We have a free day in Tirana today. We are away from home
for about a month and it may surprise you to learn that we do not travel with a
month’s worth of clothing. Today was laundry day. Fortunately there’s a brand
new 24 hour laundromat just 200m from our hotel, so after breakfast we took our
washing. Unlike in Italy where we faced a similar challenge, this one has
helpful instructions in English. The money change machine was unfortunately not
working, but we found a grumpy exchange office that gave us 5 ALL100 coins in
exchange for a note.
Objective achieved, we then planned an itinerary. First stop
was Bunk’Art2, a former bunker which has been converted to a museum showing the
history of Albania in the 20th century. Itt all started out fine and
dandy, but then took a turn for the worse under King Ahmet Zogu, before being
invaded by the Italians (again!) in World War 2. Where it got really dark was
the communist regime under Hoxha from 1945 to 1991. Albanians don’t shy away
from their history; only by showing what it was like can they then move on from
it.
Inside the bunker
We took a break for lunch at the same place we went
yesterday – Café Botanica. Yes, unadventurous, I know, but it was handy. We
then took ourselves to the House Of Leaves, the former centre for the Sigurimi, the Albanian secret police; they spied on everyone, with bugs, cameras, films, and intimidation. It’s quite
remarkable the lengths they took to spy on their own people. According to
Hoxha, private conversations were the property of the state. In what I can only
assume is an overload of irony, photography is forbidden inside the museum. There
were lists and statistics produced by the Sigurimi, but more importantly there
were films of survivors of the prison and torture camps, giving testimony to
the conditions they suffered; as well as from ordinary citizens, telling what
life was like without being in prison (not much better, in case you hadn’t
guessed).
We cheered ourselves up afterwards with a visit to the Orthodox Cathedral of Resurrection, which was much nicer than the American church we
visited yesterday (the one with the dodgy window).
A much nicer church
Our final stop for the afternoon was the Pyramid. This was
originally a memorial for Hoxha and family, but has since been remodelled and
now serves an entirely different purpose. There are 120 steps to get to the top
as you literally stomp down on communism. The view from the top, unfortunately,
is of Tirana, which is not the most edifying of spectacles.
View from the base: 114 steps to go!
Zero steps to go!
Namazgah mosque
Tirana skyline
On our way back to the hotel we stopped at the park we'd passed yesterday, to take pictures of statues of Stalin and Lenin.
Joseph Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili
Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov
Tonight we’re going up the Sky Tower, a revolving restaurant
with views of the city, for cocktails.
We set off at the usual 9am start, and drove to Tiranë, as they
style it. It’s not a long drive, around two hours, and we did it non-stop. On
the way we passed a NATO airfield, which has a MiG-19 on the roundabout
outside.
We’d arrived a little after 11:00, well before our check-in time,
so we wandered the vicinity of our hotel fairly aimlessly for a bit, found a
snack place for a spot of lunch, before checking in properly to the Metro Hotel. All this not
doing anything is really tiring, so we had a rest, then reassembled at 4:00pm
for our walking tour of Tiranë with the improbably-named Clinteast. Apparently
his mother had a crush on Clint Eastwood at the time, so named him after the
actor.
Clint, as he enjoined us to call him, had given up working
as a programmer to become a tour guide. He took us around the city, regaled us with
stories about the history of the country and city; taught us some important
Albanian words which we forgot immediately; pointed out features of the new
architecture which is springing up everywhere; and generally entertained us. We
saw the statue of Stalin (not many remain, as they were all torn down when
Enver Hoxha had his famous falling-out with the Soviet leader.) This one was
kept in a forgotten storeroom, and rediscovered when communism ended after the
revolution in 1991. It’s currently in a park near our hotel.
We also saw Hoxha’s villa in Tiranë, a piece of the Berlin Wall, one of
the ubiquitous bunkers - the paranoid Hoxha was convinced that either China or
the USA was going to invade, so built bunkers all around the country. We’ve
seen quite a few already. There are, by some estimates, around 750,000 of them,
although the official records show only 173,000.
Hoxha's villa
Genuine piece of the Berlin Wall. The reverse side is blank.
A two-man bunker. In a park.
We walked by the Tiranë pyramid, which was an old memorial to Hoxha,
but has since been recovered and re-purposed. Clint said that climbing the 120
stairs on the outside symbolised walking all over communism. We may do it
tomorrow.
We visited St Paul’s Cathedral, the first catholic church gifted
to the newly-independent Albania, then walked through the remains of Tiranë castle, and onwards to Skanderbeg Square, where we (once more) heard the story
of Gjergj Kastrioti, also known as Skanderbeg, Albania’s national hero. Clint
pointed out features of his statue: his horse has one foot off the ground,
meaning he didn’t die in battle - that’s two feet off the ground. All four
grounded means death by natural causes, old age etc. The horse’s tail points
downward, signifying he never lost in battle. And he’s carrying a sword,
signifying that he is a warrior.
St. Paul's Cathedral. Yes, they really did make the window in that shape!
We also noted the Ethem Bey mosque , significant because it
(a) wasn’t pulled down by Hoxha, but used as a store room for animals, and (b)
has depictions of Albanian cities on the walls rather than the usual abstract designs.
One of Clint’s little gems was about the number of times
Albania has been invaded by Italians: three – the Romans, the Byzantines, and
Mussolini’s fascists. He then said that as revenge, Albanians have taken three
things from Italy and now beat the Italians at their own game: Albanian pizza is
better than Italian, Albanian coffee is better – and they linger over it,
rather than rushing. They also serve cappuccino after 5pm, just to annoy the
Italians. And finally, they’ve taken Italy’s bad driving and turned it into an
artform – it’s even worse! He said that cars tooting their horns was the second
national anthem of Albania!
We finished up in the square, and then Danijela enticed us
to Cafe Botanica with promises of beer and truffle fries. We lingered over our drinks,
and then retraced our steps back to the hotel, stopping at a restaurant for
some traditional Albanian cuisine. I chose…poorly. Think I’ll stick to pizza
tomorrow.
This morning we had a leisurely breakfast in the hotel. Being a family establishment, there’s no menu, you just get what you’re given…which
turns out to be pretty much what we’ve been having anyway, typical Albanian
breakfast of cheese, bread, tomatoes, cucumber, olives and eggs – in this case,
omelette, which was entirely acceptable. Also, a plate of cherries, which were
delicious.
We had a free morning, so we wandered into town. The
picturesqueness soon disappeared, so we turned back, crossed the river, and
explored the far side further…along the way bumping into some of our fellow
Intrepideers. We continued up the hill to the church of St Thomas, but the
old man by the door wanted €1 which we didn’t have, so we took
pictures of the bells and left. We’ve pretty much done the Old Town now, so we
stopped for a coffee and crossed over to our side of the river. There we bumped
into Carrie and decided to get some lunch at The Friendly House, which has a
terrace overlooking the street. We had musaka and salad, with local beer.
At 1:30pm we assembled again to be driven to the village
of Roshnik, for a wine tasting at Alpeta vineyard. We met our guide Adrian, who
told us about the history of wine in Albania. Unlike most countries, it doesn’t
go back very far, because there was no private property under the communist
regime. Wine production really got going once the regime had collapsed, and
Alpeta is one of the oldest, starting with just eight hectares. Nowadays they
have vines growing in small blocks all around the area.
Adrian gave us a run-down on the wines and raki that we
would be drinking, then took us indoors to our tasting table. We tried the
white wine, mainly made from Pulez, a local varietal. As I provided my critique
Adrian was clearly listening and assessed me for later purposes. We also tried
their rosé, made from 80% winter (a late-ripening varietal), merlot and moscat,
with a short skin exposure; and their red, made from more familiar varietals - 65%
merlot and 35% cabernet sauvignon. OK, Albanian wine isn’t going to set the
world on fire, but they were all very drinkable.
Adrian explains it all
But really, we were here for the raki. Raki is the
distilled spirit made from the fermented grapes. Unlike many similar drinks
like grappa, they don’t use the leftover grapes (pomace or marc) but use the
same stuff they make wine from. As Adrian explained, they don’t add any sugar
or even yeast, relying on the wild yeast on the grape skins. Again, we had
three types to drink – first, a regular raki, then one made exclusively from
Moscat grapes; the third was one aged in French oak barrels for nine months so
took on colour and flavour like a whisky or brandy.
But here’s where the twist came in! In order to drink
raki, there are rules: the must be a dollibash, a table leader, to give the
toasts, and…guess who? Reader, I was that dollibash. Adrian poured the drinks,
enjoining us to say “Stop!” when it reached the preferred level in the shot
glass. Some of us went for full glasses, others just a splash, as it has to be
drunk in one go. My training as a Toastmaster kicked in and I raised a first glass of raki, and toasted Methya, who’d celebrated a birthday
yesterday. The second, our glorious leader, Danijela. And the third, our host,
Adrian.
Adrian had promised me a surprise as dollibash, and after
we’d finished the toasts, he told me what it was: to lead the party in singing
a song. Again, rules applied: nonational anthems, no Happy Birthday, no Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star.
What to sing? I went to the obvious, and led the table in a rousing rendition
of a song everyone knows, and can join in:
Mamma, just killed a man, Put a gun against his head, Pulled my trigger, now he’s dead
Ah, you know the one!
After a couple more shots, we tried verse two, and then
it all started to fall apart. But you get the idea.
After a quick visit to the shop (I bought a book of
Albanian toasts and a small bottle of raki) we reboarded our bus. Up till now,
our driver has been playing us his music on the speakers, but this time we
connected our bluetooths to the bus and took turns playing songs from our
phones. Tim, Carrie and myself were the DJs, and tomorrow we have a two hour
drive to Tirana to entertain our fellow passengers! I’ve promised Maureen, our Australian,
some Midnight Oil.
Later tonight we’re going up on the balcony for further
drinks and nibbles with Danijela and the rest of our group. Should be fun!
Today was a longish journey to the town of Berat. We had a
quick stop at the end of Lake Ohrid to see where the lake runs out into a
river, which heads off to Albania…also our destination. We crossed the border, then
stopped for coffee and had to pay in Albanian Lek – no cards taken.
It was around 1:30pm by the time we arrived, so we checked in to the Hotel Usomi – a family-run hotel in the picturesque old town.
We took Danijela’s recommendation and immediately repaired across the road for
a nourishing pizza and salad in the rooftop bar of the more modern hotel 100m
down the road, and, suitably refreshed (I also tried a local beer), headed
first to the supermarket and then to explore a little of the town.
Some of the 1,000 windows
We’d passed a picturesque bridge on the way in so we made
our way back down towards that, along the way snapping the local architecture.
Berat is known as “The city of 1,000 windows” and I think you can see why.
Gorica bridge
From the bridge we could see the Old Town. We crossed over
and walked up the other side, looking up old alleyways (most of which contained
restaurants and hotels). The Intrepid blurb describes it as “the rarely visited
town of Berat”, but given the number of restaurants and hotels, and English, American
and French voices we heard as we walked, I’m calling shenanigans. It does seem
quite geared up for tourists.
At 5pm we assembled with our driver to go up to Berat Castle,
which (unsurprisingly) sits atop a hill overlooking the town. There we met our guide,
Eric, who told us the history of the castle, the three walls built at different
stages; and heard about the Illyrian kings, and other historical stuff. The
castle has since had a number of houses built inside the wall, and once housed
2,400 people – 20 per house! – but these days occupancy is a more civilised four per house. The houses do occasionally come up for sale and Eric told us that
there are currently one Greek and three Italian owners of houses, mainly used for
holidays although one family lives there permanently.
There were also around 40 of churches in the castle walls,
although most are now in disrepair. We visited some that have impressive
frescos, done by Onufri the Cypriot. During the communist era, religion was
outlawed and Albania became the world’s only officially atheist state. Many of
the churches were converted to other uses, such as restaurants, house, and even
storerooms. Most churches throughout the country were destroyed by Enver Hoxha,
but in Berat they were preserved as “cultural monuments”.
Roman Emperor Constanine
Frescoes
Intrepideers
At the top we could see most of the new town, which is
architecture of an unedifying communist type. We could barely see the Old Town
as it was directly beneath us.
After the tour ended we stayed at the castle to have dinner
at one of the restaurants. This consisted of the usual mixture of Greek-inspired
foods – Greek salad, grilled veges, chicken skewers, moussaka, feta, bruschetta,
and lamb; followed by ice cream.
After dinner we drove back down the hill and back to the
hotel for an early night.
As predicted, the following day the weather turned. Our
guide, Danijela, had previously opined that she’d never visited Lake Ohrid
without it raining – it has its own microclimate. We waited for the rain to stop,
and in a brief lull headed out to do some shopping. Nicola was after some of
the famous Ohrid Pearls, and, ignoring the blandishments of the two
old-established jewellers, found some to her liking in another shop.
We lunched on pizza and Macedonian salad (a staple in these
parts), then continued on around the coastal path to find the church of St Jovan, or “John” as we know him; also the John who wrote the Book of Revelation. For the princely sum of MKD300 we could have
looked inside, but there’s not actually much to see, and we didn’t have any
MKD. The rain was settling in for the afternoon by this point, so we trudged
damply back to our hotel to dry out, and await this evening’s entertainment: a
dinner in the oldest restaurant in Lake Ohrid, appropriately named Antiko.
St Jovan's Church
Lake Ohrid is famed for its trout. So much so, they were overfished, and these days are protected so it's illegal to fish for them in the lake; these days they're all farmed. They're the speciality of the restaurant, so we had some. It was delicious. The restaurant is decorated in the antique style, but in fact only dates back to 1988. Nevertheless, we enjoyed it, with some Macedonian wine to wash it down. Tomorrow, we head to a new country!
Our Intrepid crew boarded a minibus at 0900 and set off for
our second destination, Lake Ohrid. We had to climb a mountain range and start
coming down the other side. We stopped halfway for a traditional Macedon treat,
fried dough or mekici, with a coffee. The place we stopped at is well-known for
it and there were several cars and buses already there, but the operation is
pretty slick and we were soon eating them, me with ajvar – a Macedon sauce/condiment
made from red peppers, and Nicola had hers with cheese. We have ascertained that when
they say cheese, it generally means feta-style. They can’t actually call it feta
because EU and Greece and regulations and…and…
We arrived at Hotel Tino around half past midday. Our rooms weren’t
ready so we stored our luggage and went for a walk with Danijela along the lake
front and a bit of the town, before stopping for lunch at a lakeside taverna
where we had a selection of dips including ajvar and makalo, which Danijela
described as “like aioli”. <Morgan Freeman> But, it was not like aioli
</Morgan Freeman>. It was very garlicky. We sread it on bread. I also had
plasica, which are fried whole -a
little too large to eat like whitebait, so I cut the heads and tails off.
Nicola tried the local kolbasi (which just means sausage), which was a
bratwurst-style thing.
Local spreads for local people
Plasica, or "little fishes" as they appear on the menu
After lunch we continued our walking exploration of the
town. We stopped in at a traditional paper-maker, who demonstrated the
paper-making process then printed something on a Gutenberg press. We visited one
of the two best shops for buying Lake Ohrid pearls from – two old families are
the original makes of LOP and closely guard the secret of their manufacture.
Other versions are available. We also stopped in at a little shop to try the
world’s finest baklava – according to Danijela, at any rate. It was good
– not too sweet, and with different (mostly nut-based) toppings. I’d need to
eat all the baklava in the world to come to a definitive conclusion.
It's ridiculously picturesque
By the time we got back to the hotel we had just half an
hour before our next excursion: a boat trip on the lake. This had been brought
forward from tomorrow as the weather forecast wasn’t looking too flash for
Tuesday. We set out amid a cloud of moths which accompanied us for most of the
way, and saw the shoreline from the water, reaching the church of St Jovan,
then going over to the other side of the lake where the expensive villas and
hotels are. “Why aren’t we staying in these?” we asked. “Because they’re not in
the town centre” Danijela told us, which is fair enough, actually.
One of our group, Carrie, had
spotted a wine tasting place on our perambulations and suggested we went there
in the evening. We headed up there with Tim and Jackie, and tried four different
Macedonian wines, accompanied by a board of cheese and charcuterie which, given
the amount we’d already eaten today, sufficed for our dinner. We finished up
the tasting with a small glass of rakia, the local firewater, mixed with a bit
of brandy, presumably to make it palatable.
Afterwards we walked back to the hotel and had a couple of
beers and wine in the bar, where Carrie and Tim set the world to rights.
We met as arranged at 0900 in the hotel lobby for our
walking tour of the city. Our guide, Zoran, introduced himself, and apologised
for the fact that, as a former teacher, he would finish each part of the tour
with the words “any questions?”.
Our next stop was the green market or Zelen Pazar. This
does was it says on the tin, it’s full of vegetable stalls. Zoran explained why
Macedonian apples were so cheap: Macedonia is part of NATO so can no longer
sell them to Russia, their traditional buyer, and the bottom has fallen out of
the market. We tasted tomatoes and strawberries – Danijela had enjoined us not
to eat too much for breakfast as this was a tasting, as well as a walking,
tour. There is also another side to the market that sells “replica” goods –
definitely not fake. Again, Zoran explained: fake trainers have the word Adibas
on them, replica have the word Adidas. But yeah, not real.
How bazaar
Local spices - cheap!
We the walked past the parliament building, and yet more
statuary in a park, representing more events of the country’s past. They’ve had
a lot of it, since the days of Al The G, being variously occupied by the
Romans, Bulgarians, Byzantines, Bulgarians again, Byzantines again, Serbians,
Ottomans, Serbians again, Bulgarians yet once more, and Yugoslavia; before
finally gaining independence and autonomy after the break-up of Yugoslavia, in
1991. Phew!
This is my office now
Zoran explained the significance of the Arc de Triomphe-like
gate and the prevalence of double-decker buses: the gate was built to celebrate
20 years of independence and is actually hollow, containing rooms that can be hired, often used for occasions such as weddings. The double-decker buses
were originally a gift from the UK, to celebrate the fact that Tito had split
with Stalin and decided that Yugoslavia would be westward-looking despite being
a communist country. European countries encouraged this – most with gifts of
money, but the UK sent buses. Unfortunately, they didn’t send spare parts, so
when they inevitably broke down they were scrapped. When the choice of public
transport was offered to the people of Skopje after independence, many of them
were nostalgic for the old double-deckers, but this time they ordered them from
China, because (a) they were left-hand drive, and (b) they could get spares.
Independence Arch
We were back by the river Vardar by this stage so took a
break from walking and had a coffee aboard the Senigallia, a hotel and
restaurant that looks like a pirate ship on the river. Danijela had told us
that if Serbia had won the Eurovision song contest the previous night, she
would buy us all coffee; they didn’t (Bulgaria did), so instead Intrepid stood
the bill.
After a rest we continued back across the Bridge of
Civilisations – a veritable plethora of statuary – and into another pedestrian
area. At the end of the Stone Bridge are two pairs of statues(!) of saints: the
first two translated the bible into a new language called Glagolitic script,
which they invented out of a cross between Greek and Hebrew. They did this
because the heathens had no written language of their own, and because they
were damned if they were going to use Latin (the other of the three main
languages of Christianity) because they were from The Eastern Roman empire and
didn’t want to use anything Western. This alphabet was later simplified and
took the name of one of the saints, Cyril. Yup, they invented Cyrillic script,
now the basis of Slavic languages including Russian. There’s even a clock with
the first twelve letters of the alphabet instead of numbers.
The Bridge of Civilisations
We then headed onto the Old Town. Many of the shops, especially the jewellers, were
shut, because Sunday. Zoran regaled us with tales of
how gold was used for all special occasions, from the birth of a child to its
first tooth (a sign that it was healthy), and marriages. We tasted orasnica, a local pastry, and took in the sights, sounds, and smells of the place. We finished
up by Skopje fortress, as Zoran explained that although it looked impressive
from the outside, there’s actually nothing inside.
That was the end of our tour. We walked back through the Old
Town, trying to find a place for lunch. Zoran had warned us to check that our
chosen establishment (a) took credit cards – many are cash only, and (b) served
beer – many are muslim-owned so do not. We also checked that they (c) served
food. We found none that fit these requirements, so headed back to the more
modern section and found the Riverstone Lounge Bar. Just the ticket, I thought.
Wrong. The word “Bar” should not be there, as they told me they didn’t serve
alcohol. At this point we gave up, ordered sandwiches, and had some ice cream.
