Berat to Vlore
We were back on the road and leaving Berat with a tinge of sadness. The place has a lovely feel to it and is a place we could have lingered longer. With our bellies full of the morning’s delicious home made doughnuts and jam we were off. Today our destination was Vlore. We were headed to the seaside.
On arrival we knew what to expect. And we weren’t disappointed. Yes, we were dropped 3km from the town centre. And were immediately pounced upon by the local taxi drivers. Doing what they seem to do best in Albania, which is offering exorbitant rates for very relatively short drives. We started to realise this was probably a thing. Drop tourists a long way from town allowing the taxis to pick up some business.
Not today. Slowly we were getting wise to their tricks. I had done a little research on the bus and saw that our hotel was 45 minutes from the bus drop off. Being seasoned camino walkers we knew such a short walk would not deter us. We took our bags from the minibus and walked into the centre and to our hotel, getting our first views of central Vlore.
Exploring Vlore
The hotel was in a great location and was modern. A very decent option for a couple of nights, even though there was no kettle. I was already scanning options for the morning where I could pick up an early morning brew. After dropping off our bags, we were too early for check in, we went for a walk along the water. Our first time being by the sea for quite some time. Even with such a short walk we could tell that Vlore had a distinctly different feel to Berat. It was full of holiday makers, for one. And felt the most touristy place we had been in since landing in Albania.
And with large numbers of tourists comes mediocre food. Restaurants don’t have to try as hard. And so it was at lunch. It was a little disappointing and indicative of what I have come to expect in tourist towns. Lots of places to eat, all seemingly offering everything. And specialising in nothing. We had a pizza that made me a little sad. I was already missing Berat.
Dinner did not help. We decided to go for a gyros. To a place called “Mr Gyros”. Unlike the excellent gyros we had at Opa in Tirana, in Vlore we had possibly the world’s worst. And that takes some doing. I have had some dubious gyros after long nights out whilst living in Dublin. Thankfully, I subsequently discovered “Abrakebabra”.
World Cup heartbreak in Vlore
Wednesday was the World Cup semi final day. And perhaps things were looking up. We got a tasty, if tiny, moussaka for dinner and a couple of glasses of wine. We chose to eat in the Old Town as our plan was to then walk to the outdoor fan zone we had seen earlier in the day. Only to discover that there were no available seats. Walking back to the small Old Town, we grabbed a couple of beers in an outdoor cafe bar. If I could just ignore the kids that were screaming and having scooter races right in front of us I might even start to enjoy it.
Once the game started it became apparent that we were perhaps the only two people supporting England. When we heard a large cheer from a neighbouring cafe we wondered what they could possibly be watching. Ten seconds later we knew. As Gordon put England 1:0 up in the 55th minute. Was this to be our year?
We all know the answer, and how England snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. It still hurts. Even at the distance of a couple of months as I write this. Trudging home we couldn’t help but repeat over and over, “we had it won. How did we throw it away?”
Moving on to Sarandë
The morning brought no answers. And like all our fellow Englanders, we were hurt. But we had no time for navel gazing. We were packing up and back on the road. After six nights in Albania it was time to wrap up our stay with a final two nights in Sarandë.
That is if the bus turned up. With no official bus station I did many internet searches trying to work out where we needed to be for the Sarandë bus. Apparently, it was on a random street corner a short walk from where we were staying. We trundled our bags up and down the many kerbs and did in fact find the said street corner. And there was indeed a little board advertising buses, but nothing else. No other passengers. The bus was due at 9am so all we could do was trust and wait.
And at 9.10am this started to feel like a foolish strategy. I kept checking my watch. Victoria kept checking the street. Then, a minibus arrived. With a small board in the window stating its destination. We jumped aboard and started our four hour ride to Sarandë.
And you know what happened on arrival. So we weren’t surprised to find the minibus pull up by the side of the road whilst Google Maps showed me we were quite a distance from the centre of town. I sighed. I was again disheartened. The day was hot and in the searing heat, with little shade we walked the 30 minutes to the apartment we had booked.
Mediation in Sarandë
Like much of the apartments we booked we use Booking.com. For simplicity. You get a clear cost and pay either there and then, or at the property. For this apartment in Sarandë it was “pay at the property”. So, being used to using the cash machines in a cash only economy like Albania we went and withdrew the required Albanian Lek so that we could pay.
The apartment owner had been in contact via What’s App and we agreed a time for him to call around. I opened the door to him and was greeted with a smile as we exchanged pleasantries. His smile disappeared as soon as I gave him the money.
“What is this? I need the money in Euros.”
“We don’t have any Euros, as the cash machines only give us your local currency. Here is enough for the apartment,” I replied.
“No, this is no good,” said the owner, getting irate. “I lose money exchanging this for Euro. You need to pay me more.”
Hmm. This could be tricky, I thought. But we stood our ground.
“This is the price of the two nights. And it is in your local currency. Which is the only currency we can get from the cash machines. You are not getting any more.”
Would we get robbed in Sarandë?
What followed was a quite heated argument, with raised voices. I did wonder if there was a danger of it escalating. Eventually, we agreed to disagree. The blatantly unhappy owner threw a sarcastic comment at us and walked off. We closed the door and breathed. What just happened we asked ourselves. We got nervous leaving the apartment to go out for lunch, convinced he would come back and rob us.
He didn’t. Thankfully. But I have a feeling the corner shop did. Inside was a bit chaotic. Items everywhere. None of them with a price attached. I had seen this game before and knew what to expect. We took two cold beers from the fridge and over to the old lady working on the cash register.
“How much?” I asked.
This was followed by a conversation between her and another person in the shop. A bit of back and forth. If I was a betting man, which I am not, my money would be on their conversation going something like this.
“How much can I charge these tourists for two small beers?”
“Do they look gullible?”
A quick glance at me.
“Yes.”
“OK, double the usual price then.”
And so we walked home with two very overpriced local beers.
Reflecting on our time in Albania
On our final evening in Albania we had a good dinner at a local family restaurant. Then we headed the short distance home for a glass of local wine on the balcony and a game of Uno. We reflected on our time in Albania. An enjoyable eight nights in a country that is still finding its feet with tourism, and tourists. Being a cash only economy is a major pain for travellers and an area that needs to change if more people are to be encouraged to visit.
As I sipped my nightcap of Skenderbeu, the local brandy, I was already looking forward to our next destination. Tomorrow we will walk down the road to the port and get a boat to Corfu, Greece. What we hadn’t decided yet, or at least Victoria hadn’t told me, was how long we would be there for.
Yamas.
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