Adding a new country to our list
As we stepped into Albania this morning, that little bell sounded in our minds. Kerching!! A new country!
We were berthed in a pretty ordinary dockyard, but a row of little pastel coloured houses caught my eye. Might there be a beach just over that wall? I had no idea!
We were curious to see this country which was closed to the rest of the world for so long. As we began our tour - same arrangements as previous days with about 20 of us on a full size coach - I peered through the windows and took a snap or two, noticing the polka dot pattern on the buildings along this road. Different!
Our guide, Ilir, was a former teacher and professor of linguistics and during the day, we learned so much from him, especially about life in that closed country. It had been tough.
I don’t think this brand of fuel would sell well abroad, do you?
Ilir’s stories of his childhood told of the strictest, most cruel (his description) Communist regime. No wonder when, as a professor at the University some years later, he was part of the demonstration which finally brought down the government, leading the way to a brighter, more prosperous future for all.
He explained the difficult transition from Communist collectives to private, owner-operated farms and businesses and we listened intently as he answered each of our many questions in turn.
The journey to Berat, “City of a Thousand Windows” had taken nearly two hours but the time had passed very quickly indeed. Here we were though, driving into the old town which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Our coach dropped us off at the end of the Promenade, a wide street alongside a park lined with coffee shops and shady benches. We had half an hour or so to get a drink, take a break and wander a little. Ilir shared the Albanian for Hello and Thank you with my Hero and I, and off we went trying to practise and remember these tricky phrases. Albanian language is one of the “odd” bunch of languages: Hungarian and Finnish being another couple.
Thankfully, evenyone we encountered spoke excellent English!
Passing the memorial to Margarita Tutilani prompted me to find out more about her. How little we knew of what was happening here and speaking personally, how little I know now!
On we walked then, towards our meeting point. We took Ilir’s advice and stepped onto the suspension bridge over the river to get a good view of the old stone bridge a little further downstream.
The suspension bridge itself felt rather more solid than it appeared, thankfully and from here we had a great view of some of the thousand windows.
We stood a while, wondering what it would be like to live on one of those housee, so close to neighbours on all sides. Not only that, but how would one bring in the supermarket shopping right up there?
We also noticed that viewpoint high above the town and I tried a few times to get a decent flag shot. Ilir reassured us that we wouldn’t have to walk up there, but that the bus would take us. Phew!
There were little stone steps in between houses here and there but everything seemed tightly packed in.
The bus did indeed take us to the foot of the Castle mound, though that last steep climb was a challenge! The view was worth it however, especially on such a clear day.
We could see exactly where we had been earlier; the suspension bridge and the promenade. There were the terracotta roofs of all the “window” houses too.
In the distance, lovely views of the countryside towards the South too.
Hehe, a bit easier to get a picture of the flag from here as well!
As we pottered around here, two young men said Hello and asked where we were from. When they heard “UK” they replied with sincere condolences on the death of our Queen. We thanked them and continued the conversation, asking about them - where were they from and what were they doing? They were from Kosovo and were here as students. We wished each other happy days and all the best and went on our separate paths. A sweet and unexpected encounter.
Our final stop on the castle mound was the former cathedral, now a museum. In Communist times all churches were closed and many were destroyed or used for a different purpose. This one had escaped, miraculously, though the frescoes had been whitewashed. Inside, photographs were not allowed, so the glorious icons and richly decorated and restored corners inside
We waited for our group to reassemble in the sunshine, wondering how tricky the downhill walk would be. The stones were flat and worn from many years of feet and as a result were ever so slightly slippy. Care would be needed, that’s for sure.
We all made it without mishap I’m pleased to say and the restaurant at the bottom of the castle mound was ready to welcome us with a well cooked lunch. Lemon chicken soup, followed by a delicious flaky cheese pastry, then a tasty pork (?veal?) escalope with potatoes and vegetables and finally, a rather similar flaky pastry as before, but this time sweet and custardy. A carafe of red wine was on each table and bottles of water too - generously offered and attentively served.
So when Ilir said we’d be calling at a vineyard for some wine tasting on the way home, one or two of us might have looked a little sheepish!
We’d not tasted Albanian wine before, so both the white and the red wine produced by the family run Cobo vineyard here came as a pleasant surprise. Most is sold within Albania, we learned; until Albania is admitted to the EU it’s difficult to export to the most obvious neighbouring countries although we heard that occasionally, it’s sold in several far flung places - Australia and China amongst those named. We were also curious to taste the Raki, flavoured with walnuts, which was also quite tasty!
The way back to Durrës was quiet then and perhaps even Ilir had a snooze!
We’d had misgivings this morning, wondering if we’d been wise to book ourselves on such a long and activity filled day, but how glad we were that we’d stuck with the plan. We’d had a wonderful time!
