Racking up the Odometer

We didn't leave Kotor as early as we should have. A 10:30 departure with obligatory stops simply doesn't cut it when you're driving through Albania, home to more excitement on the roads than you'll experience in the rest of Europe combined.

We left Kotor and drove up over a low pass, a shortcut to the coast which cuts off around 70km of driving. Here the coast changed character with very little of the terrain gently dropping into the ocean. More often than not the land gave way to the ocean in the form of extensive, chossy cliffs and bluffs. The road winds its way south, picking the easiest lines through the dramatic landscape.

A deserted beach by European standards

We stopped just south of the city of Budva after 45mins drive for a long swim, completely necessary when taking such a long break from the coast. At one point there's a sandy isthmus with a perfectly round island at the end, covered in historic buildings. We stopped to admire this but chose to back track to a different beach for its spectacular rocky coastline.

We quickly swam about 200m out from shore, looking for boats while examining the rocky islands with deep water underneath. We swam over to one and began to look for ways up. The rock was incredibly sharp. Steep (e.g. overhanging) climbing on rock like that is certainly a delicate task.

After basking in the sun floating in the impossibly warm water for a couple of hours it was time to move on. We headed south, deviating from the coast about 40km before Ulcinj and heading inland for the Albanian border. The roads quickly went from narrow but well maintained and quick to even narrower, potholed and used by herds or cattle. We were definitely getting close to Albania. 

The signs that you're getting closer to Albania

Near the border mosques were the focal point of towns, not churches, making the transition to Albanian culture and living standards even clearer. From the coast it took around an hour to the border crossing and we got through both Montenegrin departure processes and Albanian customs with no problem. We had heard stories that sometimes they will give you trouble so you will produce a bribe to make things go more smoothly but we encountered no such thing.

Things changed drastically once we were 10km past the border and towns began to emerge. Towns seemed much poorer. Every road was littered with many unsealed, potholed sections they seemed to have no intention of fixing. Herds of cattle randomly wandered on the roads. Over taking horse and carriages on the highway became a very normal situation.

After somehow driving down a very sketchy road through an equally sketchy neighbourhood we found our way to the northern city of Shkoder to draw out some local currency and buy food. This was an experience in itself. To draw money out it was necessary to approach the security guards guarding the banks for permission. Security was also positioned on electronic shops, gold exchanges and just about anything else selling items that are remotely valuable.

The city of Shkoder

How dogs sit in Albania

This city doesn't seem to have come too far since Albania shut down in 1997 and collapsed into an epoch of crime, lawlessness and lack of amenities. The power might be back on and supplies might be easy to find but the city at its heart seemed to be corrupt and in need of some serious cash injection. However, a large pizza cost all of about three Australian Dollars. I wasn't complaining about that. 

Albania is a majority Muslim country with a very distinct culture and language, making it an intriguing place to visit. The state of the roads seems laughable as do certain other aspects but the hospitality is unmatched. Within half an hour of being in Shkoder we had someone very persistently inviting us to stay in his home. We would have loved to do this but wanted to move into Kosovo that evening. When we refused he seemed rather offended, as if we had violated his pride. I had been warned previously about the guilt trips and plain expressions of dismay after turning down Albanian hospitality.

As we crossed the bridge leaving Shkoder kids hung off the adjacent rusty railway bridge and the road was laced in cattle faeces. At times Albania feels like a real third world country.

This also means its history is poorly protected and little of it is developed for toutists. If we had more time we would have checked out the fortress that sits above the city in ruins, completely undeveloped, waiting for the curious traveler that appreciates a “raw” experience.

Albanian countryside

We drove south and then east towards Kosovo on a road that I'd describe as being a little worse than the midlands. But here's the catch. The speed limit ranges from 40- 60km/ hour, accounting for the numerous herds of cattle and horse and carts. Driving in Albania is an experience in itself. I overtook countless animal powered enterprises. And this is Albania's A1 that links Shkoder, which was a rather major city, and Tirana, the national capital.

For some strange reason as we turned east the road became an autobahn with a 120 speed limit and remained like this the whole distance to Kosovo and beyond. It was beyond strange to see a road like this linking points of little significance in this part of the world. The road was spectacular too, winding through an arid valley with a silty river lining its floor, perhaps the most spectacular two lane highway I've driven on in Europe. 

Autobahns in Albania?!

Within an hour and a half on this road we reached the Kosovo border where a herd of cows was blocking the checkpoint. We used this opportunity to get out and buy car insurance for the country. No car insurance company outside of Macedonia and Albania insures their customers for Kosovo with a regular European green card. This checkpoint had a large line in which we waited for fifteen or so minutes but once at the booth we had no problems. Australians are lucky because they do not need visas to visit Kosovo.

They handed our passports back and we drove towards Prizren, an attractive looking historic city deep in Kosovo. Checking our documents we were disappointed to see we hadn't gotten stamps. It would have been nice to have a record of entering this little visited nation.

Kosovo is a country that scares most people away, their only knowledge of it being limited to the western news coverage of the landlocked nation's past troubles. Nowadays it largely remains stable, except for ongoing border disputes in the north of the country with the "bellicose state", Serbia. Even this will likely change in the future as the EU takes measures to pacify friction between Kosovo and its ethnic Serbian population. I felt privileged to visit Kosovo when I did, in the thick of dynamic and rapid evolution following its conception in the very near past. Kosovo is at a crossroads and seems to wear its heart on its sleeve, leaving the culturally rich but rather impoverished lives of its citizens in plain sight.

In Kosovo!

As we entered Prizren we came to a large open air market selling a huge variety of local produce. We stocked up on fruit from here. Nothing seemed to sell for over a Euro a kilo. Kosovo uses the Euro, perhaps alluding to their strong support for both the European union itself and the strongly linked European Development Bank which funds practically all of Kosovo's major infrastructure in exchange for the fulfillment of certain conditions. 

 

We headed up into the hills to get a view over the city, driving up cobblestone streets under dangerously low hanging electricity lines. Locals sit on narrow porches, practically on the street, watching the day pass by. Others visit neighbours, sitting on intricately patterned couches or cushions visible outside every house. Some stare after us. It isn't the kind of place you simply end up, they'd know everyone in the neighbourhood and were probably wondering who the hell we were. 

Kosovo is a little different. You see anything at all that has a motor holding its own on the roads as well as the typical livestock. The wiring in the streets is well.... crude. It drapes everywhere. Garden fences are sometimes made out of razor wire, likely at a surplus in Kosovo after its troubled past. Children play in the streets, stopping and waving to you as you pass. Two westerners in a Czech car with a kayak on the roof would certainly be a weird site for a Kosovan child. The place overall feels warm and very safe but you definitely feel out of place as a tourist. The whole time we were in the country I didn't spot anyone that resembled a tourist in the slightest. 

Prizren is a typical Ottoman influenced, terracotta roofed city. The centre rivals some of the cities I've visited elsewhere in Europe that attract throngs of tourists. Its simply beautiful if you can look past how literally everything is emptied into the river. That's not a Kosovo problem though, its a Balkans problem. We walked amongst the narrow streets, towered over by minarets and lined with the Ottoman style lattice-like wood work before stopping to get a drink by the main square, not far from the bridge where we watched the building glow orange and the last of the light fade from the sky. We had been in three countries today alone. Montenegro, Albania and now Kosovo. 

With the creation of their country a mere six years ago Kosovans are a very proud people