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Published: October 4th 2009
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Still raining. Host beyond his call drove me to the bus, where I was almost embarrasingly the only passenger on the massive coach. The journey to Shkoder in Albania took an hour-and-a-half, including the border-control stop where I, without incident or payment (of any kind), received a slightly dissapointing passport stamp. I had been expecting a big Albanian eagle emblazoned over a whole page. We reached the town just as it got light, and I wandered back and forth in the rain trying to find the train station. I was certainly the only tourist there that day, and no - they don't speak English all over the world. Actually Kristoff spoke a little - he bailed me up in the street to practise, and we swore that we would meet up again one day in Australia.
The last (only) train had gone hours before, so more wandering to find the bus station - nowhere near the trains or where I was originally dropped off. I was desparate for a wee (I don't want you to miss any of the highlights of this trip, you know) so withdrew some Lek and had a coffee (and a wee). I was in one of those typical old-man cafes, where the men drink non-stop espressos and the air hangs thick with smoke. The barrista didn't speak English, but someone from within the cloud of smoke would help out by calling out key words to help our transaction. Each time I turned round to see which of the stubbly retirees it was they were all looking elsewhere.
My two striking memories of Shkoder:
The huge number of cyclists in the morning rush hour, each of them without fail holding up an umbrella as they rode.
The sight of a horse, with ropes bedecked with small bells down the side of her neck, trotting riderless along the city street with a definite destination in mind, and staying on the right side of the road. I'm sure she gave me a sideways glance as she rode by, as if to say, "Relax, this is Alabania - this kind of thing happens."
The next bus was the perfect antidote for anyone who has ever hailed a bus and been ignored by the driver. This driver took it very slowly at first, gradually built up speed over about half a mile, all the time tooting his horn. And the conductor hung out the door calling out, "Tirane! Tirane!" at anyone who looked they might want to catch a bus to the capital.
The countryside views were amazing - but more for what was going on, rather than the dramatic mountains or swollen rivers. Shepherds standing under black umbrellas, watching over a dozen sheep. Herdsmen herding turkeys. Ample horses and carts. A man knocking apples out of a tree with a long stick, and feeding them to his donkey. A farmer scything grass. A group of men watching another group wash a tractor. An old women harvesting a field of corn by hand. Children rounding up ducks. Endless stray dogs.
Tirane was a busy dirty big small city. My five hour train journey to my next destination Vlora (almost without delay, apart from some blog updating) cost 250 Lek; about a couple of quid or $3.50. The train carriages were even more amazing than the fare. Old Czech engines, and ancient wood, metal and leather interiors. Windows cracked, smashed or just missing. Water over half the floors, upholstery torn, everything worn and faded - I loved it!
For half the journey I had the compartment to myself, as we sedately cruised through the countryside. The train whistle never really stopping, to warn the chickens, ducks and people to look out. Hand-operated boom gates. The other half of the journey I shared it with a local family. I gave them some sweets, and they shared some seeds in a cone of newspaper they bought from a siding stop. It took me a while to realise I should shell the seeds before eating them, which amused the family no end. When they left the train they stood waving to me for ages as it pulled away. The last hour was a bit spooky, as it was in the dark and there were no lights in the compartments. I did not get my throat slit though, you may be pleased to hear.
No Erion to meet me at the station, so I took a cab to a hotel the taxi driver recommended. It was half built, but clean and cheap. Pizza, cigar, write up blog in a notebook, sleep.
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birhtday
all very funny, what celebration did you have for your birhtday?