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July 5th 2013
Published: July 5th 2013
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www.theredquest.com The Balkan Odyssey

Getting to the Albania border was as straightforward as the man in the bus station had said it would be. Ulcinj turned out to be another deliciously pretty coastal town, but all Michael and I saw of it was a cafe in the bus station. With a goal of reaching Tirana before nightfall, we decided to get straight on with the journey. After a quick cup of coffee, we jumped in a taxi to take us the short distance to the border.

Once stamped into the poorest nation of the Balkans, we considered our options. There were a few minivans waiting nearby, as well as three taxis. "How much to Tirana?" I asked the first taxi driver.

"Two hundred euro," the Albanian cab driver answered, looking at me, and then Michael, who was standing a short distance away with our bags I scoffed at his price, and went to the next driver. He was standing against his car with a folded-up newspaper in his hand.

"Two hundred euro," he said, as well. It appeared that the price to Tirana was fixed.

I felt a knot in my stomach. Two hundred euros was far too much. I decided to try driver number three; this one was sitting in his car, but he said two hundred as well.

"One hundred," I said, hoping for the best.The taxi driver shook his head and flicked the end of his cigarette out of the window. "No."

"One hundred and fifty?" I suggested.

The man looked up, considering it. "One hundred and seventy euro."

Well, at least it was heading in the right direction. "Hang on," I said, and rushed over to Michael. His face flinched when I told him the price. "I vote for trying one of the minibuses," he said.

I wandered over to one of the old-looking vans, and saw that there was no driver. Instead, I looked at the front of the van, but didn't recognise any of the words, let alone any possible destinations. I'd been hoping it would say Tirana on the front. A few passengers were sitting inside, waiting for it to fill up. I put my head through the door and addressed them. "Is this bus going to Tirana?" Everyone looked at me, but no one answered. "Tirana?" I asked again, hoping for a more positive response. Still no one spoke. Bugger this, I said to myself, and returned to Michael.

"Taxi it is, then," he said.



The drive to the Albanian capital took just over two hours, but, for most of the journey, I kept my eyes closed, weary with the stress of travel and movement. At one point, when I opened them, I saw fields being tended to by men and women with hoes. Children helped by shovelling hay. In contrast, billboards advertised the latest mobile phone companies.

As we reached the city centre, cars clogged the streets. When the traffic eventually got going, every driver seemed to take great delight in ignoring all traffic signals. Roundabouts were a free-for-all, and the two-lane highway that led through the centre of Tirana was like a scene from the Wacky Races. Cars were driving four abreast, many of them beeping and swerving as if they were in a Death Race. I'd not seen traffic like this since Cairo. Mercedes-Benz cars seemed the vehicle of choice, but judging by the state of them, most had seen better days.

Construction was going
The Balkan OdysseyThe Balkan OdysseyThe Balkan Odyssey

Travels around the former Yugoslavia...oh, and Albania too! http://www.amazon.co.uk/Balkan-Odyssey-Travels-Yugoslavia-oh-ebook/dp/B00DQ6V324/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372689617&sr=1-2&keywords=the+balkan+odyssey
on everywhere, with piles of building materials left by the side of many roads. I'd read that rapid, and often unregulated, construction, coupled with the 1980s fume-belching vehicles, was causing appalling pollution in the Albanian capital. But it didn't seem that bad to me as we jolted along the street.

"Where you want to go?" asked the taxi driver. He'd been mute for nearly the entire journey, no doubt in response to Michael reading and me napping.

"Hotel Nobel," I said. "On Boulevard Zogu 1." We'd booked the cheap hotel when we'd found some free Wi-Fi in Kotor.

The driver said nothing, but seemed to understand where we wanted to go. A few minutes later, he pulled up outside a small establishment. The Hotel Nobel was right in the centre of the city.

"Well, thank God for that," I said. We paid the driver and then checked in. The twin beds in our room were to our satisfaction, and, now that our plans were back on track, I could finally relax. We had the whole of the next day to see what Tirana was like; the day after, Elton, my Albanian contact, would pick us up at 8am. We decided to celebrate by going for a beer.

The evening streets of Tirana were full of people sauntering by, or sitting in outdoor bars and cafes. Michael and I walked to Skanderbeg Square, the focal point of the city, marvelling at the tastefully-lit buildings that lined the whole area.

In the middle of the square was a pedestrian-only island housing a large statue of Albanian hero, Skanderbeg, for whom the square was named. Back in the 15th century, he'd made his name by repelling an Ottoman invasion. The warrior was sitting on a horse at the top of a large stone plinth. He was wearing a strange-looking hat that looked like a cross between a Viking helmet and something a court jester would wear. But with the seriously pointy sword in his hand, and a scary beard on his face, I would not have argued with him about it.

Skanderbeg Square was expansive, with a range of notable buildings, including the Et'Hem Bey Mosque, the Tirana International Hotel, a huge opera house (that was part of the enormous Palace of Culture) and the distinctive National History Museum, with its famous mosaic on the front. We would visit more of them the next day, but for now, we simply stared about, taking everything in while the sun went down.

Skanderbeg Square had once looked different. When Albania had possessed a royal family, the centre of the square featured a large fountain. And where the Palace of Culture stood, there had been a colourful bazaar. Before the construction of the hotel, there had been an Orthodox Cathedral. Almost every original building from the square had been demolished to make way for the new ones.

Still, I liked Skanderbeg Square. Maybe it was because evening had fallen, masking the grime, or maybe it was the minarets offering their calls to prayer. Whatever the reason, I was glad to be there.

Michael and I found a bar. A couple of bottles of Beer Tirana came with a price tag of only 370 lek (£2.20), and, like other places in the Balkans, the drinks came with a complimentary bowl of crisps. Albania was impressing me a lot.

If you want to read more about our trip around every country of the former Yugoslavia (and Albania) then read my book, The Balkan Odyssey.

Buy it here.


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