Sat 26th May 2017 – Thu 8th June 2017
Video of the country : AroundEarth : Albania
Albania was the biggest surprise we had all along the trip. Since Clement and I met in and traveled a lot around Singapore, we both had a common vision of Asian life, and the first thing we realized from Albania was the similarities between this country and Indonesia. Heading toward Shköder, the closest city to the Montenegro border, we lost count of animals – cows, goats, sheeps – walking on the roadside, led by some farmers or just walking freely. Shköder appeared to be a crazy mess of houses, shops, vehicles and people, where everything could just move by itself without strictly following any rule, despite the high presence of policemen in town and in the countryside. There, we had enjoyed coffees in a bar named Bar Prova, near the main avenue. While our devices were getting charged, we made friends with the waiter who told us we could definitely play music the next day in the afternoon, despite the Ramadan period that just started – so we came back and plugged the mixer, finding a source of energy at the bar itself. That was our first Live on Facebook that we had to interrupt 15 minutes later, after a resident came to complain about the noise. He was the only annoying person we would meet during the rest of our stay in the country.
In the evening, habits got us looking for a quiet place where we could spend the evening and rest. Our GPS indicated a beach in the suburbs, which seemed known for being exactly what we were looking for. After riding dirty and tough roads on the way to the sea, we found ourselves in the best spot for a sunset and some chilling. Caring of having peace from the coming and leaving cars parked in the sand, I went drove the van too far and stuck it in the sand, where it turned out to be impossible to get off. Surprisingly, we had a good feeling about the situation, knowing that a solution would be found, and after several unsuccessful tries and digging the wheels too deep to get out by ourselves, I went to ask for help at the resort nearby – named Conchaglia. Over there, Leonard, a massive Albanian guy who turned out to be the manager of the place, offered his support and came to the van in order to look for solutions. In no time, the integrality of the people on the beach – a small dozen of them – came as well and did their best to help us. After sacrificing few clothes of ours under the wheels (with the hope to improve the wheel’s touch with the ground), we decided to dig around the wheels and place wood branches underneath. Leonard finally managed to drive the van out of the holes, and parked the car near the resort. During the operation, we had met Fabiola – a French-speaking Albanian – and her boyfriend Samir. They invited us for a beer to celebrate our common success, we watched the sunset together and we talked a lot. Samir was a big fan of United Kingdom and English people, and was dreaming of going there some day. Fabiola learned French during her stay in France, and they were both psychologists, met at school and dated each other for 3 years. They explained how desperate the situation was in Albania, in terms of money incomes, and governmental issues. We told them about our project and they heard about our DJ skills. Fabiola explained that she had a sister managing a bar in Shköder, who would be more than happy to receive us there for a gig. In few minutes and one call later, I was booked as the French DJ who came along to play at Zona Bar, for his first gig in Albania. We said bye to them after finishing the drinks, thanked again Leonard and his team for the help, and headed to the van to cook dinner.
Few minutes later, as we were still amazed by the gentleness of people here, policemen arrived on site and came to us. They were smiling, politely said hi and asked about our presence here. They were amazed by our initiatives and shook hands with us, before telling us about their mission to look out for drug deals between Greece and Albania, sometimes happening in such places. They let us try their nocturnal binoculars, just like kids would have let you try their toy, shook our hands again and wished us good night. We were still unable to believe how friendly people could be here, when we went to sleep after casually watching a movie in the van.
The next morning, our plan was clear: we had to meet Denada – Fabiola’s sister – in Shköder and get ready for the evening gig. We had breakfast and waited for Leonard to reach the place, as we agreed to share a coffee together in the morning. We were glad to see him arrive around 10:00 AM, and ordered espressos from his team. He taught us everything about his past: how he went through many countries, from Italy to California, and worked in construction business, with no studying background, learning languages from each country, and proving us one more time how wonderful it was to drop everything to live a dream, before planning another. He could afford enough to live all year, and was opening a business after another, going from ideas to ideas, with his bare hands and will. He wished us good luck while we were heading back to the city, where we were now looking for Zona Bar.
We found the bar easily. Denada didn’t reach the place yet, so we made friends with the bartenders, from whom we ordered beers and used their electricity plugs, waiting for the sister to arrive. Moments later, Denada was introducing herself to us, with a big smile, right before Samir joins too, along with Eda, the younger cousin. We shared another drink on the house, before they took us in their car, on the way to the big lake nearby, where I swam for a while. Denada was just as friendly as her sister. She told us she would use pictures of us to make some advertising on Facebook; the night would surely be great.
We reached the bar a couple hours later and installed the equipment as soon as the owners – two young and friendly guys – brought the table I would us as a deck. Everything was just set up when I started playing Techno music in the middle of the street, right in front of the bar. Among smiles, horns coming from cars behind us, clients being cheered up, and the huge amount of beers I was offered, the party could not be funnier – and all of it streamed on Facebook. After a several-hour set, we went for dinner altogether, and marked the goodbyes. We just met Denada, Fabiola and Eda one last time in the next afternoon, before heading toward Tirana, the Albanian capital.
We took a break in the afternoon to enjoy a beautiful beach we noticed. The sun was so warm and the water so pleasant that we spent a couple hours there, swimming in the sea and showering with tap water. An Albanian guy noticed we were foreigners and came to us in order to have a conversation. His name was Izmir, and his friend Vladimir accompanied him. We exchanged contacts, and Izmir strongly advised us to go and visit Tirana. We went back on the roads, expecting a lot from the city we would reach the next day.
In the evening, we parked at mid-way between Shköder and Tirana. As we were looking for a quiet place, we ended up in the middle of some fields, hidden behind some trees, on a path made of grass we assumed was unused. Though, moments later as we were cooking dinner, a man approached us and informed us we would have to leave as we were blocking the way. We accepted and decided to have dinner first before looking for another place. Right after, two young guys, who apparently were the man’s relatives, approached us as well and engaged the discussion, with the few words of English they could use. They happened to be very friendly and they offered us some fruits from their field, and even proposed us some weed. I offered them some cigarettes and we exchanged goodbyes as we were leaving the place. At this moment, we started thinking it was a real thing in Albania to be welcome everywhere, by everyone. We were not only feeling amazed anymore, but also at home.
We were expecting a lot from Tirana, as we were told so much good about it. Indeed, the city was gorgeous, with beautiful streets and a huge park near the center. Walking among the trees, we took breaks near the central lake, enjoyed moments in a bar in the evening, remembering the funny moment this cute girl came and talked to us, asking if we were keen to act for an advertising. As we were not planning to stay long, we had to refuse, and went then in direction of Vlora and Saranda, in the south of Albania, near the sea that we could not get rid off any longer.
We were not so far from Vlora when we realized the coasts and their diving spots were too attractive to be ignored. We marked a stop and went for a swim, where several bars had established themselves and were making a good use of tourism – though there were only Albanians around. After countless jumps from a rock, and freezing in a very cold water coming from sources out of the cliff, we went back to the van, where a guy just came to say hi. His name was Frenkli. Frenkli was an Albanian guy, having a Spanish friend visiting him and he was giving him a moment with his mum before joining him back. He was a music lover as well, and we exchanged few tips about how to produce music using production software. We decided to meet downtown in the evening. Few hours later, we parked the van near the seaside, and looked for Frenkli and his friends. In between, some guys invited us to smoke with them, but we had to keep searching for the gang at the meeting point. After meeting the three guys, we spent a couple hours chatting, drinking, and listening to Techno music. We kept going the next day in direction of Saranda, with a nearby objective. The Blue Eye, a 50-meter deep hole of uprising water, was almost on our way, and we decided to hit the spot after visiting Ksamil, at the top south of Albania. After leaving Saranda, we saw a policeman (another one among the many who arrested us to switch our car lights on, say hi, speak few words of French, or even give us a high five), who was waving at us in order to stop us. As we got used to the strange and friendly behavior of policemen in Albania, we stopped and gave some smiles. The man asked where we were from, where we were heading to, and once we mentioned Ksamil, he literally invited himself onboard for a lift to Minastir, a city on our way.His name was Andi Begaj. In the police for 10 years, he was also a journalist – he shared some links where we could find his writings – and told us a lot about the situation in Albania. Policemen were not so well paid (around 400 euros per month) and had a difficult job, considering the drug traffic and other situations. He indicated us some nice viewing point, from where we could watch the sea from the top of a very high mountain. It was a strange feeling to be in a cold environment while watching a place that might be over 30°C. Andi also made us stop in front of a house, where he “had something to check with someone” and used the car horns to have the man out of his house. After getting no response, we went on to Minastir and dropped him, after warm goodbyes.We did not spend long in Ksamil, and headed soon to the Blue Eye. Roads were very tight and curvy, and we had a hard time reaching the place. A small 2€-fee let us in, and the place was surprisingly welcoming, with large parking, nice restaurant without Wi-Fi, nature surrounding us, locals taking care of animals as much as their restaurant, puppies belonging with these animals and giving us nice company, and of course the big river with an impressive water stream coming from the huge hole we heard about. The Blue Eye was giving birth to hundreds of liters of water each second, maybe the coldest water we ever dived in. It was a long and painful process to manage to immerge ourselves in the below 10°C water, but we had no choice since we had to wash ourselves from the previous days without a shower. Some Irish guys who saw us got amused and one of them imitated us, for the few seconds he managed to stay in the water. We spent the night in the place, had a coffee at the restaurant to charge our devices, and went back on the roads for our last few days in Albania, heading toward Macedonia.The road was tough, long and desert. Very few people crossed our path, and we spent our last nights near lakes, since the sea was now far behind us. We spent one last evening in Pogradec, at the border of a huge lake that was shared between Macedonia and Albania, not far from the border with Macedonia. One last meal, few last encounters – when some ladies joked with us about our dinner on a picnic table with a camping heater – and one last night near the lake. The next day, we reached the border, for the strangest, most stressful, and though funniest crossing ever.
– Written on Sunday 2 July 2017 at 10:20 PM (Day 84)