I sleep better than expected in my room at the Pansion Han. I have learnt why the guest house is in such a decrepit state - that's because it's over 400 years old and reparations have been very poor. But it was suitable to stay here as a Han was the euivalent to the caravanserais used by traders on the Silk Road. If the ancient traders could do the Silk Road in some of the lowest comfort then surely I could forgo it for a few nights.

I have a really good feeling in Novi Pazar and the turkish influence is heavily felt. Old men with Arabic skulcaps sit around outside some cafés playing backgammon or dominoes, and the bazar streets are reminiscent of those you might see in the Middle East. Despite an influx of modern expresso bars, the coffee is Turkish style - black, sweet and strong, and served with a glass of water and some  Turkish Delight.

I had a leisurely stroll through Novi Pazar's crowded streets in the warm sunshine having Turkish coffee on one of the outside cafe terraces. I had agreed to meet Aleksandar at 2pm and was slightly bemused to recieve a call at 1pm asking where I was. I said I was having lunch and would be there at two, whereupon I realised that the clocks had in fact gone forward an hour for summer! I quickly rushed my lunch and made it to the Mercy Corps offices where Aleksandar was waiting with the Jeep.

We first made our way to the Petrova Crkva (Church of St Peter) at the edge of town. It claims to be the oldest church in Serbia and parts of it date back to the 8th century. On arrival the door was locked, but very soon an old peasant woman came to our assistance. It obviously had so few visitors that it wasn't worth keeping open all the time. She fetched one of the biggest iron keys I have ever seen and I opened the door. Inside it was delightful, and through Aleksandar's translations she expained a bit more about it. Sadly the 13th century frescoes were largely damaged, but it was amazing that the church had survived this long and was still in use to this day.

Our next stop was the recently re-inhabited Durdevi Stupovi Monastery 3km further uphill from the church. Again this claims tpo be the oldest monastery in Serbia. It had been left to ruin for the last 50 years until a recent, but small brotherhood of Orthodox Christians has returned to restore it. No-one can explain how or why it came to be where it is, perched on a hill allowing splendid views of the surrounding mountains. Legend has it that St Simeon was captured by the Turks in the 1170s and promised God that if he gained his freedom, he would become a monk and build the monastery. Despite turkish and WWII damage the brotherhood have began the arduous task of reconstructing the chruch complete with its two enormous lookout towers.

Our final stop was to the Sopocani Monastery which is similar to the one at Durdevi Stupovi. The frecoes inside were in a much better condition and we arrived in time for the evening liturgy as moks with large unkempt beards, long hair and long black robes  muttered away in Serbian. After this we returned to Novi Pazar and sat outside on the terraces for a few beers before heading for a supper of mantilje (kind of mini cornish pastries with yoghurt).

The Sandzak area is a real ethnic mix with a majority of Bosniak muslims, but despite the high ethnic tensions the people are friendly and for the most part helpful. I have timed my arrival with the first few days of spring and the air is warmer. The snow on the surrounding mountains has all but melted and there is an atmosphere of revitalisation again after 5 months of winter snow halted most activity. The Sunday market is closing after a busy day and the streets are still full of chatter as I head to bed.

Pictures to follow when I get a decent Internet connection!