a stroll along the Lumbardhi (White) River and into the Rugova Gorge to the Patriarchate of Peć monastery; a well-preserved Serbian-orthodox church dating back to the 14th century. Our plan was to take Kosovo’s last remaining train back to Pristina, until we studied the train’s timetable with only two daily departures at 5.00 am (presumably for commuters to the capital), and at midday (rather inconvenient for day trippers). At the train station I caught a glimpse of the rolling stock, which was predominantly old German carriages dating back to the 1980s. This might be highly attractive for train aficionados, yet I have sat on those trains on countless occasions during my younger years and was therefore content with giving this attraction a miss. Instead, it was another bus journey back through uninspiring scenery.
Patriarchate of Pec
Box 2: Poverty
Since breaking away from Serbia in 2008, only 110 countries have recognised Kosovo as a newly independent state. Serbia continues to view the country as its own southern province, while Spain, Greece, and Cyprus, but also Russia and China do not maintain diplomatic relations because of the potential international precedent for separatist movements that such a process would entail. This limbo status is not conducive for international investment; a situation that even the application to join the EU in 2022 did not alleviate. In fact, Brussels categorises Kosovo as a ‘potential’, and not an ‘official’ candidate.
The country continues to be ranked among Europe’s three poorest states (the other two being Ukraine and Moldova), with GDP per capita in Bulgaria (the EU’s poorest member) being twice as high. Further statistics provide for more grim reading; 40% of the population lives below the poverty line, one out of six people exists on 3.20 $ a day. One in four is without a job, one in two amongst those under 25. And while EU governments spend on average 20% of their budget on health care, that figure in Kosovo is a paltry 4%. The minimum wage is 250€ per month, and a salary of 1,500€ (roughly the minimum wage in the UK) places you into the category of an affluent earner.
Unfortunately, the depressing economic situation shows no sign of abating. The country is lacking in key economic infrastructure: from roads and transport hubs to skills and further education. Add to this endemic corruption and a shortage of natural assets (apart from the mineral deposits near Mitrovica) and it is little wonder that the economy is heavily reliant on transfers from the diaspora in Switzerland and Germany. Unsurprisingly still is the large number of emigrants, with about 1% of the population leaving Kosovo every year to seek a better life abroad.
Tony Blair Boulevard, Peja
The Jewel in Kosovo’s Tourism Crown: Prizren
Any hope for a thriving tourist economy is anchored around this small town in the foothills of the Sharr Mountains. North Macedonia and Albania are just over the hills, with Montenegro located a little further to the north. The approach into the town centre is the usual jumble of run-down commercial districts and industrial zones, broken up by the odd shopping mall or by shining new apartment blocks. All rather typical for many Kosovar cities.
Prizren, Old Town
But the old town nestled either side of the Bristrica River is undeniably charming with its cobble stone lanes, spruced up buildings, charming shops and inviting cafes. Above it, up a very steep street sit the remnants of the Prizren Fortress once the powerbase of the Serbian empire in the 13th and 14th century. Nowadays it represents an agreeable spot to watch a sunset. Of note are also two houses of worship: the Sina Pasha Mosque not far from the beautiful stone bridge, as well as the orthodox Church of the Holy Saviour, just halfway down the hill from the fortress, which was sadly vandalised in 2004 and is now locked up. While Prizren might struggle to make it onto a list of must-visit Balkan destinations it is nonetheless a charming and agreeable place; even more so given its handy location as a convenient base for exploring the finest nature assets that Kosovo has to offer.
Sina Pasha Mosque, Prizren
Box 3: Serbs in Kosovo
For many Serbs, Kosovo represents a sacred territory that is almost mythical in its historical significance for the nation. It was here in 1389 at the Battle of Kosovo, where an army lead by Price Lazar Hrebeljanović fought invading Ottoman forces under the command of Sultan Murad I. Though both leaders were killed and Serbia could not contain the advance of the Ottoman empire, the battle in a field about 5 km north of today’s Pristina is regarded by many Serbs as a cornerstone of their nation’s history with a national holiday (and a bombastic monument on site) commemorating the event. Kosovo is also home to many Serbian monasteries and orthodox shrines, for instance the Patriarchate of Peć, the Gračanica Monastery outside of Pristina, or the Church of Our Lady of Ljeviš in Prizren, all dating back to the 14th century.
Vice President of the Serbian Communist Party Slobodan Milošević was of course aware of this historical significance. In 1989 he gave a speech to a crowd of some one million people on the Kosovo field in honour of the 600th anniversary of the battle. During his address, Milošević received information (false, as it later turned out) that Albanian police officers were beating up Serb attendees of the rally, which prompted the politician to utter the famous words ‘No one has the right to beat you’. The speech was broadcasted widely around Yugoslavia and accelerated the rise of nationalism as a political force that eventually resulted in the violent implosion of the country during the 1990s.
Ever since the War of Independence in 1999, the situation for the Serbian minority in Kosovo continues to deteriorate. Nearly 30 years on, and the atmosphere is still tense. On bi-lingual road signs, the Serbian Cyrillic spelling is often blackened out with spray paint. Religious sights even UNESCO-protected ones are the subject of frequent vandalism. And Serbs left the country in large numbers. In early 1999, the country was home to just over 200,000 people of Serbian origin. By the end of the year, half of those had fled or were expelled. According to estimates by the OECD, that number has not moved much recently, yet Serbs and Albanians continue to live separate lives, with the former spread out over just 4 municipalities.
Prizren
In search of solitude: the Sharr Mountains
It is in the area around Prizren, where four countries meet: Kosovo and its neighbours North Macedonia, Albania, as well as Montenegro. The heart of any pan-Albanian activists must sink at the sight of all those borders with a people dispersed across several jurisdictions. This mountainous region recently started to pop up on the radar of outdoor enthusiasts. Yet hikers tend to tackle the hills from the Albanian side, where the range is referred to as the snappy sounding Accursed Mountains. Over here, we did not encounter any foreign tourists, let alone fellow hikers.
Sharr Mountains
We drove for a little over an hour from Prizren along Route 113 towards the border with North Macedonia and the village of Brod. Further up the valley lies the small mountain resort of Arxhena, which sports a compact hotel as well as two ski lifts (though snow failed to materialise throughout the 2025-26 season). The hotel serves as an excellent base for hiking into the impressive Gradski Kamen Canyon, which we did for a good 10 km. Climb further and the tops of Mount Titov Vrv in Macedonia (2,748 m) and Mount Korab in Albania (2,764 m) beckon.
Gradski Kamen Canyon
Box 4. Europe’s shabbiest country.
I am sorry, Kosovo, but I have never been to a part of Europe that is so blighted by rubbish. Drinks bottles, food wrappers, cartons, entire contents of ash trays casually discarded by the roadside; municipal garbage containers filled to the rim with stray cats and dogs sifting through the debris only to spread it across the pavement. Even high up in the mountains, when surrounded by pristine nature, discarded soft drink cans and wrappers of energy bars are all too visible. A left-leaning reasoning might interpret this regrettable situation as a function of poverty. Town administrations simply do not have the financial resources to implement regular garbage collections. And a high level of poverty is often accompanied by a sense of despair that undermines any notions of civic pride.
Or there’s your right-leaning interpretation: that of a morally compromised society where citizens selfishly only seem to look after themselves and have lost all sight of public decency. Whichever side you are on, as a visitor you cannot fail to notice the filth. If political authorities in Kosovo aim for increased tourism revenues, this is where they might want to start, since the aesthetic beauty of heritage buildings, architecture or landscapes will be judged against the backdrop of an all too often shabby appearance.
Should you go:
As always, a rental car is the most convenient way to get around this compact country, while also getting you to the trail heads when hiking in the Sharr Mountains. For those intend on using public transport, Kosovo has a wonderfully chaotic network of buses that gets you to all settlements for very little money. For our visit, we chose Pristina as our central base and used those buses to get to Mitrovica (45 minutes), Peja (90 minutes) and Prizren (2 hours), where we rented a car to explore the Sharr Mountains. We had some hilarious encounters. At the central bus station in Pristina, we asked for the connection to Mitrovica only to be told that the coach does not enter the bus station (presumably to save on the user charge), but instead uses a layby located below a nearby fly-over. Of course, why wouldn’t you? On our trip to Prizren excellent (and free) coffee was brought to our seats by one of the numerous attendants that seem to accompany every journey. And for our onward travel to Tirana in Albania, a random coach picked us up from the gate earmarked for long-distance buses and drove us across town to a remote parking lot, where the Pristina – Tirana connection tends to stop. Yet it all worked, and always with a smile on people’s faces.
International car rental chains have offices at Pristina airport, but the same does not apply to Prizren. Yet, once there you cannot fail but notice numerous outfits on the main trunk roads advertising their services. We approached our Air BnB host and we ended up with an ancient VW Golf that had clocked up 360,000 km. But who can argue with a daily rate of 30 Euro?
In Pristina and Prizren we made sure to stay within walking distance of the town centre. In the capital, we enjoyed our time at the Garden Downtown Pristina. In Prizren we chose to stay in an Air BnB apartment in one of those shiny new apartment block towers. Prizren is full of them.
Sharr Mountains
