HOBOWAY'S THOUGHTS ON ALBANIA

Today I have a very special guest here on my blog - my dearest and loveliest @hoboway. We decided to make some kind of a "collaboration" (we even managed to get into a fight during editing, but that's another story, we're all good now, it's FINE), so here it is: Hoboway's thoughts on Albania! I think it's brilliant, so let's dive into it:

In Albania, basically, there are three reasons to go on vacation: because it is close, because it is cheap and because it is exotic. Under exotic Europeans usually mean that Albania is a distant backwater with a weird ass language, where imams barter in the bazaars, the hillsides are full of bunkers, and the majority of the population has an overly intimate relationship with their sheep.

But let’s break it down: it’s not close.

By car, from Budapest to Tirana less than 15 hours is only possible if you get lucky and switch drivers. Route planners have no better results than 13 hours, but they were developed by Westerners who never hear about roadblocks and border guards in southern Balkans. In exchange for a car holiday, you have the advantage of having a vacation with your own vehicle, and the disadvantage that some of the attractions you see are not necessarily remembered for the sights themselves, but, for example, for the thrilling occasion of climbing up the castle of Berat on the narrow, sloping marble rocks, then what calvary it was to go back in reverse and find a parking space.

There are flights to Corfu (mainly in the summer) and to Southern Italy though, if you are that sort of travel article reader.

The misconception is further distorted by the public's belief that Albanians are basically different sort of people, who are closer to Istanbul than to Rome. But the opposite is true in all respects. For example, hundreds of thousands of Albanians go not to Turkey but to Italy as guest workers.

The majority of the population speaks at least a basic level of a foreign language, which for tourists there is enough to have a lunch in an English-German-Italian mixed language. But many Albanians speak at a much higher level. Even in the outlying countryside gas station, you may run into someone explaining you “who, what, when” and that who has the church’s key with impeccable English.

Fact is, a significant part of the Albanians lived for at least a short time in Western Europe and it is a real blessing for the adventures getting lost in the country.

There are ancient ruins, Byzantine temples and medium-old mosques in the country, but all of these can be much better seen in neighboring countries. The exceptions are distinctively Albanian villages, some of which remains untouched by the change of time. They were typically built on a steep hillside, with massive clan houses, sometimes especially exorbitant ones. But they have no chance to compete with the beauty of the Albanian landscape.

The Albanian countryside is how American tourists imagine Eastern Europe.

Cheerful kids herd geese and aunties with a kerchief on the head herd hayricks, while the whole manhood is swapping stories in cafes. Thanks to the hills, the scenery is minimum beautiful everywhere and is impressive amongst the high mountains.

These mountains protected the once hermetically closed off country where bunkers grew as wheat; today a key producer for the Eastern European market: of marijuana.

Nothing shows it more than the draught 2014’s summer when the Balkan and Italian smokers experienced the craving for the first time, and only weeks later could they learn the cause. The lucky few at least. In Hungary, I remember, people attributed the lack of weed to the freshly sanctified border barrier. But little we knew that the real cause was in fact rooted in Albania. Stories say that the Albanian police and the farmers were in a 24h firefight, which ended in the destruction of 30000 plants. Albania produces so massive amounts of illegal cannabis, that half of the continent is reliant on its brave manufacturers.

Many still remember that summer.

There is, one last aspect of the Albanian culture that I cannot go by without mentioning, and that is the besa – as an Albanian lady translated to me: "the word". In theory, besa means that if an Albanese person gives his word to you then he will keep that word come what may. In practice it’s more like: he did try to charge double price for the coffee, but if you make him promise, he won’t do it again.

All and all these interviews have changed my perception. I began to feel that the Albanian people are a bit closer to Budapest and that if the Balkan road construction booms a little bit in the coming years, it would take 13 hours getting here. It's totally worth it, believe me, there is no other country with donkeys who wear watches.

Yours truly,

Hoboway

More from @Hoboway:
The Adventures of Scuba Diving! - From me who never went under
Milano street, and finally, blue skies
The cornered bear - Why Russia puppeted Hungary?