I’ve been in touch with Robert Spano since my Around the Adriatic journey on a Guzzi Breva a few years ago. He made a journey this year on a Malaguti 200 scooter (rented in Italy) through Slovenia, Croatia, Montenegro, and Albania. Here’s his entertaining and useful update on his experience and the many big changes in that country, shared with his permission. Thanks, Robert!
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… I was disappointed in Dubrovnik in that it was so expensive and so crowded. Montenegro was beautiful and much cheaper. I had trouble finding the back road into Albania, but when we went from topless women and sportscars in Montenegro to elderly women in burkhas carrying bundles of firewood on their back, and when I was passing ten oxcarts an hour, I was fairly confident I’d found it. The road into Skhoder and somewhat south to Durres was a real pit . . . burning garbage everywhere and very ugly, but the mid-south coast (Durres to Sarande) was lovely as usual, but you’d better get there fast. That place is on a development rampage that you wouldn’t believe.)
I had to turn back at the foot of the Llogarosa pass due to a fierce storm, and I stayed in a hotel in Vlore, where, from my balcony, I counted over 30 highrise projects in various states of construction. The road work they are doing is incredible. Roads that were two-lane cracked asphalt are now four lanes divided with 90 km/hr limits. That great road they started building last year that I told you about now extends over the pass and ends at Dhermi, but the equipment is staged and I have no doubt it will soon go to Sarande. Ironically, I took the back road from Sarande, attempting to get to Berat, the "crown jewel" of the country. The "road" is marked as major road but it turned out to be rock and rubble. It was literally the worst road, and there were no signs, which is okay except that the roads split and many of the roads and villages are not on any map so orienteering doesn’t work (even for a former Marine officer). Reluctantly I turned back and rejoined the main road, which was beautiful to Gjirokaster, but in a state of construction thereafter.
I eventually returned to Durres and took the ferry to Ancona, riding across the mountains to my childhood village in Abruzzo (Rocca di Botte). I was cleaning out the family chapel in the cemetery and met an old man who remembered my grandfather and told me funny stories about him, including the time when they had to dissaude him from killing a German who had surrendered to the townspeople and who was waiting for a company of Indian soldiers with a British officer to arrive and take him away. Then I cruised Rome with my cousin, testing how much knowledge I lost since my youth.
The Albanians are wonderful, as usual (despite what the Italians say about them). I hesitated to stop in the villages for a coffee, because inevitably the men would wave me over, buy me coffees and insist that I try their cigarettes. (Hey, I can smoke one or two in the interests of international relations, but after a while I would turn green.) They refused to let me pay for anything. My bike–a Malaguti 200–was breaking down constantly. I swear if it passed a tow truck it would go into heat. Two times in Albania mechanics fixed it, refusing to accept money because I was a "guest in their country." They love Americans over there. Everywhere I go it is assumed I am Italian. I look Italian, I speak Italian, and I have an Italian license plate, so I just go with it, but there I make a point of telling them I am from the USA. They are especial moved when I tell them that I came back for a second look.
They are a funny lot . . . they do not understand why tourists aren’t flocking there in droves. It’s prettier than Greece, cheaper than anywhere, and never crowded except for a few weeks. They do not understand that a rich German is not going to drag his Mercedes across a pile of rubble to get to a beach! Also, tourists expect running water and electricity that does not cut out each day. (I never got through a day without a power outage of 2- 8 hours). I don’t care, because I like that stuff. It’s why I can be alone in a village and pay $15 for a beach hotel and eat a huge seafood dinner for $8 or less.
Slovenia was my favorite . . . very spectacular. I cruised the WWI battle sites on the Austrian-Italian front where my grandfather fought. He talked of it very often, so it was touching to see it.
March is Vietnam, from Hanoi along the Chinese border on 125 cc Urals . . . should be interesting . . .
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Useful Links
Map of Albania
Albania Travel Guide
Carla’s 2005 Albania Journals
