The Albania the World Sees

We didn't think we'd be seeing Berat again...

We popped out on the coast near the city of Vlorë. The e with the umlaut on top is a common feature in Albanian and seems to make the "a" sound as heard in Romance languages. The language is unique, sitting in a family of its own, its cognates with English supposedly coming from Latin as it was spoken almost 2000 years ago. As the Germans advised we returned to Berat, drove to Fiore then went to the coast, using only the best of Albania's roads, much more suitable for two-wheel drives but still confronting for anyone accustomed to the roads of the west.

We drove south under clear blue skies, wanting to put some distance behind us after the previous night's and that morning's “mishap”. It was hard to believe we got out of a situation like that, 30km from the nearest town and in a very mountainous landscape, so easily. By then we were almost laughing about it. Only in Albania.

Reminders of Albania's communist past

Later on someone we were talking to was able to make one very profound remark about his country. “Broken roads, broken car.”

We crossed a pass on a narrow road that was some 1500m high. The air at the top was a complete contrast to the stifling dryness of the coast. The clouds hung low. A breeze blowed. The air was slightly moist. I hadn't felt weather like that in weeks, probably since my solo mountaineering trip in Slovenia.

Small models of churches. A weird but ubiquitous feature in Macedonia and Albania

The ocean and the land were a jigsaw, a solid wall of ultramarine against the jagged cutout of ochres and sepias. We spent our first night camped out under the shelter of an olive grove, metres from the Adriatic. 

I won't say much about our remaining time in Albania. We spent a lot of time swimming, enjoying the piers and sheltered coves with deep water underneath. We camped in several wall-less buildings, an ubiquitous feature of the Albanian landscape due to lack of funds to finish them. Our driving skills improved dramatically. We learned new places where the hazard lights can be used and how the horn is a tool of polite, safe driving, not of anger like in most of the world. We just relaxed. Awaiting that day, the 17^th, where we would have to be in the northern port of Durres to catch an 11pm ferry to Bari, an overnight journey. 

The Albanian riviera, as the call the section of coast south of the aforementioned pass, is a beautiful but sterile place. Other than bunkers the only sign of history I saw between the pass and Sarandë was a fortress on a round strip of land at the end of an isthmus. The Albanian riviera is a playground, lined by almost solely modern apartments, eateries and beach resorts.

By European standards it's a well kept secret. And you can still find places few people go. But compared to Australian beached it feels very crowded. The place is fun and exciting for a short time but I think with more time I'd realise just how culturally deprived it is, how culture is being buried by the natural attractions of the area and the profit that can stem from it.

Yet more prime real estate going to waste. Well until we arrived...

We camped in a field on our last night in the country, a quick choice owing to the lateness of the hour. Despite it turning out to be private land the owners rewarded us with over three kilograms of peaches and plums the following morning, yet more testament to the warmness of Albanian hospitality.

Albania in one picture

On our last day we entered Durrës. Durrës is a bustling commercial hub, again lacking any kind of historic centre. It puzzles me as to why there seems to be so little history in coastal Albania. I drew out some money to fund a tank of fuel at Albania prices, having to ask permission from two stone-faced, machine gun clad guards to use the ATM. Crime is a major problem in Albania.

I felt sad to be leaving in a way. Sad to be leaving somewhere where the people and climate were so warm and everything is ridiculously affordable. A kebab costs all of about a euro to a euro and a half. As long as you don't eat near the water and hunt a round a little it'd be quite possible to eat out three times a day for five odd Australian dollars and still have some money left to buy fruit to snack on. 

I stood in the shallows of the main city beach, watching the sun form an orb, light up the ocean and sink into the sea. As eleven came closer we drove to the ferry, got our hard copy tickets and boarded well before departure. We found a very comfortable, isolated lounge and spread ourselves out.

I watched the lights of Albania disappear from the rear deck. I went back inside because it was after twelve at night and laid down to try and get some sleep. It seemed surreal knowing I was going to wake up in Italy.