Albania: Pogradec

Albania.  Where to begin.  I don't even know.

My objective was simple.  I was meeting my brother and two of our friends that night in Tirana.  If you look at a map, Tirana and Ohrid appear quite close.  As in perhaps an hour or two.  How deceptive.  And how foolish of me to think that way.

Albania is CRAZY...in a fun kind of way

The somewhat epic journey began in Ohrid around seven in the morning.  I asked numerous different locals how to get to Tirana.  Almost every single person gave me a completely different response.  Some people told me to backtrack to Skopje or Tetovo, others told me to take a bus through Struga.  Someone said to take the bus to the Sveti Naum monastery and then walk, while others said just to take a cab to the border and figure it out there.

Luckily, I had a Brit accompany me, as he was staying in the same residence and was en route to the Albanian town of Korce.  We planned on taking the early bus to the Albanian border, from where I thought we would be taking a cab somewhere.

When we arrived at the bus station with our heavy packs, several taxi drivers told us they would take us to the Macedonia / Albania border for 20 Euros total.  Considering it was going to be probably a 35 minute drive or so, we found this to be too good a deal to pass up.  Dealing with a public bus and our luggage, although it would cost probably one dollar, wasn't worth it.

So we jumped in a cab with a friendly driver, and we were off.  At some point he began asking us if we visited the Galichica National Park near the lake.  We told him we had not, and, in typical Eastern European fashion, he turned the cab around and began driving us to this national park that we weren't the slightest bit interested in visiting.

Thankfully it wasn't too far (and we already had a set fare).  He showed us the entrance to the park which had a long summary in English that we pretended to read.  A few minutes later we jumped back into the cab and moved on.  A stirring detour.

Our driver dropped us off in front of the dusty Macedonian customs area.  Few people around.  They let us through without a problem, and, in a first for me, we walked across the border into Albania.

What was my first memory of Albania?  Seeing the "Republika e Shqiperise" sign (Republic of Albania) strewn with what appeared to be bullet holes.  Now I was getting excited.  The walk to Albanian customs was slightly longer than expected, especially with our large backpacks and the sun beating down on us.

For some crazy reason, Albania actually makes visitors pay for a visa.  Ten euros!  We walked up to some ragtag booth and dutifully paid the visa fee.  With no other tourists in sight, they let us through where there was a fleet of around five taxis waiting to take us somewhere.  Where?  We didn't know.

Apparently there was a somewhat large city about ten minutes away, from where you can get a bus to most places in Albania.  So that is where our taxi driver brought us, to the town of Pogradec, population 30,000.  And it only cost five euros!

We had absolutely no idea where we would be going in Pogradec since the taxi driver told us there is no bus station there.  This would be the norm for Albania.  He dropped us off in some downtown square.  I asked him where I would get the bus to Tirana, and he basically pointed in every direction and mumbled something in Albanian.  Hmmm.

After a quick visit to the bank for some sweet, heavily used and torn Albanian currency, I walked out the front entrance.  My British friend took off in an opposite direction to find a way to Korce, and, before I could even begin to figure out where I was going, a crazy old guy in a beat up minibus pulled up in front of me yelling something in Albanian.

I had no idea what the hell he was saying, so I tried to ignore him, which didn't make him happy.  He had about seven other people packed into his bus and, completely frustrated, he parked in the middle of the busy intersection, got out of the front seat, yanked my backpack off of me, placed it in the back storage area, and threw me into the side door onto a torn cushioned bus seat.

Now I know what it feels like to be kidnapped.  Apparently when he pulled up and screamed nonsensical things to me, he was really saying, "Tirana, Tirana!"  He knew I was going to Tirana, because, where else would I be going?  This is Albania after all.

In what may have been my favorite bus ride of all time, I was sandwiched between two quiet Albanians while a bunch of other locals were somewhere in the tiny minibus.  The driver played some fantastic traditional Albanian music on a retro, hot pink casing cassette tape.  The guy next to me, dressed to the nines and apparently speaking for the whole bus, would occasionally lean into the front seat to adjust the volume or switch songs at his leisure.

As we took the poorly maintained, winding road (insert that phrase into any sentence about Albanian roads) along the shores of Lake Ohrid, we were greeted by little kids dangling dead trout in front of the bus every hundred feet or so.  Every time it made me laugh.  Especially when I saw the old school coolers they were keeping their catch in.

About 45 minutes into our crazy Albanian voyage with our crazy Albanian driver (most Albanian drivers are out of their minds), we stopped at a fledgling snack market literally in the middle of nowhere.  I hope there are lots of cars that pass by there, because there was nothing around.  I picked up some chips and a drink, and after everyone put out their cigarettes we were off to Tirana.

Only Tirana never seemed to get close.  Every now and again the bus driver would roll through a small town, beeping and yelling at pedestrians, kidnapping a few for our voyage.  Although hideously uncomfortable, I began to fear the end of the journey because I was having way too much fun.  We were dropping off people on the side of the highway with no houses in sight.  Where the hell were they going?  We passed numerous cars on blind curves.  Standard fare for Albania.  We kidnapped people who mysteriously appeared on random bends.  It was classic.

In one of the more hilarious moments of my entire trip, we rolled into one of the largest cities of Albania - Elbasan, a busy Ottoman settlement.  We parked in the de facto bus terminal (a parking lot), and, to my surprise, the bus driver told everyone to get out.  He was going no further.  I guess he was tired.  With Tirana still somehow a couple hours away, this development did not excite me.  But, hey, the man needed a break!  It didn't matter if he previously told everyone we were going to Tirana.

The remaining passengers brokered a deal with some driver who was on his break to take us all the way to Tirana.  He agreed and we transferred all our stuff into a much cleaner minibus.  The Albanian James Dean who was originally sitting next to me and constantly changing the music selection was standing outside the bus as we left, smoking his cigarette.  It was sad to see him go.

But, no, this is Albania, land of surprises.  In yet another moment of high comic relief, our driver took our bus outside the lot and did a loop through the downtown.  OK.  Great.  We saw some of the city and its ancient walls.  Fine by me.  However, about five minutes later we pulled back into the parking lot and, by some magical rendezvous, picked up Jimmy Dean with no questions asked and off we went.  Absolute hilarity.  I can't even believe that was planned.

We ascended a mountain road for some stunning views of the surrounding valley.  The bus driver displayed an affinity for straying near the cliff edge, but this only made the ride more exciting.  Finally, about seven hours after the journey began, we entered the outskirts of Albania's capital and largest city, Tirana.

The only thing I knew was that I was meeting my brother and our two friends at the Hotel California (I know, too funny) somewhere in Tirana.  Apparently there is no bus station in Tirana either, because I was dropped off on some random street near the downtown.

I consulted my map, praying that the hotel was close, but I couldn't figure out where I was.  With my large backpack destroying my lower back, I started towards a broad boulevard.  I roamed past one of the most fantastic communist looking hotels I've ever seen, and spotted one of Tirana's most famous landmarks - the statue of Skanderbeg.

I wandered by shady money changers with newfound vigor as I finally knew where I was going.  About fifteen minutes later I walked into the dark lobby of the Hotel California, just off the main square and across from a dentist office named "Dental Art."  No thanks.

My brother and our friends hadn't arrived yet, so I checked in and made sure the two rooms were available.  The girl spoke decent English and told me everything was fine and I could go into the room on the fourth floor.  I headed toward the elevator, but the girl informed me the elevator wasn't working.

Fair enough.  Elevators break down all the time.  However, it wasn't broken down.  In Tirana, the power cuts out several times a week, for hours at a time.  This was one of those times.  I asked the girl when the electricity would come back on.  No idea.  The hotel had a generator but they couldn't get it working.

The room was pleasant with a more than adequate bathroom and a balcony with a view of, um, lovely downtown Tirana.  There was a TV and a phone that I couldn't use.  And I couldn't take a shower or brush my teeth because the water was also off.  About seven hours later, power and water was restored.

Ahhhh...Albania.