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Albania is a place where you don’t trust most tap water. Not any water unless you actually see it squirting fresh out of the mountainside. It does in places and people stock up. Albania can’t afford EU standards just yet. But it’s the most authentic, open hearted place so far. The countryside is mountainous and polluted in places but if you squint to overlook the trash, it’s as pretty as anywhere. Biking down the coast, food prices got even cheaper than Croatia and Montenegro.
Stayed at the secret beach two nights, danced, hiked and swam but it was time to go. Paid the Toyota pickup driver €15 to drive 2 km back up the wash to the road. Worth every cent. See video.
There was the next 1000m climb then sunset in Mursi, Albania. As a note, very second the EU cell phone SIM card, and I, crossed into Albania my phone turned into a brick. No maps, no fine dining, no weather, no campsites. Getting late, real burnt and nowhere to hide to sleep to called over the chicken wire fence to a woman for advice. Not understanding a word of English, the next step was the pantomime. Fingertips touching together pointing for the peak of a tent sign. Then palms together sideways for the universal sleeping sign. Then deliver the wanting hangdog look and people understand in any language. The husband was called out and he answered with the equally universal “ C’mon on in!” arm sweep.
Charades is even funnier in Albanish. We watched the domestic low budget versions of Who Wants to be a Millionare? (In Albanian Leks I guess) and Wheel of Fortune (no Pat or Vanna). We all ate well the fish he caught and the vegetables they were given. They had the one upstairs room for dining and bed and the downstairs for cooking and sanitary and where I slept that night. They were happy and generous and said no money. But I don’t always listen.
Next night, same lack of tech wherewithal. Landed at the Shrine of Saint Barbara just before a rain. The sextant stopped by after a couple hours and I got the treasured permission to stay the night. What I didn’t realize was a lot. A regional shrine means people really come all day and night to donate, light a candle and pray. Among those is always a “scolder” who seems to delight calling out petty infractions. Had one of those in the middle of the night that needed set straight. I had the foresight to snap a picture of me with the sextant for proof but he got tired of debating first. I get the same type all day regarding road lane discipline where there isn’t a shoulder or even much road at all. Sometimes I get it even as to where the bike should locate when stopping at a fruit stand. These folks are not American level aggressive just for the pleasure of confrontation. They just seem interested in keeping their public universe in order.
Next night, knackered again. Snuck off an intersection back up an access road. Sixteen beehives minding their own business and I did the same. Did you know they all come home at night and sleep together? The next working day doesn’t start until the sun hits the box then it’s - game on!
Blazing colorful roadside wildflowers double in return the hope lost by seeing the things humans do.Read more