The past two weeks have seen us traverse from the Albanian riviera down south, up to the Albanian alps in the north. We didn’t quite know what to expect in Albania, and we have been so wonderfully surprised along the way.
Albania was a communist country from the end of world war two until the early nineties. From 1975 onwards, Albania had cut ties with its communist allies, closed its borders, and was one of the most isolated countries in the world. Similarly to our time in Cambodia, we can feel how recent the history is. However, Albania is also a country finding its footing in the modern world of European tourism, and we can see how it is preparing for its relatively newfound international interest. We’ve felt an odd sense of pre-nostalgia during our time here, as we can see how it's on the cusp of change, and many moments we have now won’t be there in a few years’ time. I am simultaneously excited for the people in Albania who will benefit from an influx of tourists, and selfishly grateful that we have had the chance to be here now.
We’ve slowly adjusted to the very cash heavy life. Mysteriously, all of the eftpos machines in Albania have been besieged by various faults, and have all simultaneously “stopped working”. Even more mysteriously, the shop owner may have a cousin whose eftpos machine will work, but only if someone isn’t able to pay enough in cash and is about to leave (but only for the shortfall that you can’t cover with cash). All joking aside, high bank fees and low trust in the government’s use of tax money has made for a country that is hungry for cash. We were not used to carrying so much cash, as we had to make large withdrawals, thanks to the high ATM fees across Albania. Added to that, the small village of Theth didn’t even have an ATM (it was being installed while we were there), so ATM timing became even more of a sport for Jerry. While Jerry tied himself in knots over how to spend the least possible amount of money on ATM fees, I instead began to feel like Albanian lek was monopoly money, because it doesn’t count when it’s cash, right? (No, apparently not right).
I last left you in Sarandë, with Jerry and I spending our days lazing on the beach. I am sure there is so much more we could’ve explored in Sarandë, but we desperately needed the chance to slow down. No regrets - I know we’ll look back fondly on our little holiday from fulltime travel.
After our days in Sarandë, it was time to head inland, to Gjirokastër. We made our way to the bus stop, ready to experience taking the bus in Albania for the first time. Albanian buses, or furgons, have been an adventure. In most other parts of the world, we have been able to book our transport online. Even in Vietnam and Cambodia, where we thought we might need to book in person, we were able to use 12Go for our longer or more popular routes. In Albania, that was not the case. You turn up to the bus (there may be a timetable, but no guarantee), you wait for the bus to fill up, and then you go. We young people are used to everything being accessible online, much to the amusement of our Albanian hosts. While we were sceptical about this experience, it worked pretty seamlessly for us on our journey. But it wasn’t without its chaotic moments.
In Albania, anywhere can be a bus stop. And, on our bus trip between Tirana and Krujë, everywhere was a bus stop. Why get off at your neighbour’s house if you can stop at your front door? I truly think we stopped every 30 metres between the two points, for someone to hop on or off. On some of our bus rides, stools were set up in the aisle on the vans, for extra passengers squeezing on once all the seats were gone. If there was a space, that meant the bus was not full yet. There was usually one half of the seatbelt, which I can only assume was kept as decoration, since no seat seemed to have both sides.
Having less information available online might have been a challenge for us, if it weren’t for all the directions. Giving directions is a love language of Albanian men, and we have been showered with love. No less than 5 men gave us directions to the bus station in Gjirokastër. We are grateful, even if it was just one straight road to the bus station 😅 These directions came in handy when a group of construction workers ushered us through their construction site, reassuring us that we were on the right route to Ali Pasha bridge. Similarly, when we tried to find the public bus into town in Tirana, we were lucky to have the bus ticketing officer scour the bus for someone going to the same stop as us, to make sure she babysat us until it was time for us to get off. Could we get lost? Not likely, an Albanian man would spring from the earth to tell us the way.
Gjirokastër is a pretty town in southern Albania, set on a hill. It was the birthplace of the communist leader, Enver Hoxha. There is some speculation that his love of his hometown is why so much of the old town is preserved, with its stone buildings and large castle on the top of the hill.
Gjirokastër was our favourite spot to try a range of traditional Albanian food, including Qifqi (rice balls), Byrek (pastries), stuffed peppers, dolma, and grilled vegetables.
The central bazaar was pretty for photos and window shopping, but I was particularly enamoured by the ladies selling their textiles and embroidery up the paths to the castles. Somehow, I found myself buying a very affordable, beautiful, handmade tablecloth. Was it my most sensible purchase? Definitely not, but Jerry is just relieved I’ve moved on from trying to buy objects made from solid brass.
One sunny day, we enjoyed the short hike out to Ali Pasha bridge. Despite the midday heat, we enjoyed the peace, as it was just us, a million humming insects in the wildflowers, and the gentle ring of the bells tied to the goats as they munched their way across the hills.
The path we took led us to the foot of the bridge. Jerry decided he didn’t want to clamber his way to the top, but I was possessed with the bravado of a 17 year old boy, and decided I definitely could make it up there. This newfound confidence faltered when I realised halfway up that no, I probably couldn't clamber back down that way. I had failed the number one lesson you learn as a child tree climbing - don't climb up if you can't get down. Luckily the goatherds must not want to clamber any more than necessary, so there was another route cut into the hillside. I met Jerry back along the valley, with some reassurance that I’d calm down on the machismo.
From Gjirokastër, we made it north to Tirana, the capital of Albania. I’ll be honest, we had low expectations for Tirana. I’m not certain where these expectations were formed, as we had zero justification for them. Tirana has embraced its brutalist communist style in a fun and quirky way, with creative art pieces and contemporary architecture springing up all around the city. It also had beautiful tree-lined avenues in its centre. Maybe because we’ve usually only visited European cities in winter, we’ve developed an obsession with parks and green spaces while travelling this year. Plus, Tirana’s coffee scene is fantastic. It felt like every second shop was a coffee shop, and sipping an espresso while smoking a cigarette is the favourite Albanian pastime. We gleefully indulged (sans the cigarette), and I've been hopped up on caffeine ever since.
Because we were fairly clueless about the history of the entire Balkan peninsula, we’ve been doing our best to piece together the history while we’re here. We explored the Cold War Tunnel in Gjirokastër, one of the bunkers that was built for Enver Hoxha and government officials. Following Albania’s split from the USSR, Hoxha became very paranoid that Albania would be invaded or targeted in a nuclear war. Hence the 175,000 bunkers built across the country. To give some perspective on how the people of Gjirokastër feel about the tunnel, I’ll share the words from our straight shooting guide:
“The population hated this tunnel. It was never used. It was only for the dictator’s paranoia. This money could have helped the population. But now we are happy, because you all like it. So finally it gives the money back to us.”
We visited the House of Leaves, which was the hub of secret surveillance in Albania.
There, we learnt about the atmosphere of fear, where any person deemed a ‘threat’ to the regime could be interrogated, tortured, or imprisoned. If the threat to yourself was not enough of a deterrent, they would exile your entire extended family as well.
“You had no idea who they were. But you knew they were everywhere. It could be your father, your brother, your teacher, or anyone else. They worked their regular jobs while also being members of the Sigurimi. They told the government what they heard” - Arben Zeneli
We also joined a walking tour in Tirana, with another young guide, who grew up as Albania joined the modern world. I loved how openly he shared, not limited to:
The first time his dad tried a banana. You can imagine, if you’ve never seen how to eat any tropical fruits, how would you know to take off the skin first? Apparently there was much upset when people began to buy expensive imported fruit, only for it to taste disgusting.
The protests when the government built the entrance to BunkArt 2 (a museum about communism in Albania) and the people thought there were even more bunkers being built.
How the people in Sarandë were told propaganda that the lights remained on in Corfu because the poor Greek people had to work nonstop, day and night.
But mostly, I loved his earnest hope for Albania’s future.
From Tirana, we visited Krujë, and stayed in a guesthouse inside the old castle ruins. We had the most incredible view of the mountain from our room, which also meant we got the best view of a wild storm blowing in. As the thunder boomed, the rain lashed the windows, and the hail pelted the roof, we hunkered down, with no power for a few hours. It was the perfect opportunity to cosy up, talk about the past few months, and read our books. It also gave me the chance to wear my new snuggly knitted socks.
While in Krujë, we found Mandy walking the street with her mum, Brigitte. Mandy had been on the same walking tour as us in Tirana. We stopped for a coffee, and spent the afternoon chatting about Mandy’s travel plans, Brigitte’s new historic manor in Brittany, France, and sharing some of our travel experiences from the past few months. It was one of those wonderful afternoons that disappears before you know it, thanks to lovely company and easy conversation.
Our northern stop was Theth, a remote village in the Albanian alps. After another fun bus trip (labelled as being “2-4 hours”, which was an ominous start…), we wound our way into the valley, to the quaintest little village, complete with shaggy sheep grazing as they pleased.
Theth has several guesthouses, with bed and board. We loved the dinners in our guesthouse, where we got to chat with other travellers who were hiking in the Albanian alps, and joke with our host, who did not let limited English get in the way of his incredibly expressive conversations. After each meal, we were filled to the brim and then some. We had to take evening walks along the dark village roads, since we were too full to sleep.
Our time in Theth was filled with beautiful hiking, and chilly waterfall swims. Earlier, when planning this part of the trip, we had chosen not to do the through hike from Valbonë to Theth, since it was early in the season and we didn’t want to have to store our bags. Instead, we hiked from the Theth side up to Valbone peak, and back down into the Theth valley. We were still rewarded with the most incredible views of both valleys from the top, and I even got pulled into a surprise proposal!! When the guy asked me to take a photo of them together, I was just focusing on not dropping their phone off the side of the cliff, but I’m proud to say I managed to switch to video, capture the moment for them, and stayed quiet even though I was expiring from excitement.
A more gentle joy was also had when we shared our packet of biscuits with the family who live on the mountain and run a coffee stop about three quarters up. Apparently, our one euro biscuits were a new treat for the family, made up of three generations of women (including a very cute toddler, who could have demoed that packet herself!). In retrospect, we so wish we had more treats to share with them, but shared smiles, a packet of biscuits, and a toddler who loves chocolate can make for a wonderful time.
While in Theth, we passed a major travelling milestone, making it to six months of full-time travel. I can’t believe it has been six months. The time has flown by, but at the same time, so much has happened since we took that first Air New Zealand flight in December. Hiking to Valbonë peak was a great chance for us to spend nearly 7 hours reflecting on memories from the past six months. A big takeaway is that so much of the joy in this trip has been in the little moments. Don’t get me wrong, our big bucket list dreams have been incredible cornerstones of this trip, but we find ourselves more often reminiscing about train rides through Europe with the McElliTucker team, endless cups of apple tea at Rafik’s restaurant in Göreme, karaoke nights and claw games with Miwa and Janina, and communal dinners at our homestay in rural Vietnam.
For our final stop, we spent a few nights in the pretty lake town of Shkodër, where we stayed in a hostel. The hostel was run by lovely, helpful people, and was a great spot if you were wanting help with booking transfers for the Valbonë Theth hike. It had a shared kitchen, which we always love, and even had a coffee machine! Despite these great amenities, it was also a somewhat brutal reminder that we are ill equipped for some elements of hostel life. The free raki shots available at any time of day might have been a warning sign that we were out of our depth. As one lovely 21 year old put it at the coffee machine, “it’s nice that you still feel like you can be a part of the hostel vibe, even if you’re like, married and older”. Out of the mouths of babes. I indulged in a few free raki shots myself, probably just to prove I could, but at 2am, as the floor vibrated with the bass and many people tried to break into our room to vomit (we were unfortunately located right next to the bathrooms, and our door looked a lot like the bathroom door apparently), I remembered that maybe I am old, and happy about it. Take me back to my communal dinners in Theth, thanks.
It was time to say goodbye to Albania, and head north into our next Balkan country, Montenegro. While we weren’t brave enough to drive in Albania, we have hired a rental car to explore some of Montenegro’s national parks.
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