Albania

Hello all, we both wrote our individual blogs and they realised they were very similar, so enjoy this mash up of our joint and individuals thoughts. Cheers!

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J: Albania, where to start and what to say – too many words to put into the written format (at least for now). Albania is one of the most interesting and memorable places I have ever been, not always for good reasons, but usually so. Our journey started in the capital of Tirane, after this we head south to Ksamil, back north to Himare, further north to Shkoder and finally east to Shala River. A quick tip if you ever go, perhaps head to Corfu then ferry across from there, otherwise you need to take the less linear, and more tiring route, like we did.

H: I had no expectations of Albania. To be honest, I didn’t know much about the country or its history. I was a bit naive and thought it would just be a stopover to make sure we didn’t overstay our Schengen visa. But I was very pleasantly surprised and I’ve been telling everyone since not to overlook it. Albania has a lot to offer.

Landing in Tirane after having been in idyllic Syros and Athens is certainly a shock to the system. We read somewhere that Tirane is sometimes referred to as Europe’s ugliest capital, and it might be – but we loved it. After 8 weeks in the Mediterranean Tirane feels like a completely different contient, from how people look, to language, currency and everything in-between – It’s hard to believe it is only a two hour flight from Athens. The history here is mind-blowing, and something we both knew little about. Albania only emerged from its North Korea-esque dictatorship in 1990, where for 40 years the country was tightly controlled and increasingly isolated from the rest of the world, living there has been described as medieval. The dictator, Enver Hoxha, was predictably nasty with all the hallmarks of a regime run by evil power-mongers. He built 170,000 underground bunkers in preparation for a war that never eventuated, you’ll see them everywhere and they are a visible reminder of where the country was at only thirty-five years ago. Despite all these terrors, two simple anecdotes stuck with us the most.

1. Older Albanian men are very short as a result of the malnutrition they experienced, nowadays when you go to a restaurant the portions are huge because customers want to be able to see the food and know it is all theirs
2. Our guide didn’t know what a Banana was until he was a grown adult

What we love about Tirane is that it’s an ever-changing city, one that is discovering itself as it continues to grow, develop and welcome more tourists. Regardless of the time of day you’ll see busy streets, cafes and restaurants - everyone is always out and about doing something, which gives it a great energy. It’s not super beautiful, but not everything needs to be, if you dig deeper you’ll find it.

Albania does face some battles though. There are many areas where unchecked tourism has ruined what would have once been. Take our next stop Ksamil for example, we can imagine a time when Ksamil would have been one of the most beautiful bits of coast you could lay eyes on, with its myriad of tiny bays, azure waters and white sand, alas this is no longer as every beach is privatised. The only way we could enjoy the beach was if we bought a beach bed and umbrella for the day otherwise we would have to fight over a metre-by-metre patch of sand with everyone else. After much research, we found what seemed to be the best beach and sunbed combo at a reasonable price. We stayed there for six hours to really get our money’s worth. To be fair, it was actually quite nice, and the water was an incredible colour.

When stepping one street back from the fancy beach clubs you’ll find a town with very cheaply built accommodation and many more unfinished and abandoned buildings, the whole place screams cash-grab. Albania is on the path to diversifying its tourist offering outside of the summer months, but for some places it is too far gone. We love being at Port Elliot in the winter and marvelling at the natural beauty of the South Coast on a rugged winters day. Ksamil on the other hand closes for six months of the year through winter – all the businesses shut and everyone leaves, the beaches will be empty, but good luck enjoying their beauty when each one has a carcass of a closed beach club interrupting the view. This is no doubt a spoiled opinion, but the approach in towns like Ksamil is actually detrimental for the country, and it’s painful to see such unsustainable models of tourism being implemented. In our case Ksamil is the first place we’ve been this trip that I wouldn’t return to nor recommend, and maybe if we were a bit younger, we would have gone to the beach bars with pumping music and done shots all night. But I guess that’s just not for us anymore. Twenty-somethings, eat your heart out!

For the first time on our trip it rained, catching us completely off guard. No waterproof gear, no umbrella – nada. We made the most of it by visiting the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Butrint, an ancient town originally settled by the Ancient Greeks and later expanded by the Romans in 44 BC. Our favourite part was seeing the inscriptions carved into the stone. We couldn’t read them, of course, but it brought out the Indiana Jones in both of us. After three nights in Ksamil, we were out of there and on our way to Himare.

H: Picture this a confident boy, maybe 13 years old, decked out in a rhinestone-encrusted sparkly t-shirt, standing at the front of our bus asking if we were going to Himare. He checked us in and, once we were settled, came back through the bus to check our tickets. At this point I almost thought he might be the one driving the bus! Jesse had both tickets, but the boy asked me for mine. I hesitated, he saw the doubt on my face and then said, “Nah, just joking.” Punked by a 13-year-old! Memories of being a teacher came crashing back. The two-hour bus ride to Himare had no air-con, and we were close to passing out, but the stunning coastal views helped distract us. Still, that bus ride couldn’t have ended fast enough.

Himare and Shala River – two standouts from the whole trip.

Himare had an effortlessly laid-back vibe, beautiful beaches, and a surprising number of Aussies – so many that when a waiter asked where we were from and we said Australia, he laughed and said, “Ah, like everyone else.” After arriving we unpacked and walked five minutes to the nearest beach – crystal-clear water and no entry fee instantly put it ahead of Ksamil. Simply, we loved Himare. There are great food spots like Kafe Kanda, a mother-and-son-run restaurant where the mum cooks whatever she feels like that day, and Eleni’s Country Breakfast Boutique, where Eleni serves hearty, home-cooked food straight from her kitchen. We did another boat tour here and the beaches we saw are easily one of the best we have laid eyes on, many of them are only accessible by boat or off-road, making the whole experience feel extra special. We swam through caves, jumped off the boat, and spent hours on a tiny beach surrounded by cliffs, repeating “wow” a hundred times. Come to think of it, that might be the best beach we’ve ever been to!

H: A noticeable part of Himare is the stray dogs. One even sauntered over and climbed directly into my lap. As a dog lover, I was torn, I wanted to cuddle him, but Jesse’s nagging voice in my head reminded me of the incurable threat of rabies. Sad times when Jesse gently led him away.

If you're choosing between Ksamil and Himare, go with Himare. Better café culture, cleaner and more accessible beaches, and a calmer, more welcoming vibe.

Then came Shala River – a complete change of pace and easily one of the most beautiful places we’ve ever stayed. Getting there took effort, a three-hour early morning bus followed by a one-hour boat ride through a canyon of cliffs and water so clear it looked fake – can’t complain when the journey looks like that. Days were slow and peaceful. We read by the water, listened to the river babble, swam in the icy current, and lounged in the sun. When it rained and fog rolled through the valley, we swapped bathers for trackies, beers for coffees, and played cards while watching the mist drift over the mountains. It only made the place feel more magical. With only three restaurants to choose from, decisions were simple, and with a backdrop of homemade fireworks it was hard to make a wrong choice. We watched tourists repeatedly wipe out in the rapids, each attempt ending with a cut, bruise, or lost shoe – it never got old. One night, we met a loud and lovely group of Brits around a bonfire and spent hours swapping slang and laughing ourselves hoarse.

J: Shoutout to my mate Daba! I never got that Swindon jersey off you, but I think it’s better off in your hands anyway.

H: Albania was speccy and I would definitely go back!

J: Albania is a land of contrasts - wildly beautiful, deeply interesting, and truly unforgettable.