As a teacher, I’m beginning to realize that as much as I loved school vacations as a student, I appreciate them so much more now that I’m on the other side of the equation. Teaching is both incredibly satisfying but also incredibly exhausting. Waiting tables, driving forklifts, demolishing run down homes? Nope, I come home far more worn out after a day with 12 first graders than after any of those previous jobs of mine.
My first term in Tirana has been particularly filled with breaks. Thanks to Mother Teresa Day, we had a three day weekend in which to hike in Vishni and fall in love with Lake Ohrid. The very next weekend, we had four days off for Eid al-Adha. This time, the credit goes to the Muslims instead of the Catholics, and on top of it, we were given piles of meat upon our return to school.
But that’s jumping ahead, so let’s get back to the story at hand.
We (Bobby and I plus Tiara and Scott) planned a trip down south to Saranda. Less than an hour from Greece, it’s known for the best beaches in the country, and the B.C. ruins of Butrint National Park. It takes a ridiculous amount of time to get there due to road conditions, so a normal weekend couldn’t hack it. We were also holding out some hope that the Ionian sea would still be welcoming at the beginning of fall, and we didn’t want to miss our window. All of these considerations sealed the deal for Saranda.
After our trip to Macedonia we were armed with confidence that we could drive in Albania and not die or get lost, so we rented the same car from the same place and headed off after work on Wednesday. Tiara was ecstatic that her box of tissues from the weekend before was waiting for her just where she’d left it.
One annoyance of planning a road trip in Albania is that you never know when to trust Google Maps when it comes to time, and sometimes, you cannot even trust it when it comes to where there may or may not be roads. Albania is building new roads and renovating old ones at a rapid pace, so this is understandable.
I’d like to note that in the official Google maps directions from Tirana to Vlore it actually lists things like “pass by *insert landmark* on your right” or “turn right at *insert landmark* after 1 kilometer”, which I have never seen before in their driving directions.
Since we didn’t want to drive after dark and we couldn’t count on most of the internet estimates we decided to pit stop in Vlore for the night before heading on to Saranda Thursday morning.
Road conditions wise, the highway from Tirana to Vlore is (mostly) brand new and well constructed. You get to this after an initial rough patch right outside of Tirana that was gravelly and void of any signs as to where one should drive if one was desiring to stay in what is commonly referred to as “a lane.” Also, the gutters on both sides were just deep concrete ravines, so if you veered off your wheel would definitely get stuck. There were no lights or road reflectors- another reason you don’t drive at night in Albania.
Once we hit the new blacktop it was smooth sailing. Nothing was marked- no lanes, no margins, nothing- so it was just a long expanse of fresh blacktop that felt like a half sketched highway. Still, it was new and slick and we felt like we had hit the Albanian road trip jackpot.
Don’t let the modernity fool you, though.
As we zipped along at a pace that was more than likely over the speed limit because there were no speed limit signs, we all shrieked in fear as an old man, wedged between the columns of a bridge in the middle of the highway, jumped out to zealously shake an enormous rabbit in our windshield.
I was shocked as he made his initial move to fling himself in front of us- this is not the Zogu traffic circle, good sir!- and thought surely he would stop. No, dear reader, he went for the hard sales pitch, literally. We slammed on the brakes and he wasn’t even phased.
While I gave him points for sheer shock value in marketing, it was hard for me to imagine such an approach working. Who, when driving down the highway, sees the flailing hindquarter of a rabbit almost kick the windshield and thinks “I almost ran over an old man and committed vehicular homicide, but damn that looks like a delicious dinner option”? We also pondered whether or not the rabbit would be sold alive or dead, and determined it would probably be dead, because he probably slaughtered it right there, nestled in his bridge columns. On the way back we saw the same old man in the same spot, so I guess his tactics are working.
Rabbit hindquarters turned out to be the most excitement of the drive, and we pulled into Vlore only about two hours after we left Tirana, which was miraculously about what Google maps had estimated. We found our hotel fairly easily thanks to the GPS, but what resulted afterward was a little circuitous. Here I will say that I don’t even remember how we booked this place, but it was definitely on a legitimate website and what we entered into definitely was not feeling very legitimate.
We knocked on the door and found an old man who seemed to be working there, and then waited on the sidewalk while two more men joined the party, hemming and hawing among themselves, gesturing to us. They made us move our car closer, and then closer again. They continued to keep us on the sidewalk, talking and gesturing. The car seemed to be the problem, as I suppose they hadn’t expected us to arrive on our own.
One of the men finally called the person with whom Tiara had actually made the reservation, so that Tiara could speak to him in English over the phone and then he could translate directions in Albanian.
It’s important that you know that the “hotel” turned out to be a school that looked abandoned, and we were to stay in one of the old dorms. This was not clearly communicated online during the booking process. We all found it funny that a group of teachers on vacation ended up sleeping in a classroom with random beds in it.
Once prices had been worked out- a mere 1,000 leke a person, cash only, no receipt, naturally- we followed the old man up the stairs. He was friendly and helpful as he showed us around the room, gesturing to blankets and towels and acting out how we were to use them, and demonstrating how to use each key and in what door.
Then he launched into his sales pitch. Cobbling together what little Albanian we have gathered over the last two months, we worked out that he was talking about our car, parking, security, and 500 leke. We promptly paid him and he left. At this point, the payment was more to be left alone than to be assured of any vigilant watch over our rental car, but we also trusted him.
Points are given to the hotel for being cheap and spotless, having clean sheets and comfortable beds, and providing us with electricity and water that were not interrupted (both are commonly interrupted in Tirana, so this was a big bonus).
As to the overall vibe, here is a list of disparate details that should help paint a picture: the balcony was bizarrely crammed with all of the old school desks, the advertised free internet did not exist, we were lucky to have brought an emergency toilet paper roll, we were the only people in the entire building, and the hallways had old chalkboards leaning against the walls. But, for a “let’s stop here to break up a drive before we continue on to the main event” kind of place, those things don’t warrant annoyance. I’d stay there again for sure, but I won’t even bother sharing the name because I’ve forgotten it.
Since Vlore was a pit stop to avoid the death gauntlet of night driving we didn’t look into anything to do there. We take full responsibility for the lack of research, but we can also hopefully be forgiven for thinking it was a less than desirable vacation spot in the off season. The town was kind of dumpy, dingy, and industrial, with all the hassles of Tirana but none of the conveniences or cosmopolitan capital feel.
We set off to look for dinner after an internet search yielded approximately 3 results, all of which garnered reviews that could be summed up with an apathetic “meh” accompanied by a shoulder shrug.
Usually walking through a city endears me to it more than driving through it, but in this case I just disliked Vlore even more. We walked down the main boulevard, lined with palm trees and celebratory Albanian flags. These were preparations for the 100 year anniversary of independence coming up, but even so, in the off season it looked like a carnival whose patrons had left to find better fun elsewhere. Vlore was giving me a mood that had me fully expecting to see Templeton scurrying through, singing about smorgasbords.
The water seemed to be “that way?” so we headed out for an evening beach walk, but when we got there the boulevard disintegrated into shoddily done concrete work, dirt, and general construction before rambling on and finally dead ending into a concrete embankment.
Beyond the embankment was the port, in all its rotten egg smelling hazy air glory. From where we were, you couldn’t stroll along the water as it was inaccessible. The beaches everyone raves about were located down the shore, but in the middle of town you were out of luck. Regardless, I have to say that after experiencing a beach near the port of Durres, I was glad we were heading many hours further south the next morning.
After another half hour of wandering proved fruitless, we gave up on interesting and/or good food options and settled for Kolonat, which is a rip-off, aesthetically speaking, of McDonald’s. The Kolon part of the name is an unfortunately unintended reference that was sadly an apt adjective for the quality.
We finished off the night with some cake, coffee, and ice cream at a local shop that was fantastic, but was lacking a sign or any marketing at all. It also didn’t show up on Google maps or on the internet, even though we asked the waitress the name and she wrote it for us. Sorry, folks, you’ll just have to source your own cake when you get to Vlore.
The night ended with a stop at the grocery store to stock up on road food for the next day. In Japan, my go to convenience snack was onigiri (rice triangles filled with pickled vegetables, or tuna, or some other type of fish, wrapped in nori) or cold soba noodles. Here in Albania, my go to convenience food is a can of tuna and a sack of often expired Bake Rolls imported from Greece. I have lost 10 pounds since moving to Albania, I think sheerly out of boredom. My American tastebuds aren’t being constantly entertained with thousands of options. Just tuna and Bake Rolls, repeat times a million.
At this point we had given up on even trying to go out in Vlore. This was mostly because at night it seemed like a derelict ghost town filled with sports gambling and smoke filled cafes, but also because we wanted to hit the road at daybreak to have as much time in Saranda as possible.
When we got back to our hotel there was some paperwork that the old man wanted us to do. I signed something I couldn’t read that night, and I don’t know what it was and have no receipt of the transaction, but like I said, we trusted him.
He asked us what time we were heading out in the morning, and then pointed back and forth at our car and his proud, puffed up chest to communicate that no harm would befall our vehicle under his watch. I am never, ever disappointed in the hospitality and kindness in Albania. It’s a personal frustration that so many people persist in random fear mongering stereotypes about what visiting here is like. The local culture takes serious pride in watching over guests, and I definitely felt like 500 leke for security was a steal.
As I type that previous sentence, I’m also just now realising that to an outsider it might seem bizarre that we all happily paid random dudes cash to sleep in a totally abandoned school “hotel”, but it was actually super comfortable and none of us batted an eye. You get used to it.
I miss Albania
What I’m about to admit to you is kind of pathetic, but at the end of everything we were in bed by 8:00 p.m. Now, look- we will take full responsibility for not even trying to make it with Vlore because we were focused on her more interesting and attractive sister down south.
It has to be said (because I feel a tad guilty about the underwhelming things I’ve already said) that Vlore is an important city in Albanian history. It’s where the Declaration of Independence was signed, after a group of delegates gathered there in a house. After the signing, Ismail Qemali raised the Albanian flag from the second floor of the house, which is now known as Independence Balcony. Apparently the place is a madhouse of celebration on Independence Day. In fact, we have already been planning a return trip on the Independence Day weekend (another break) because of our luck in living in Albania during the 100 year anniversary of the event.
So please don’t think we wrote Vlore off- we have big plans for the future, and we also knew what we were getting into with a one night, October moment in the middle of a city that is known for beach resorts in the summer.
Regardless, everything else I said above in my description of Vlore as a city is just the truth, Templeton rat songs and stinky ports included. I’m sure it’s more interesting and festive in the summer, or on public holidays, but in October it just felt abandoned and a bit sad. This was a stark difference from Ohrid, which felt luxurious and peaceful as opposed to desolate in the low season.
We slept well in our classroom turned group bedroom, and before the sun rose the next day we were up and at it, packing bags and having breakfast picnics on the tile floor.
We had one last encounter with our old man protector, where he clapped us all in warm handshakes and showered us in well wishes for the road. He made sure to walk us around the car, pointing out all the places where it wasn’t damaged thanks to his care. We thanked him profusely.
Then we set off in the direction of the mountains, and Saranda beyond.
Narrator’s Note August 2020: This was originally published November 10th, 2012, on Blogger. Albania has developed at a rapid pace since I lived there, and when I returned in 2015 this was evident. Vlore, for example, has undergone a swanky restoration with exclusive five star resorts. That being said, the resorts on the beach are different from the city center of Vlore, so keep that in mind if you visit. Most people post up a few km south in hotels on the beach and don’t spend time in the actual city.
