Why Albania?

This was the question most people asked when we said we were going.

Well, to be honest, we needed a relatively cheap holiday after our splash out in Antigua and we'd heard that Albania was comparatively cheap; but, much more than that, it seems that Albania is going to be the next Croatia and we wanted to get there before it exploded onto the Tourist Trail - plus I've wanted to go there since an Albanian friend complained to us, back in about 1995, that Albania wasn't nearly as beautiful as Park Royal, as there was nothing there but mountains and rivers and trees. We were there for ten days, travelling to Berat, Gjirokaster, Ksamil and Permet, so merely skimmed the surface of the country - worth bearing in mind when I pontificate about my conclusions.

So, off we went, Lydia (now almost 21, still eager to come on holiday with her parents - because she loves us so much of course, nothing to do with having a free ride - Rupert and me. We flew via Munich which was a revelation to me as I drank the first ever beer that wasn't totally disgusting, but what it was I have no idea. Rupert has made a note for future reference. It was dark, that's all I remember, and beery. 

Landed in Tirana in the early evening, disappointed that the immigration process was hugely efficient and automated so that we didn't get a nice stamp on our passports - the only good thing to come out of Brexit as far as I'm concerned. Then, swinging our backpacks onto our backs and feeling very down with the youth, we headed off to the bus to Tirana  - a trip which took about 30 minutes in orange glow of a gathering dusk. 

Right from the beginning, Albania seems to be a country of contradictions; the capital city a disjointed, sprawling mass of crumbling old communist blocks and new, swiss chalet-style houses, glittering glass office blocks next to torn concrete buildings, spraying rusting wires, feral cats and dogs dodging the farting, honking traffic, tree lined boulevards, litter decorated streets, the stench of blocked sewers and foetid rubbish, juxtaposed with the delicious scents of roasting garlic and onions and meat. And all this, surrounded by the towering beauty of grey-green mountains, cutting into the bright blue skies. 

Out first evening in Tirana was not the best from a culinary point of view and we discovered that, as seems to be the way with every place you go to, half the food on the menu wasn't available. We were already a little disappointed as we had booked a tour to the Albanian Alps the next day  - the only way in which we thought we'd be able to get there in the time - which had fallen through leaving us with an extra day in Tirana, but still, it was warm, there was a bazaar which was mostly closed, as it was Sunday evening and the sound of evening prayer wafted from the near by mosques - the sound of my childhood. We had intended to skip Tirana but decided that it was a good thing to spend time in the capital. 

The following way we "did" the Et'hem Bey mosque on Skanderbeg Square - a vast homage to the wonders of slippery marble. It seems very strange to me - brought up in Saudi Arabia - to be able to wander into a mosque for a look around, but I'm glad we could. It was smaller than I expected but with stunning paintings of trees and buildings and, within the prayer hall, the intricate beauty of Arabian art. 

Then it was onto the museum - the first floor of which was given over to the early history of the country, with English translations, though from then on it was guess work as one worked through the intervening centuries over the next few floors, as everything was in Albanian and no I didn't learn the language. The gist of what we learned though, was that the Chinese are one of the few races who have not trampled all over this small corner of the world, waging war on its citizens and claiming it for their own. From the Greeks to the Romans, to the Assyrians, to Italy and Germany it has been fought over by just about everyone else, which is what makes it staggering to me that the Albanian people appear to be so friendly and, it seems, tolerant of other religions and cultures. This after forty years of enforced fearmongering towards the rest of the world. It seems to me that one can take  the history of Albania in one of two ways - either as a depressing lesson  in the greed and violence of humankind, or as a beacon of hope in the ability of humankind to rise up against greed, violence and control and bloom anew. I know, I know, a few rainbows and puppies wouldn't go amiss here, but honestly...

 

 

After the museum, we visited the House of Leaves - a beautiful name for a building which started life as a maternity hospital and was then turned into the centre of the great Albanian spy machine. At one time a quarter of the population was called upon to watch their fellow countrymen and this was the place the people at the top came to inform, or to interrogate, or to imprison and torture as the case may be. We were surprised to learn that the vast majority of the people at the top were left free to continue their lives, after the fall of communism, though it wasn't clear why. Was it just too big a fight to take on for a weary nation? Too expensive? Was it thought that these people would suffer enough through guilt, or would jungle law prevail?Anyway, we came out of the House of Leaves and made straight for the Aperol Spritz and then onto an amazing meal which rebuilt our faith in what we'd been told - that the food in Albania is pretty damn special. Not that dissimilar to Greek food, a plate of grilled courgette and aubergine can be turned into a thing of beauty and as for the bread! And the meat and the olives... but more on this later. 

Went to bed to the sound of fireworks/gunfire/ music, ready to be up early the next day for the rest of the adventure!