Ksamil and Butrint

 Next on the trail after Gjirokaster for any self respecting tourist, is the Blue Eye - a stunning natural spring set in national parkland between Gjirokaster and Ksamil. 

This could have been a bit of a let down; it is a bit of a walk from the massive car park and then one finds oneself at the site of the river along with, it seems, the rest of humanity. One is well behaved and patient thought, so, along with everyone else, one follows the path, single file, before climbing up to a deck built over the Spring itself, where the water bubbles up, electric blue before flowing into the river where it is painted neon green by water weed at the edges. Swimming is banned, but in spite of the fact that there were innumerable signs to point this out, people were still swimming, squealing and shouting in the icy water, dogs running around, leaping in and out of the river and shaking themselves off next to one, barking and whimpering all the while; the air is filled with the music of cicadas - and motorbikes revving their engines, electric scooters whizzing past; but in spite of all this, it really is a place of wonder, the colours so rich and deep that they must surely belong to a world of enchantment. If ever a golden ball was dropped into a pool and brought forth by a frog, this was the place for it. The water looks as though it has the consistency of jelly - the colour too, to be honest, and if you can find a place just to sit and stare, then do. 

After spending some time sitting and staring, we then took a taxi to Ksamil, where we had booked a place for a couple of nights. Now, I don't want to upset anyone for whom Ksamil is home, but I'm afraid that, in my humble opinion, it is not the most beautiful part of Albania. I suspect that in a few years it will be a lot nicer, but at the moment there is a lot of building work going on so that lovely modern houses with bougainvillea filled gardens stand next to empty lots strewn with stinking rubbish and rusty wire. There is a plethora of restaurants and cafes, an abundance of shops selling rows of multi coloured blow up animals and beachwear, a copiousness (yes, this is  a word, I looked it up)  of gas stations and, as we found elsewhere, a huge quantity of the glowing green crosses or serpents of pharmacies. Every second person in Albania must be employed by the pharmaceutical industry, is all I can think...What was possibly once a beautiful coastline is split into private beaches, each sporting a cramming of beach umbrellas and pumping out disco remixes of awful-in-the-first-place songs - for which you have to pay an average of 10 euros. When we went to Sarande, the next big town, en route to our next stop, we found that it had the esplanade and centre that Ksamil sadly lacks and it would have been better to stay there, rather than trust the "sleepy village" description of the internet, but that's all part of the adventure isn't it? It doesn't help that we have been spoiled from living in Australia so long, with our pick of white sanded, nearly empty beaches.* However, we did not go to Ksamil for the scenery or for the beaches. We went as it is a good place from whence to visit Butrint - an old marshy site just over a thin strip of glittering water from Corfu. ** For me this was almost the most exciting part as I have never been to Corfu but was, of course, the land  of my all time hero, the brilliant writer Gerald Durrell. So I had my own little moment of giving thanks for his weird, thwarted, generous, brilliant soul.

It was here on this spit of land that, according to legend, a couple of refugees from Troy started a new colony, which later became home to the Greeks, the Romans and the Venetians before becoming a bishopric, with associated churches etc. It was eventually abandoned due to the fact that it was sinking into the marshes, but there is still much to be seen - an old amphitheatre complete with delightful Roman turtles and the remains of many houses and temples. One of the best mosaics is buried to keep it safe, but there is a picture so you pretend you have seen it. The whole place has a wonderful, Cair Paravel mystic quality to it and must have been a wonderful place to live with a view of the sea and the green hills of Corfu, albeit rather irritating, I guess, if one had to swim to bed.

* a busy beach in Australia, equates to empty n Europe. Unless you're in Wales. Or maybe Iceland. 

** oh how we laughed when we got texts welcoming us to Greece when we visited Butrint. Oh how we didn't laugh when we missed the bus and had to wait for another hour and then didn't think we had time for another swim because our phones were still on Greek time and not the hour-earlier-Albanian time.