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Western Balkans '24

Agustus - September 2024
  • Ulrich Beinert
Petualangan 19-sehari oleh Ulrich Baca selengkapnya
  • Ulrich Beinert

Daftar negara

  • Yunani Yunani
  • Albania Albania
  • Montenegro Montenegro
  • Bosnia dan Herzegovina Bosnia dan Herzegovina
  • Kroasia Kroasia
  • Slovenia Slovenia
  • Austria Austria
Kategori
4x4, Wisatawan, Berkemah, Mobil, Alam, Fotografi, Penemuan jati diri, Perjalanan singkat, Perjalanan solo, Gurun
  • 6,7rbkilometer yang ditempuh
Sarana transportasi
  • 4x42.516kilometer
  • Penerbangan2.238kilometer
  • Mobil58kilometer
  • Pendakian43kilometer
  • Sedang berjalan11kilometer
  • Sepeda-kilometer
  • Sepeda motor-kilometer
  • Tuk tuk-kilometer
  • Kereta-kilometer
  • Bus-kilometer
  • Pekemah-kilometer
  • Kafilah-kilometer
  • Renang-kilometer
  • Mendayung-kilometer
  • Perahu motor-kilometer
  • Berlayar-kilometer
  • Rumah perahu-kilometer
  • Feri-kilometer
  • Kapal pesiar-kilometer
  • Kuda-kilometer
  • Berski-kilometer
  • Menumpang-kilometer
  • Cable car-kilometer
  • Helikopter-kilometer
  • Bertelanjang kaki-kilometer
  • 28footprint
  • 19hari
  • 103foto
  • 32suka
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Terbaru lebih dulu
  • Ulrich BeinertUlrich BeinertWestern Balkans '24

    Powerless

    29–30 Agu 2024, Montenegro ⋅ 🌙 22 °C

    With my belly full of delicious food, I drive to a campsite in the hills high above Kotor. But before I go to bed, I need to investigate a problem I noticed earlier when trying to fill my water bottle. The electric water pump hadn't started and I suspected I had damaged the makeshift power connection.

    A glance at my inverter shows me that my problem is more extensive. The status LEDs are off, meaning I seem to have a complete electrical failure. Fuck! This is just what I need, especially since I have all of my electrical equipment under the heavy kitchen insert in the back of my car.

    But I can't ignore this away, so I pull the kitchen onto my rickety camping table, hoping it won't collapse under the weight. Looking into the electrical compartment, I see zero lights. Everything is off. How can that be? I've got a separate battery, charged while driving, and additionally via solar or shore power. The battery lasts for days when it's full.

    Lacking a multimeter, I adjourn my troubleshooting and try to sleep. It's hot, the air is thick and motionless, and the howling canine concert transitions into a racket of roosters as the Earth spins into morning.

    Way before my time, I pack up at six o'clock and head for a car parts store in Budva. I make it 300 meters before I spot a campervan with its doors open. I stop and ask if they have a multimeter. No, they don't, but they're eager to help, offer me tea and we start troubleshooting together.

    Two hours later, we've found out using a simple currency tester that I do have car battery/alternator power reaching my camping power setup, but not charging the secondary battery, which is completely dead. Delimiting the possible points of failure is worth so much!

    With the kitchen is out once more, I've also decided to move all the electrical equipment to the rear seat. Makeshift again, but this needs to be easily accessible while traveling! And with the move, all of a sudden, the battery-to-battery device lights up and, motor running, starts charging the secondary battery! A loose wire?

    Newfound friends say their goodbyes and I continue my journey, soon to realize I've only partially solved the problem. Charging is only intermittent, barely enough to counter the current of the refrigerator. But at least my food is safe – for the moment.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Ulrich BeinertUlrich BeinertWestern Balkans '24

    Coffee Break

    30 Agustus 2024, Albania ⋅ ☁️ 21 °C

    I made it to Albania, a fast and uneventful border crossing. The battery charge is slowly increasing, with the solar panels I should be able to keep it at a constant level.

    Following the narrow road to Theth National Park, I avoid the Albanians stuck to the center of the pavement by hugging its edges, stopping for coffee at the pass before descending toward my destination.Baca selengkapnya

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  • Ulrich BeinertUlrich BeinertWestern Balkans '24

    Theth National Park

    30–31 Agu 2024, Albania ⋅ ☁️ 26 °C

    I don't know what Albanians are known for, but it's certainly not their driving skills. The roads to Theth National Park is a narrow strip of pavement, from which oncoming traffic has to swerve onto the adjacent strips of gravel to avoid a collision. Most drivers don't.

    Accordingly, I am glad to reach today's destination, a large flat campsite right next to the river. I've been told it's challenging to reach and indeed, there are some deep potholes in the steep dirt road. Probably the most extreme I've ever had with my Volvo – quite species-appropriate for the SUV that longs to see more than paved roads.

    The spot is stunning, I spend the afternoon bathing in the cold river, playing guitar and reading, before something quite unexpected comes wobbling down the path: an EXCAP expedition truck, the same model I own! I'm impressed that they made it down here – the potholes were no challenge for them, but an extremely narrow bridge. Every vehicle has its advantages and weak points.

    The family sets up camp next to me and we spend an evening by the campfire, sharing food, drink, stories and even electricity before once more drifting to sleep to the sound of water and crickets. This is what I live for!

    In the morning, my new acquaintances pack up – they are already on the way back home – while I settle in for a rest day. Lots of coffee, more bathing, more guitar, more reading and a late-afternoon hike...    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Ulrich BeinertUlrich BeinertWestern Balkans '24

    Theth Waterfall

    31 Agustus 2024, Albania ⋅ ⛅ 22 °C

    "Faccie di cazzo!" I think as six Italians noisily fall out of a 4x4 that just tore down the road to my campsite. The scantily clad men (and one woman) take their bluetooth boombox and head to the water, screaming to the bass like six lobotomized monkeys at an impromptu outdoor rave.

    Their car has a rooftop tent, not large enough for that many people, but I fear more tents will be pitched later in the afternoon. I can't take this. I am never okay with shit like this, but in a national park? "Faccie di cazzo!" Being an asshole is kind of like being dead. It's okay for you, but it sucks for everyone else.

    I move my planned hike forward and set out to Theth Waterfall. I had been warned to go early in the morning or in the late afternoon, thinking now would be fine. Still, I'm surprised when I round the last corner and see the sight that has become so typical with the popularity of Instagram.

    People are lining up at "that one spot" to take "that one photo". At this point, I'm thinking I should avoid any natural wonder that makes it into a travel guide, maybe even one that's marked on Google Maps. Definitely one that's an Instagram Hotspot. I climb up and away from the crowd, finding a spot overlooking the mayhem and reading a book until the majority has left.

    The waterfall *is* beautiful. I catch myself wishing I had it for myself, the arrogance of a tourist feeling better than "all those tourists". What if the same amount of people came here, but they were quiet, reverent even, in awe of the wonders of this planet? I think I'd be okay with that.

    What do they think? Am I the asshole to them? I remember something I noticed during Covid. There are two kinds of people in the world. Those who just want to be left alone and those who can't leave other people alone.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Ulrich BeinertUlrich BeinertWestern Balkans '24

    Life Happens For You

    31 Agu–1 Sep 2024, Albania ⋅ ⛅ 23 °C

    I had planned on staying at the last campsite another night, but my fears about the Italians were confirmed when I returned from the waterfall. I could hear them long before I could see them.

    A tent village, set up a stone's throw from my own pitch, on a 10.000 square meter meadow. Morons cutting down trees, living trees full of green, with an electric chainsaw. More music, more animalistic screaming.

    I'm used to fast decisions. In ten minutes, I had packed, not without murderous looks in the direction of the Italians. They knew why I was leaving. And so I even packed the firewood I had gathered and cut that morning. If you're this anti-social, I'm this petty!

    A quick bath in the river to wash off sweat and anger and I'm in the driver's seat, kicking up dust as I leave the hooligans behind. As I do, they turn to me, gleefully waving goodbye. Even my patience has its limits, so I roll down the window and answer their gesture with less ambiguity: my middle finger.

    I had wanted to make a short video of driving up the access road to the campsite - very borderline for my Volvo's ground clearance – but now I just wanted to put distance between myself and the Italians. It's as if I'd known that things were about to get a lot more borderline!

    Following the road deeper into the national park, I pass a few official campgrounds. But I want to be in the boonies. On my map, I see that I've passed the fork of the offroad trail to Përmet. Just this morning, I got the GPS trail from the family I spent the last night with. The track isn't completely Volvo-suitable, but now it helps me escape the tourist circus.

    I keep my eyes peeled for access to the river bed next to me and find it after about a kilometer. Will this work? A light tickling on the underbody – yes, the ground clearance is at its limit here. But it works!

    With the help of live surveillance video from above (my camera drone), I see live and in color which track will lead me to a level site next to the water.

    I climb out of the car, suddenly breathless at my luck. A stony river bed, surrounded by mountains, the first stars twinkling in the failing light of day – vistas I thought I'd only see once I got to Alaska – this is by far the most stunning campsite I've ever found.

    I almost feel sorry for the Italians that they didn't find such a beautiful site. Grazie, ragazzi!

    "You can only connect the dots looking backward." (Steve Jobs) You never know what good things will come from this bad moment. Don't let life happen to you, trust that it's happening for you.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Ulrich BeinertUlrich BeinertWestern Balkans '24

    The Blue Eye

    1 September 2024, Albania ⋅ ☀️ 18 °C

    At such a serene spot, a part of me wants to indulge by sleeping in and starting the day very slowly. On the other hand, there's the part of me that wants the famous Blue Eye for myself, alone, without any other people. I don't know *how* early you need to go, so I go *early*.

    Starting the hike right from my campsite in the riverbed, I pass a restaurant, where the terrace is just being set up for breakfast. Only locals working, no tourists. Yet. Another Albanian on the trail, later I'll see him at the little coffee bar close to the Blue Eye. Yes, they set up concession stands right next to their natural wonders. It's probable we'd see the same in the USA if the National Park Service hadn't been created to protect these places a century ago.

    There's a campground (tents only) right next to the Blue Eye. I thought a few campers might be earlier than me, but not a single tent is pitched. I'm alone. And wow! I can't remember ever having seen water this clear and blue! This is breathtaking and ... it's not the Blue Eye! After taking a selfie, I realize there's a sign nearby, pointing further up the trail. Oops!

    Three minutes later, I see it. Oh, okay! Yeah, this really is a blue eye. Almost perfectly round, even more blue, and ice cold. I'll wager the guess that the glacier water is about 5°C – perfect for a morning ice bath. And with no one around, I strip naked and walk right in. Ooh, it's been a while, and I've missed the cold. I think of Wim Hof teaching us to train our resilience in his crazy voice with the Dutch accent:

    "Go to the cold before the cold comes to you." The cold being vehicle papers forgotten at home, Italian hooligans and a host of other challenges yet to come...

    As I make my way back, the coffee shop is being opened and, almost at the trailhead, I meet the first hikers on their way up. It was a good choice, getting up early. The morning coffee in the riverbed tastes even better after such a sublime start to the day.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Ulrich BeinertUlrich BeinertWestern Balkans '24

    Caffeine Therapy

    1 September 2024, Albania ⋅ ☀️ 33 °C

    It's already been a week and I've just started exploring Albania. And Theth – I could have stayed much longer. Just in that one spot, in the middle of the river, in the solitude of the mountains. I'm getting the feeling this trip will just be a taste of Albania, a first look to get the lay of the land before coming back for a much longer time.

    The next stop on my list is far in the south of the country. I'm not keen on cities right now and many have told me to avoid the overrated coast. On the other hand, just about everyone raves about the canyons and I want to see them.

    So, as little as I want to sit behind the wheel after nearly 2000 km, today is a day for putting miles on the tires. Actually, less miles than you'd expect for seven hours. Progress is slow in Albania, most roads are limited to 80 km/h, and for good reasons (aside from the aforementioned lack of general driving skills, the condition of the roads is rather rustic). Only north of Tirana, there's a stretch of new highway with a speed limit of 130 km/h.

    It's hot. The air conditioning is either too cold, too drafty or not cold enough. My camping battery has stopped charging once more and I have a nagging headache. Caffeine withdrawal? Nearly five hours in, I pull out at a rest stop, take an aspirin and drink a cappuccino.

    As I roll further south, I start feeling better. Was it the pill or the coffee? I don't care, medication either way.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Ulrich BeinertUlrich BeinertWestern Balkans '24

    Canyon Decisions

    1–2 Sep 2024, Albania ⋅ ☀️ 28 °C

    As the day draws to a close, I reach the town of Çorovoda at the entrance to Osumit Canyon. I'm tired from the drive and so I miss the dirt road down to the bottom of the canyon the first time around. When I finally find it, I drive as far as I can go without getting my feet wet and wonder: Is the water shallow and slow enough to drive through?

    I forded the stream next to my campsite this morning – just for fun – and that was fine. The water here is a bit deeper and not clear, so I can't see the ground beneath it. My only real worry is that my tires will lose grip. I walk across the stream in multiple places and decide it's fine.

    And it is! Baby steps to 4x4 offroad skills, but I guess not many series XC60 live this kind of life. I continue into the canyon until I really can't (or won't) go any further. The spot is perfect! Hugging the canyon wall with the water rushing by, I build a campfire, cook dinner and play the guitar for the water, the rocks, and the few plants and animals that live down here.

    The next morning, I attempt to hike into the canyon, but from this point on, there are barely any rocks and mainly a very nasty, sticky kind of mud. I almost lose my shoes after a few meters and turn around before I get completely stuck. It's this journey once more teaching me good decision making. Not to keep pushing against better knowledge. There are other canyons in the world, just as beautiful, canyons that invite you into their heart and let you stay.

    I'm not talking about canyons anymore, I think.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Ulrich BeinertUlrich BeinertWestern Balkans '24

    Whipped Cream Made By Volvo

    2 September 2024, Albania ⋅ ☀️ 28 °C

    With my truck, the road to Çorovoda would be a dead end. The dirt track to Përmet has two bridges with a load limit of four tons, but for the light SUV presents a different challenge. I nearly miss the turnoff (I'm supposed to go *there*?!) with the sign advising against anything not 4x4.

    Okay, I've forded wild rivers, so this is okay, right? Right?

    One hour and twenty minutes for twenty kilometers. And not a single photo or video to show for it. This road never gets boring and demands my full attention. In dry conditions, it's no problem for the Volvo, and I assume the locals living in the remote mountain villages along the track call less of a car their own.

    But oh, the shaking and shocking and slipping ... it's called SUV but is it really built for this? I wonder what my mechanic friend will find when I get home.

    For now, I open my fridge and find ... whipped cream.    Baca selengkapnya

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  • Ulrich BeinertUlrich BeinertWestern Balkans '24

    Albanian Lunch

    2 September 2024, Albania ⋅ ☀️ 32 °C

    With a high degree of self-sufficiency and a preference for camping in the middle of nowhere, making my own dinner by firelight, I haven't eaten out much. But I love getting to know local food just as much as nature, and the completion of my first real 4x4 track is reason enough to have lunch in a restaurant, catching up on some travel writing in the welcome shade.Baca selengkapnya

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