Detour: Shkoder, Albania
I decided to stop in Shkoder for a few days after catching wind of a great two day hike organized by the Wanderer’s Hostel. I arrived in the afternoon, accompanied by a fast talking Bostonian and a French Canadian whose accent was so thick it bordered parody. The Bostonian and I visited a traditional Albanian restaurant after dropping our bags off where the waiter, a young boy of 15, was dressed in a white collared shirt, a black bow-tie and blue jeans. The young waiter said “bon appetite” after serving our food. And when he refilled our water. And when he gave us the check. And when we left the restaurant.
I woke up at 6 a.m. and joined nine other bleary-eyed travelers for breakfast. A cacophony of roosters crooned around me as the local mosque’s loud speakers blasted morning prayers across the city. We spent the entire day in transit. Two hours in a small van to the foot of a river. Three in a ferry, surrounded by increasingly large and impressive mountains.
I made conversation with a Bolivian woman, Debbie, who worked in New York. I correctly assumed she worked in tech based on her Allbirds sneakers and had a fun chat about the pros and cons of being in the industry. We joked about how awful family vacations can be, and how we’ll probably end up despising our spouse and children when organize vacations of our own in the future.
Our group was picked up by a jolly man in a thick jacket at the end of the river. He packed us in his red Volkswagen minivan and drove us along the mountainside towards the guest house we’d be staying in: his home. His car gave out halfway, and we sat there for 30 minutes, sharing chestnuts and apples before being rescued by one of his friends.
Our host’s home sat at the foot of mountain. His wife greeted us outside and showed us to our rooms. The top story of their house was under construction, and we noticed there was a lot infrastructure work taking place on the surrounding roads, pipes, and buildings. The trail we were hiking the next morning had grown quite popular with backpackers over the last five years, creating a massive influx of cash for the small, rural towns the bordered it.
We walked to a nearby village to find some beer for the evening, accompanied by a large dog who that insisted on leading us to and from our guest house. We discovered the “store” we were seeking was actually half of a shipping container in someone’s front yard. She opened one of the corrugated metal doors and let us peek inside at her supplies. With a rack of beers in hand, we began walking back, but not before being called to play football with a kid kicking a ball around in a front yard with enough construction hazards to warrant a safety violation.
With the sun setting, and the temperature quickly dropping, we all huddled indoors while our hosts kept a wood fire alive. Our hosts prepared an amazing dinner for us as we chatted amongst ourselves, played cards, and read. I learned a fun Russian card game called Durak from an Israeli guy named Alex and played a few rounds before calling it a night. There’d only be one bus back to our hostel the next day around noon, so we had to get an early start so as not to miss it.
6 a.m., buried under four blankets in a below freezing room. We quickly got dressed and huddled around the fireplace while breakfast was being prepared for us. After stuffing ourselves and packing lunch, our host dropped us off at the foot of the trail where we’d begin our 9.5 kilometer trek. Parts of the hike were nothing but pure incline, and, as we neared the top, I could feel the oxygen thin and my heart beat double time. I focused on my breathing in silence, surrounded by a few inches of snow near the peak.
We were walking within a cloud and our view below was obstructed, but after descending a few hundred meters, the sun had reached a higher point in the sky and illuminated the autumnal forestry and scarred mountain ranges, giving way to a breathtaking view of Theth and its surroundings. The downhill was pretty tough on my knees, validating my decision to travel while I’m still young.
We blazed through the hike faster than expected. Four and half hours compared to the usual six. Several of us developed small ulcers during the first leg of our van ride back as our driver climbed narrow, unpaved mountain roads with 200+m drops and no railing. He’d drive mere inches from the edge to allow cars going the opposite direction to pass.
We were all emotionally and physically exhausted by the time we returned to our hostel, but found the energy to drinking and dance the rest of the night away. I would be heading to Tirana, Albania’s capital, in the morning.
