My lasting memories of Albania :
An endless parade of unfinished and abandoned buildings, rubbish everywhere - on the sides of roads, in ravines, in and on the banks of rivers, bad roads, manic drivers, beautiful rugged mountains and valleys, beautiful coastline being ruined by rubbish, and friendly people.
We're told that before Communism was ousted, Albania did not have a rubbish problem. They didn't have plastic bags or bottles, and almost everything was recycled in some way. But since democracy and access to western consumerism arrived, the locals have adopted the throwaway habits of the west without the benefits of a regular rubbish collection. Hence, piles of rubbish - plastic of every type, bottles, cans, and building rubbish as well - gets dumped on the sides of roads, rivers and ravines. What doesn't get dumped, gets burnt, submerging much of the country under a blanket of smoke haze.
That said, we had some memorable experiences - many good, and one bad which resulted in our early exit from the country.
We arrived by bus from Montenegro in the northern Albanian town of Shkodra and found our way with no problems to our small hotel. Our host, John, organised us a light but very tasty late lunch in the restaurant, after which we went for a walk in the town. There was a car free plaza full of cafes which we wandered down, and were struck by the number of men sitting in groups drinking coffee, smoking and talking. Practically no women. We found out later from our tour guide that unemployment is very high, but a lot have some sort of black market income. Someone is obviously making money there, because there are a lot of late model, upmarket Mercs, Audis and Beemers tooling around. We ate that night in the restaurant of our hotel, an old Ottoman building, very atmospheric, and I had a specialty of the house - Krap fish, and it's definitely not.
Next morning Susie and I decided to grab a couple of the free to use bicycles at the hotel and brave the roads. Shkodra is quite flat, so pedalling around is no problem and heaps of people do it, from young to quite old, and everyone rides along slowly on crappy old single speed grids with not a helmet to be seen anywhere. (Not even motor bike riders wear them.) After riding around the city for a bit, we ventured out of the CBD to the river, crossed it on an old timber bridge, through a very poor area with lots of Roma hanging about, and along the bank to where it empties into Lake Skadar. The ride by the water could have been quite nice and scenic if it wasn't for the piles of rubbish lying off the side of the road. The tragic thing is that the locals don't seem to notice it - it's just normal.
Another walk around town filled in the following morning until we met our Australian tour guide Gail and her Albanian partner and our driver, Ardi. Our fellow travellers were Valerie from England, young Canadian brothers Justin and Jonathan, and Ann, a Canadian teacher living and working in Tirana, the Capital. Off we went to a nearby town called Lezhe, where we drove out along a very long gravel road to a fish restaurant by Lake Skadar. The food was supposed to be great. It wasn't. It was just okay, but I had a good case of the runs that night, so maybe it wasn't even okay!
We followed lunch with a drive up into the nearby mountains to look at the little Church of St Anthony. Thousands of pilgrims walk from the valley up to this church and the nearby cave in which St Anthony used to devote himself to prayer. The walls of the cave are black and slippery with melted wax from candles lit by pilgrims.
Saturday Sep 24, we all piled into our VW Transporter and set off on a rough 2 hour drive on winding unmade mountain roads to the Koman Ferry. This old vehicular ferry starts near the wall of a Chinese built dam, and winds for a bit over 2 hours through spectacular water filled mountain gorges. Arriving at the dam wall on the dry side, we then had to drive through a kilometre long, single lane, rough hewn, unlit tunnel to the water side of the wall and the waiting ferry.
As soon as we emerged from the tunnel, all except Ardi left the vehicle and watched the loading. This was an hour and a half of thorough entertainment, as a half dozen guys yelled and gesticulated wildly at drivers of all manner of vehicle from large semi-trailer to micro car, cramming them into every available square foot of space. We finally left the dock with the very last vehicle, a small truck, parked diagonally across the slightly raised loading ramp.
Once unloaded at the other end, we had another spectacular 2 hour mountain drive to our day's destination, the beautiful mountain valley of Valbona.
It was a pity we only had one night in Valbona, because we loved the place. The valley is very narrow, hemmed in on both sides by high, rugged ranges. We stayed at a guest house run by Alfred, an Albanian who has travelled, his American wife Catherine, (A New Yorker would you believe!?), and their big mountain dog puppy Pongo. A violent electrical storm a couple of days before had knocked out the power to our rooms, but it didn't matter - we got by well with head torches and candles, and it all added to the atmosphere.
These guys are really trying to set an example for others in the country by recycling as much as they can (not easy in such a remote location), and keeping the place clean. They also farm their own trout, which were delicious on a plate for dinner!
We had a short walk along the river after our arrival mid afternoon, which was nice, but we all agreed a couple of extra nights would have been great to enable us to get some more walking in, and just appreciate the place more.
In the morning, Alfred's mum fed us a breakfast of champions before we headed off on another teeth rattling but very scenic mountain drive out of Albania and into Kosovo, passing through the very bustling and prosperous looking towns of Gjakove and Prizren, finally turning up at "The White House", a blindingly white replica of the real thing in manicured green lawns, for lunch. They love America in Kosovo and Albania because of the support and visit from George W a few years back. A long drive back into Albania and all the way to our hotel in Shkodra finished off this very long day of mostly driving, but it was interesting to see the difference between prosperous looking Kosovo and poorer, trashier Albania.
We had a visit to the 15th century Rozafa Castle next morning. Rozafa was the name of a woman who, legend has it, was bricked into the walls of the castle as a sacrifice to ensure the strength of the building. She was a young mother still breast feeding her son, so entreated the builders to leave holes in the wall for her breast, face and knee, to enable him to feed. There is a sculpture of this scene in the museum at the castle. Fact or Fiction? Who knows, but it's a good story.
Coming out of our parking spot on the top of the hill near the castle, Ardi put the right front wheel into a culvert with a crash, resulting in a torn tyre and bent wheel rim. Gail apparently warned him as he started forward, but he went ahead anyway, with an expensive result. I didn't think much about it at the time, as we boys all pitched in to change the wheel and get going, but this may have been a tipping point in rising tensions between Gail and Ardi. Gail being the boss of, and brains behind this fledgling tour outfit probably didn't sit will with Ardi's Albanian maleness, and her frequent chipping of him about his over ordering at dinners, occasional inattention while driving, and other things, served to build the tension. Worse was to come.
Heading south now to the capital, Tirana, we had a walk around the interesting bits before a fabulous "traditional Albanian" dinner at Era restaurant. Poor Susie missed this dinner, opting to stay in our hotel and try to sleep away a nasty bug she had caught, but it was great food, and a real change from the mostly bland offerings in Croatia and Montenegro.
Checked out the National History Museum next morning - pretty good - and then drove north to the town of Kruje, which was the home and headquarters of Albanian National Hero, Skanderbeg. Back in the 14th century, this guy rallied the Albanian people to a defense against the invading Ottomans, winning 23 of the 25 battles he fought against the invaders. There are memorials and sculptures of this guy all over the country, and a fearsome looking warrior he was, too. There was a replica of his sword in the memorial in Kruje, and it would take a strong man just to pick it up, let alone wield it effectively in battle.
There's another large statue in Kruje - of George W Bush waving to the multitudes, and a street named after him as well.
The highlight of this day, though, was a visit to the home of a typical Albanian family who run a small farm, mostly growing apples. Gail and Ardi had met them a few months previously, and they made us very welcome, taking us into their sparsely furnished but spotless home and treating us to their homemade Raki and brandied peaches. We were shown through their orchard and met their resident cow, who was almost ready to calf. Villy, the man of the house, goes to Italy for a few months each year, picking fruit, to top up the family finances. They didn't have much money, but made us feel like part of the family, and there were lots of smiles and laughs as Ardi interpreted and the Raki got passed around.
From there it was on to the pretty town of Berat (if you don't see the constant rubbish) and a late tour of the castle there. It was very late afternoon when we started with our guide, Valbona, and most of us were ready to go to our hotel, but you don't want to miss anything, do you? So off we went, finishing in the dark, which was actually quite dangerous with lots of steps and practically nil lighting. After dinner in the rooftop restaurant of our hotel, we crashed.
After a quick walk around the town in the morning, we again piled into the VW and headed south again, stopping just out of town at a winery named Cobo. We had drunk some of their very drinkable product a couple of nights before, so were keen to check out the winery. We were shown around the winemaking facility and then to the tasting room, where we sampled some very nice wines, best being an '07 red. After buying a few bottles we were heading for the VW when we stumbled on Grandpa and his still, making Raki. He gave us a sample. WHOOOWEE, talk about firewater! Must have been almost pure alcohol. The road then took us over a winding mountain pass with great views, and eventually to the coast again in the small beachside town of Himare, and our stop for the next 2 nights at a nice little family run hotel right on the beach. The water was beautiful, and I got in a couple of nice morning swims.
The next day we backtracked up the coast a bit to a side road near a canyon we had seen the day before. From the end of the road there was a rough track of about a kilometre leading down to the mouth of the canyon and a fairly rubbish free and deserted Gjipe Beach. We all dived in and swam along the cliffs, finding a nice little cave to swim into. On our walk back out we decided to do our bit for the "Clean Up Albania" campaign (they really could do with Ian Kiernan's help) and picked up 6 plastic bags full of cans and plastic bottles. A mere drop in the ocean, but at least we thought we had done something. We then stopped for lunch at a beachside cafe in a village called Dhermi, where I foolishly ordered a plate of grilled shrimp. The cook must have had a nap while they were on the hotplate I reckon, because they were incinerated. Ah, well.
Dinner that night was better - the boys went off to the local butcher and bought a selection of meat, which a mate of our hosts kindly bbq'd for us. Match it up with some salad, plenty of local wine and Raki, and there was a party going on! I noticed that Gail and Ardi were sitting at opposite ends of our long table during our dinner, but didn't think anything of it, and Gail was having a few drinks, which wasn't totally professional. Susie and Valerie, being more observant of these things, told me they had had a row, and weren't speaking to each other.
We left Himare for Saranda, further down the coast, at 1000 next morning, stopped at another 18th century castle for a look, then continued on, the road taking us high above the ocean. As the road started descending again into some hairpin switchbacks, Ardi cut the first one too sharply, finding gravel and lurching the tail out. We all made "take it easy" type comments, but he accelerated towards the next corner, braking late and hard and lurching around it, then hit the accelerator hard again towards the next hairpin. By this time the alarm bells were well and truly ringing and we were all screaming, "SLOW DOWN!" Ardi then mashed down on the brakes and brought us to a juddering halt just before the bend, turned to Gail and said, "This is all your effing fault! I told you not to effing touch the radio while I'm driving!" and carried on with more words in the same vein.
We managed to get him to proceed very slowly to a point past the next couple of bends, where we got him to pull over and we all got out. Valerie was in tears, Gail was in tears, and the rest of us were rather shaken up. He then launched into another tirade at Gail, then turned to us, telling all of us how it was all Gail's fault. It was a good five minutes before we could calm him down enough to shut up and listen to us. He finally began to understand that his personal problems with Gail were not the big issue, that he had recklessly endangered all our lives, and that we were not getting back in the van with him driving.
Thankfully, he handed over the keys, Justin was elected driver, and we proceeded calmly and quietly for the next half hour to our hotel in Saranda.
As soon as we stepped out of the van, Ardi pulled some clothes out of their bag, stuffed them in a plastic bag, muttered goodbye, and walked off up the street. Gail was in tears again and apologising for the whole affair, and Susie, Valerie and I knew our tour of Albania was over. Susie and I had intended to finish our tour in another 2 days, come back to Saranda and get the ferry to Corfu, but decided to bail out right there and get the boat that afternoon, and Valerie decided to come with us. Gail understood, and we all had a quiet lunch together before they dropped us at the ferry. The boys had decided to stay with Gail and continue the tour.
And so ended our tour of Albania.
