Shopping

First, to declare my interests. I don’t like shopping. Never have. Not very much, anyway. I can while away a little time in music shops and a little more in bookshops, though these visits are few and far between. Shopping, however, is a necessity on a self-catering budget jape, and with other amusements thin on the ground and with the joy of the unknown in previously unchartered and what I hoped would be ‘excellent supermarkets’ it was an activity I was keener on than usual. So, rather than sulk, I entered places of procurement with a steady gaze and honourable intentions.

Food

Food was my main shopping item, rather unsurprisingly. In Bari, I went for convenience at the ferry terminal and ended up paying over the odds for a flat, warm sandwich (or ‘panini’), a bag of crisps, a beer and a near total invasion of my personal space by the food concession manager’s chums (left luggage, senior newsagent, crappy shop holder and other assorted semi-official, loud port people).

In Bar, Belgrade and Sofia I frequented ok-ish supermarkets. Nothing in any of the countries’ guidebooks suggested memorable cuisine, especially for vegetarians, although I humbly offer the following observations and recommendations:

Dried bread and perma-cheese roll - holidays don’t start until I’ve assembled one of these horrors from hurriedly bought convenience ingredients. In Bar, my moisture-free lunch attracted one of a number of stray dogs hanging out near the promenade between the main drag and shoreline. I was able, however, to exit without attracting excessive canine interest.