More Castles.

This morning, despite getting up at 8 i wont be at the ¨bus station¨ before 11. One more nice breakfast with Stavri, getting of the city bus at the wrong stop, wondering around the market and looking for the post office will delay me. As i get to the big roundabout where buses are supposedly leaving, i get sent from one corner to the other only finding buses to Durmir, the coast resort. Finally in a nice shaded parking spot, i find my Furgon to Kruje . It is the former capital and there stands the big castle fiercely defended by the Albanian hero Skanderberg against multiple Turkish attacks. This charismatic figure is considered a huge hero in Albania and is sculpted and depicted on many occasions, namely on the 5000 lek bank note ;) The castle is nice, the museum refreshing but i don't learn much since most the stuff here is in Albanian... The setting is nice but i preferred Gjirokaster.
I head back on the road have a couple fruits (i realize i never ate so much fruit than during this trip, a couple peaches, apples or plums are just the ideal lunch in the blazing heat). And get back down to the valley with a private building worker. Then a road construciton boss pikes me up and drives me up closer to Skoder in his air conditioned 4 wheel drive. We pass a huge wood fire that just keeps burning... They have no way to stop it, no planes, little fire vehicles. And once more i get dropped at a bus station, People always seem to thin it raly is the best way and i should top hitchhiking... Furgons what to take me to Skoder, i dont :) walk away a bit, stick out my thumb and just as locals are trying to help me out and ask why i dont get a sign with my destination, a van stops. Old man, silently driving his wreck towards destination, smiles and looks out the windows with his big clear blue eyes. We pass a dramatic frontal crash, probably a couple dead in that one. This remembers me of the main danger in Hitchhiking those countries, it is not the driver itself as most people would think and argue but rather his driving and the bad roads...
I safely get to a village, closer to my goal, Koman, from where my ferry leaves the next morning, up a beautiful canyon, closer to the Kosovan boarder. As walk the road here, i am invited to relax and have a beer with some local men. Ani, a young men who has been to england for a couple years but did not like it much except for work, along with older fellows are chilling around a glass water. They tell me the story of Francois who passed here last year walking his way to Israel and whom they never heard of again, despite phone number...
Back on the road i get a short ride, then a longer one with other garbage trowing Albanians, a shorter again with Italian emigrants and finally a local youngster does a 30 km detour to bring me to Koman. And what a slow detour, the bad and curvy roads take ages to get over into the valley.
Finaly in Koman for sunset, i have a fresh beer and then a good super with my last lek at the only local restaurant whom offers me to sleep over, in his garden for an euro. I accept, mainly because of the shower and the nice trees by the river where i put up my hamac. The bathroom is worth a couple words, it holds a washing machine, a shower hose, a small mirror and a Turkish toilet trough which the water from all this flows away. All this despite its simplicity (or maybe thanks to) is however very clean and there is no sign of moisture or bad smell.
The moon is shining, the river flowing and the wind blowing, i get into my hamac for what wont be the best night of sleep.

Kluja Castels

hitch to the ferry