We’d heard
a lot of stories about Albania (positive and negative), but you can never
really know what it will be like until you see it for yourself…
Assumption: The roads are in terrible condition. (One
Albanian blog post from other bicycle tourists was titled “Never Again” for a
60km stretch of steep gravel road).
Reality: Crossing the border from Montenegro, the road
went from smooth tarmac to rough gravel, and we mentally prepared for days of
tough riding. But it turned out that this small section of gravel was one of
the last sections of new road that was still under construction. We sailed
along into Shkodra on fresh tarmac wide enough for four lanes of traffic, and
we’ve continued across the country on similar newly-finished asphalt.
|
Glorious smooth tarmac |
Assumption: Albanians are reckless drivers. (One
round-the-world cyclist described them as the worst in the world. A driver
actually got out of his car and punched the cyclist for being in the way).
Reality: We have never felt unsafe about the cars and
trucks passing us. We have stayed off the highways, so traffic has been pretty
light and everyone gives us wide clearance or slows down if necessary. We were
told that a recent law means that the car is at fault in any collision with a
bicycle, but whatever the reason, drivers are as courteous here as anywhere.
|
We don't have many photos of cars passing us(we actually weren't passed by many cars, since the back roads are so deserted). |
Assumption: Albanians are all very friendly and hospitable.
Reality: This was confirmed to us the moment we crossed
the border and struck up a long conversation with a friendly cab driver, who
offered lots of advice and told us to call him day-or-night if we had any
problems or questions. All along the way, we have met very friendly people, who
seem genuinely interested that we enjoy ourselves in Albania. Unfortunately, a
bad experience can overshadow all this. While stopped for a meal, a couple
teenagers approached us, smiling and checking out our bikes. They seemed
friendly, but when we turned our backs for a moment, they stole one of our panniers
and disappeared. This shook us up pretty badly, but we kept trying to tell ourselves that these were just some stupid kids.
Assumption: We would never see our pannier again. (All the
Dude ever wanted was his bag back).
Reality: Arriving at the next big city, we went to the
police station to report the theft. We had little expectation that they could
help, but we wanted to at least record the incident (“Are you going to find these guys, or, you know, I mean, do you guys have any promising leads?” we’d ask. The cops would laugh and sarcastically
say “Leads? Let me just call down to the crime lab. They got four more
detectives working the case. They got us working in shifts. Leads!”)
|
The local police station |
To our
surprise, within one minute of explaining the situation to the desk clerk, via
a translator, the chief of police rushed out, jumped in his car and escorted us
at high speed back to the “crime scene.” We were eventually joined by 6 other
police officers and the local baker came along as translator. We re-enacted
what had happened, and several policemen headed out to investigate. We were
taken back to the city, where the police chief took us out for coffee and
bought us lunch.
|
Lunch inside the police station (courtesy of the police chief)
|
Returning to the police station, we were informed that the
police had apprehended the two thieves and retrieved our missing bag! It took a
couple more hours to fill in the necessary paperwork and make an ID (they took
us into a small room with the boys and asked “is this them?”) but the cops went
out of their way to make sure we were having a good time.
We left the police station, with our pannier in hand, and a renewed appreciation for the kindness of Albanians!