Albania, Albania… It Borders on the Adriatic

Albania

(On you-tube, look up Coach from Cheers, singing the Albania song, assuming you don’t get the reference in the title of this post, because you are not older than dirt.)

 

Sitting in our penthouse apartment in Sarandë, I am enjoying the view of Corfu, Greece in the distance. We actually got so close to Greece yesterday that T-Mobile gave us each the “Welcome to Greece!” text. Mark’s phone keeps switching the time ahead one hour to match Greece’s time zone. Does this mean I’ve been to Greece now? No, it doesn’t. But we did walk amongst some pretty impressive Ancient Greek ruins in Butrint yesterday. It is not my fault that Butrint is now part of Albania. Mark went to high school for four years in Greece. He has also been there quite recently with his family. So he has seen a lot of Greek ruins. But he was very much impressed with Butrint. So I guess we scored. Over three thousand years of occupation by Greeks, Romans, Ottomans, Normans, Venetians, Albanians and a bunch of others and yet much of it was still standing. Apparently the bay it hugged and the easy access to Corfu made the now uninhabited peninsula an extremely important strategic city for millennia. Who knew?

Mark really enjoyed the ancient Greek ruins of Butrint

The theater was in unbelievably good condition

Greek writing from 2500 years ago.

Butrint is quite near the tourist beach town of Ksamil, Albania. We walked the Ksamil streets some and had dinner in a wonderful traditional restaurant that doubled as a museum. Best meal I have had on the entire trip. Fantastic flavors. I figured I would like Albanian food, as it is very much a Mediterranean cuisine. But I did not anticipate loving it as much as I do. Albanian food? Again, who knew? 

Ksamil treated us right.

Especially the head chef who was doing her thing out in the open.

One thing that I found fascinating was the route south from Butrint. There is a small channel that connects the bay of Butrint to the Adriatic. If you want to go south from the Butrint peninsula you either have to cross this channel or drive back north and do a loop that will take an extra hour. But in order to cross, you have only one option. There is a “ferry” which you load your car onto that is really nothing more than a few planks of wood literally pulled to the other side by a cable and winch setup. Men on either side operate it all day long and it is simply not available for twelve hours a day. It holds up to four cars. You wait your turn. Bridges? We don’t need no stinking bridges! Thankfully we did not need to go to Greece and really, there is nothing else south of that channel. I am not sure Luka would have stayed afloat. Though we did see a pretty large van on the "ferry".

Seems pretty "sketchy". At least that is what Quincy called it.

As I said, we are staying in Sarandë. It is also a beach town filled with more tourists than locals. There are SO many people out and about. Seriously, at 11:00, the party seems to just be getting started. I understand that the bars and restaurants are hopping. But little kids are running around, and eating ice cream and getting henna tattoos. And all the normal stores are still open and busy. The barbershops have lines at midnight. The grocery stores have all of their checkout lines going strong after midnight. It is Sunday night, people! Don’t any of you have to work tomorrow morning? Apparently not. Everyone is either a tourist, or a local who only works nights and not the day shift, in order to cater to the partying tourists. Most, or at least half of the tourists are also Albanians though. So it feels like they are all locals. But I guess, not really.

The view from our apartment was spectacular.

And the streets are crazy. It took us nearly half an hour to drive two kilometers, all the while dodging cars, pedestrians, Vespas, electric scooters and construction vehicles of all shapes and sizes. Luka was not meant for these roads. Heck, bicycles were not meant for these roads. I had a little scrape-up trying to turn the very last corner into our driveway. Thankfully we have the super-primo insurance from Alamo. But that is all we shall speak of that. I want to change Luka’s name to Bruno from here on out, because I am told we don’t talk about Bruno. But I have been out-voted, so Luka he shall remain. Luka was not meant for residential garages either. Seven, nine, or even eleven point turns on crazy hills with a stick shift have been routine. Hopefully the bigger cities will treat us better than the smaller ones. The views here are expansive. The roads, not so much.

The view in the daytime was pretty sweet as well.

Sadly, we are spoiled as Californians. The beaches here are rocky instead of sandy. Trash is everywhere, even on the beaches and in the water. So most of us are partaking of the Adriatic, as it has been over 100 degrees here for two days, but we could be enjoying it more. I am certain the private beaches owned by the hotels are better, but we booked an eighth floor apartment because there are six of us, and we like having a communal living area and a kitchen. So rocky beaches it is. But the view from up here is spectacular. Did I mention our view? :)

Mark couldn't get out of the way in this Sarande Beach shot. I'm too quick on the draw.

Unofficial "no parking" signs are everywhere, but have little effect.

We booked a five hour boat tour that was supposed to take us to less traveled beaches and islands and such. It was meant to be the one activity that would allow us to appreciate all the Albanian Riviera had to offer. We were all ready go, sunscreen applied, cash and snacks and water bottles in hand, when the tour operator called us and told us that no boats were to leave the harbor all day due to inclement weather conditions. I guess the waves were a bit choppy, but it was still far more calm than anything we were used to from the open ocean. So we couldn’t understand the seeming over-abundance of caution, but that didn’t matter. No boat trip for us. So a lazy day in the apartment was the ticket. At least we went to another fantastic restaurant for lunch, with excellent vibes and great food. The owner came out to chat with us. He eventually gifted us three free rounds of shots, after dessert, with his homemade hooch. One of them tasted like fire to me, but the limoncello was awesome. Needless to say, he got a five star review from from us on google. And free advertising on my blog! That ought to reach millions! HERA restaurant. Place to be.

Free limoncello shots after lunch.

We are still smarting from the wax-off that Macedonia gave us upside the collective face. We had to eat the price of one night of lodging, but at least we got refunded for the second night in Ohrid. I really wanted to see the lake. It looked like Tahoe on steroids from the pictures. But no Ohrid for us. Instead, we spent one night in Kukës, as I said at the end of the last post, and then one day and night in Durrës as it was about halfway to Sarandë. They like their umlauts around hërë. Durrës was nothing special. But we walked the town walls and admired the Venetian tower and the Roman amphitheater and what little else there was other than a tourist promenade and a billion bars. Really it was just a makeshift stopover to fill the void with which Ohrid left us. 

Roman ruins in Durrës

Don't know why, but we found rocker ruins in Durrës as well. We guessed Tina Turner, John Lennon, Bob Dylan, and Mick Jagger. But there was no explanation as to why these statues are here at all.

Another Durrës shot. Guess we enjoyed it more than I let on.

I guess I am trying to think of ways to adjust my thinking about the Macedonia fiasco, and that Ohrid void. Rather than be bitter about how it turned out, maybe I should be grateful about how it turned out. I mean, here I am living it up in the penthouse in a beautiful beach town just days after I was told in no uncertain terms that I would be “detained against my will” if I took another step forward. I’d say it “turned out” pretty well. And that blown tire was a blessing as well. Because of that episode, rather than being bitter about having to turn back and retrace four hours worth of driving, we were absolutely ecstatic to get back to civilization and didn’t care one bit about which direction civilization was. 

We are, however, now back on the path that we always meant to take. Sarandë was on our itinerary from the get-go. We also checked out Ksamil and Himarë, two other beach towns, and are happy with our choice. A couple of days of downtime here have helped morale considerably. We are prepped for the long drive to the northern edge of Albania. We may have to take the long way back along the coast, as there has been a raging wildfire in the Delvinë region, which is precisely where we had intended to drive through tomorrow. They say it is mostly contained at this point. But there is still a whole lot of smoke coming over the mountain behind us. It does make for a colorful sunset. If the fire really is out, we may still get to take the shorter inland route, but we will have to wait for news tomorrow. But the mere fact that we head north tomorrow means that we are halfway through our trip. We have been to every country on the list, and now we get to drive back through most of them to complete the loop. Hopefully border crossings will be smoother from here on out. And I’d say, for the most part, the trip has been a success.

A very new six-mile-long tunnel cut the driving time by over an hour.

The waiter in this beautiful restaurant in Himarë was funny. When Michelle asked him about parking, worried that the attendant wasn't there, he told us that in Albania there is a saying: "Don't be more Catholic than the Pope". In other words, you worry too much. If he's not there, parking is free. 

The Albanian coastline is gorgeous. This was just a why-not stop on the side of the road.

As we were leaving Sarandë, we still didn’t know for sure whether the road was open to get out the fast way. We had just decided that we’d better not risk it and should take the long way (the way we’d come - maybe 80 minutes longer) when the guy who we rented the apartment from got back to us and told us he was sure the road was clear. It was literally no more than thirty seconds before we hit the intersection where we would have gone the other way when he texted. It was karma making up lost ground. At the gas station, a few minutes later, the servicemen pumping our gas confirmed the good news. The road was clear. So off we went. It did not mean the fires were all put out. We got to see a lot first hand. It looked pretty bad. But the path was open.

Smoke on both sides of the road, but the path was wide open.

The rest of the trip north was easy-peasy. A few accidents ahead slowed us down but not too much. We stopped for lunch at a roadside restaurant that ended up being another awesome meal in Albania. We passed through a very cute little town, called Lezhë, that I would have loved to investigate further, but we had to make it to Shkodër in time for Carol to start work. Can’t see it all.

(Remy would like to make sure that I blog about jug wine and Bananagrams. If I do not mention both things at this point, then my blog will be dead to her. So a shout out goes to the incredibly inexpensive Albanian jug wine, and to Remy’s favorite game, which has been played a lot on this trip. There. I’ve done my duty. I apologize for the non-sequitur. I was just not certain how to incorporate these two things into the narrative.)

We are now about fifteen minutes south of Shkodër, staying in a farmhouse in the Albanian countryside that Carol picked out just yesterday, deciding to cancel the reservation I made in town. She was ready for some non-city vibes, and I cannot fault her one bit. She made the right call. This place is dripping with charm. I will include a good many pictures since it is so full of character, but it is hard to capture the atmosphere in photos. When you are outside in the garden, near the working well, listening to the sheep and the goats and the chickens, you feel like you have jumped back in time a few centuries. But inside you have all the comforts and conveniences of the present even though it feels like living inside a hallmark afternoon television special. Our collective blood pressure has dropped about twenty percent.

The bedroom is charming.

Carol enjoyed the swing in the front garden.

The Allens dig the place as well.

We went to dinner at an Agriturismo establishment. They had a set menu that included no fewer than fifteen different dishes. The food just kept on coming, and we swore we couldn’t eat another bite, but we did anyway because it was all so delicious. Mark got to eat about eight different organ meats (both chicken and veal) as that is the local delicacy. Only Quincy really liked them other than Mark. But there was so much food that not eating that single dish of organ meats didn’t cramp anyone’s style. Mark would be chalking that meal up into his top ten all time favorite meals if it wasn’t for the two cats (really one kitten, and one cat) that kept begging for scraps. Mark is not a cat fan. I thought they were super cute.

Taken from our table at dinner.

A common sight around here. But fun every time.

Kitties wouldn't take no for an answer at dinner. Michelle tried dumping her water on them to make them go away, as both Mark and Quincy are allergic to cat hair. But I enjoyed them.

The next day we drove into Shkodër itself. The town was an absolute zoo. Cars were double-parked with regularity. We spent about a half an hour driving around looking for a place to park, and eventually just gave up and drove on. But we did check out the fortress on the top of the hill just south of town, called Rozafa Castle. And that was glorious. It was huge. We walked around it for well over an hour. Maybe close to two. And we probably would have spent more time there, but it started to rain pretty hard, so we sought shelter back inside Luka.

Rozafa Castle from below

Inside the walls

A view of Lake Shkodra in the distance

The views were fantastic for 360 degrees.

One more shot for good measure.

There is a legend about the castle, where three brothers were trying to build the castle for months, but it continued to collapse every night after building it by day. So they decided to sacrifice one of their wives, by burying her alive under the castle, to win favor with the gods. Her name was Rozafa. She did not protest, she only requested that space be left so that she could breastfeed her child until she died. Crazy. But I guess the gods were appeased, because the castle stood for a couple thousand years.

Art work in the castle museum depicting the legend of Rozafa

We also visited an extremely old Ottoman Empire built bridge just for giggles. It was quite cool, but nothing to write home about. So I am going to stop writing about it, and let the pictures do the talking. In fact, I am going to stop writing completely, and call this the end of the post. We got through the border into Montenegro with no problems. So new country, new post. 

Old school cool.

Different angle including the crew.

Really sorry about the font changes. I don’t understand what is going on. I am doing nothing, but the darn site is spitting out new fonts every other sentence. Annoying as hell. I have stopped trying to fix it, because the effort involved just isn’t worth it. But I am sorry.