Way back in March 2020, when we were originally planning our Big Trip, we thought about Albania as a route to get to Greece if we didn’t take a ferry from Italy. Due to warnings from friends and several of our own concerns we decided to put it on our ‘No Go’ list.  However, having gotten as far as Montenegro and with our travel buddies Sharon and Rob sending us encouraging feedback as they travelled through Albania on their way to Corfu, we decided to go for it, find out what it’s all about for ourselves and we’re so pleased we did.

We were worried about the main roads being suitable for towing the caravan, but they turned out to be in better condition and more advanced than the roads in Montenegro. They were well lit at night, as were the bars, restaurants and service stations.

We worried about being safe. Admittedly my first impression of coming through the border and seeing buildings in disrepair plus there being a shanty town behind a main supermarket at the edge of Shkodër was not a good one. All the Albanians we have met from hospitality to retail have been friendly, polite and helpful.  At all times we have felt completely safe and never have we felt threatened in any way whatsoever. We ended up seeing and meeting so many wonderful places and people we could have missed out on.

We found the country to be modern, attractive with wide open spaces filled with olive groves away from the coast and the coast lined with beaches. The mountains were spectacular and we were spoilt for Roman ruins to explore. The houses we saw seemed to good sized and well kept, even in the rural areas. Eating out was unbelievably cheap – no other way to describe it – and the food fresh and delicious

The more we toured the country described as ‘poor and dangerous’, met its people and experienced the culture the safer we felt and the more impressed we became. We were constantly surprised at the number of high end cars on the roads, especially 4×4’s. We saw very few ‘bangers’ although quite a few horse and carts, especially in farming areas. It was not unusual to see farmers herding their stock on the main roads, and in fact we felt disappointed on a drive if we didn’t see any.

We found Shkodër, the fifth largest city in Albania with a population of only 88,000, quite eclectic, substantial, frenetic, full of traffic, several pedestrian boulevards and quite short on parking, especially for the Poacher. Their once famous bazaar was destroyed when the communists took over in 1944 but where there’s a will, there’s a way. The city’s stallholders now trade between regular high street stores, selling everything under the sun from fresh fruit and vegetables to clothing to live fish, souvenirs and of course plastic buckets. The attitude between everyone very much seems to be live and let live.

Settled into our campsite Lake Shkodra Resort, south of the city of Shkodër, we continued to enjoy each day. Some things don’t change! I regularly bought fresh cherries and water melons from our local trader up the road. Her 12 year old son with exceptional English (the children learn at school) and manners used to chat with me, whilst his mother selected my produce, and then carry my bags to the car. The quantities of my purchases were huge and the prices low. Most of the delicious juicy full of flavour cherries survived the return journey in the Poacher – I had my hands free as Steve drove – but I had to wait until we got to our caravan for a knife to sink my teeth into the water melons.

I would regularly share my fresh fruit with our everchanging European motorhome neighbours, often from Germany, Poland, Austria Czech Republic and the Netherlands, for no other reason than I always bought too much for the two of us and it was a fun thing to do. Often surprised by our gestures we found ourselves the recipients of Dutch biscuits, Austrian organic Uhudler Jam (made from a unique wine grape of Austria), chocolates, sweets, wine, cans of beer for Steve and startled appreciation.

One evening when Steve and Stella were fishing I had a knock on the door from a Polish chap called Andrzej who sent us this.

Having become our latest favourite Polish friends we shared chat and wine, as is our norm, and exchanged stories. Hearing we were going into town the next day, Andrzej asked if he and his wife Arleta could have a lift to the centre for some supermarket shopping. Of course we said yes and then suggested we fit in a tour of Rozafa Castle and the Mesi Bridge. We set off with Arleta and me in the back (Steve had cleared the back of the Poacher for us so no human folding was necessary), drove through the city centre, explored one of the pedestrianised long roads on foot (obviously! It was a pedestrianised area), and then headed off for Rozafa Castle. Apparently Andrzej had Covid quite badly earlier on in the year, suffers from shortness of breath and was delighted that we could drive the Poacher up to the top of the hill to minimise walking.

After almost four weeks of surviving temperatures in the 30’s and early 40’s it was finally time for us to do a ‘U’ turn and drive back North. The significance of this is that we had gone as far South as we dared within our Schengen Dance and were making our way back home, albeit slowly. It’s not the end of the trip yet, but sadly it is part of the return journey.

Along the motorway, without a village in site, we passed more empty function venues (apparently a glut of weddings in the 2010’s was the cause of venue explosion) and another bunker. There were so many roadside stalls of fresh fruit I wondered how they all made a living. I wondered where I would buy my next fruit from.

We entered Albania from Montenegro through the Murrigan Border Crossing (bottom arrow). Leaving Albania we headed for the Hani I Hotit Crossing (upper arrow).

Carrying our water proof trusty wallet of essential documentation, with only a couple of vehicles in front of us we almost sailed through the Hani I Hotit border control without hitch! On the continent all ‘trailers’ have their own registration document. Border control wanted to see our paperwork for the caravan. We tried to explain that English Caravans do not have their own registration document, they display the registration number of the car towing it and we showed him our original purchase receipt. Whilst Steve was in charge of paperwork at the booth, I got out of the poacher, walked to the back of our unit and took a photo of the back of the caravan displaying our car registration to show the official. At the booth he looked at me. I looked at him and showed him the picture on my phone. He looked at me. He smiled. I smiled back. He waived us through.

In Albania, as much as it was strange to us, we got used to not recycling anything at all and hardly any masks being worn. We got used to the fact that ATM’s were scarce and not everywhere took credit cards. Either they weren’t set up for credit cards, which included small supermarkets, and small fuel stations, or there was an excuse of poor internet or no wifi connection. We had to constantly make sure we had loads of dosh on us and in the same way if you are out for a day and see a loo, you use it, similarly if I spotted an ATM we pulled out cash. At 20,000 Lek equal to approximately £140 our wallets bulged, but not for long.

Goodbye Albania. Thanks for having us, but your flag still reminds me of a Rorschach Inkblot Test.

View from the Cockpit

We’e coming home !

We now have a destination for the first time in this journey, its a bit strange, we have floated along, meeting people, staying extra weeks, jaunting off in the Poacher for days on end, and never really having to think about timescales, campsites or boarders to be crossed.

Our planning horizon is around three days minimum when touring, arrival, relax, sightsee, and off we go again. Up until now time has never been an issue, the gap between arrival and “off we go” has been a month plus, It’s probably gone down to a week or so now.

We visited the Blue Eye, a spring in Southern Albania, and gazed across at the heel of Italy, and Greece in the shape of Corfu, Macedonia mountains were to the East of us. We had lunch, bought two Albanian Flagged shot glasses for the road ahead, then turned Northwards. The Blue Eye, a symbol of luck and good fortune had got us this far, further than we had ever though possible when we set off Southwards leaving the UK on that dark and dismal October evening.

We still have some months travelling adventuring and touring to do, The dynamics have changed. For a start it’s busy, more children, more expensive, we will have to book campsites from now on, we will not get the pick of the pitches on the beach, we will be stuck in holiday traffic jams, if not creating them ! We will not be in unexplored, empty ruins, towns or National Parks we’ve never knew existed. We’re determined to make the most of those months, as we get into familiar territory, but we are becoming holiday tourists again.

Wish us the luck of the Blue Eye, as we follow he Compass Northwards