Tirana surprises
When we last spoke we had been exploring Prague and Bratislava. Both beautiful places. And were headed to our first airport in quite some time. Travel always throws you challenges. Curveballs. And this is the beauty of it. Life is unpredictable. Life on the road even more so. This is what builds character. Confidence. And life skills that you do not know you are learning and absorbing. Life skills and resilience that serve you well on your journey.

Albania becomes country number 61
Our journey today was to a country that had been on our list when we left Australia. A country I had been reading more and more about. Albania was to become the 61st country I have visited. The birthplace of Mother Theresa, I learned after a few days in the country. Seeing statues and her image in many places across Tirana.

What to expect of Albania, we had no idea. From what I had read it would be like travelling many years ago. No integrated travel infrastructure. A country relatively new to tourism. A cash only economy. A country with an interesting past. My thoughts turned to long trips through India and China. Very challenging, and very rewarding.
It was with trepidation that we disembarked in Tirana, The nation’s capital. Arriving somewhere new always presents challenges. Usually long lines at immigration. Questions about your stay that have a way of making you incredibly nervous. As though you are doing something wrong just by being there.
Breezing through the airport in Tirana
I was wrong. I was projecting third world vibes onto Albania. What we experienced was a first world airport experience that is only rivalled by Bali. Another country that relies on tourism and understands how important first impressions are. Tirana airport also has automatic passport gates and with a quick scan, and no queues we were through in a matter of seconds. Literally. I was amazed. Collecting our bags and heading out to where the buses were parked. Following instructions I had found on a travel blog (we can be helpful can’t we?) we headed to the back of the car park, found “Bay 10” and there was a large bus quickly filling up with passengers. In fact, by the time we set off there were even people standing.
The next part of the day didn’t go quite as fast as the airport arrival experience. The traffic in and around Tirana airport is crazy. Gridlocked. One small road out of the airport. And that one road arrives at a roundabout meaning that only a few vehicles get to leave at a time. Time to sit back and settle in. We were going to be a while.
Bus stations in Albania
One thing I had read about travel in Albania was that bus stations were not very conveniently located. Often dropping you off a long way from where you want to be. This was something we were to experience all through our eight days exploring the country. That first day we got dropped off in central Tirana and checking Google Maps we saw that we had a 45 minute walk to the apartment we had booked for the next two days. We better get walking. Crikey, it was hot. And noisy. And busy. And the relief we usually experience when finally arriving at our accommodation was tinged with…well, a quizzical look.

“Is this definitely it?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I replied. “I am sure it is better inside than it looks on the outside.”
On the outside it looked a little like an apartment you see in those pictures from war ravaged regions. A building that had been shelled and was just standing.
It was much better on the inside. A modern, very compact apartment with everything we needed for two nights. Good air conditioning. A kettle. And a television for the World Cup matches. And, as we found out when the sun went down, we were in a very vibrant neighbourhood. Lots of supermarkets, cafes and restaurants. Tirana was starting to surprise me. In a good way. The city has a good, positive feel to it. Buzzy. Alive.

Exploring Tirana
The city is a little low on what you would call tourist sites. Which is not a surprise. Tourism did not come to Albania until the 1990s. Before that it was closed to the world, under communist rule. When the communist regime started falling apart in the early 90s, tourism arrived in Albania. A civil war in 1997 set this back and now, years later, Albania is fully embracing tourists.

You can see this in the proliferation of modern looking cafes. And the restaurants, many with a Greek influence. It was in Tirana that we started getting our fix of gyros. At Opa we had one so tasty that we went back the day after. We were practicing for when we got to Greece.

We stayed up til 11pm to watch England defeat Norway. We were headed to only our fourth World Cup semi final. The opponents to be the old enemy, Argentina. With a spring in our step we headed to the “bus station” the morning after in a taxi. I say bus station, but this being Albania, it was just a large patch of land on the outskirts of the city.
The bus to Berat
What you would call organised chaos. People shouting out destinations from across Albania, and pointing rather animatedly at the various buses. I shouted out the name of where we wanted to head and I was directed to an aging minibus with a “Berat” sign in the window. We had to wait until the bus had enough people before we set off on the almost two hour journey. At the speed we left at it could have taken us two days.

Crawling along, constantly tooting the horn, and stopping at every random person on the street and shouting “Berat” at them. Some we picked up. Many we didn’t. On arriving in Berat, again on the edge of town, we had the taxi drivers offering us scandalous prices for the short (but a little too long to walk) ride into town. No thank you. I had read that a local bus comes out to the bus station and drives you into Berat town. We waited.
This did get me thinking. About whether the location of bus stations was a deliberate ploy. Allowing the bus drivers and taxi drivers to work together. So they both get paid. It makes sense, from their perspective. And is a little annoying when you get dropped off far from the centre of town and told “last stop”, only to then see the minibus pass you as it drives right into the very town you are now having to walk to.
Berat city of a thousand windows
Today we waited for the local bus, and it was pennies for the ride into town. Berat is a UNESCO World Heritage site and is known as the “city of a thousand windows”. And at night it is a joy to behold. The white houses sat up on the hill, lit up. Overlooking the Osum river that splits the famous neighbourhoods of Mangalemi and Gorica. The Gorica bridge spans the river and makes for a great post dinner stroll.


Day two saw us walking the steep incline up to Berat castle for breathtaking views across the region. It was a very interesting area to explore and well worth the exertion to get there. Burning off so many calories was a great excuse to once again get a delicious gyros for lunch.

Berat was somewhere that felt like being on holiday. A busy day walking and exploring. Then relaxing evenings wandering the old town finding a restaurant for dinner. And there were plenty. The Greek influence was unmistakable. That first night we had feta, moussaka, and a carafe of local white wine in a very scenic courtyard restaurant with views of the nearby mountains.

Berat hospitality
On paying the bill the waiter brought out a bottle of local raki and two small glasses. Victoria wasn’t keen but knew that offering raki to guests was an integral part of Albanian hospitality. It could be seen as rude to refuse. When the bottle came out a second time we took some convincing.
“You will enjoy the second,” we were assured. “It is only the first shot that is strong.”
Still thinking of last night’s raki, I needed breakfast. Most mornings in Albania this was my beloved cheese burek. Flaky pastry, warm from the oven and filled with soft cheese. Oh my. For our second morning in Berat we had something a little different. The night before we had a knock at our door. It was the lady owner, who didn’t speak a word of English. She had Google Translate open and showed me her phone screen.
“Would you like doughnuts for breakfast?”
A vigorous nod was all it took and then we had Google Translate asking what time.

So it was, at 8am the next morning, with another gentle knock at the door we were presented with a plate of freshly made small Albanian doughnuts and fresh strawberry jam. Just what we needed as we headed out of Berat, on the local bus to the bus station and then onto our next destination.
We were headed for the sea. We were headed for Vlore. And a much anticipated World Cup semi final.




























































