Frantic journey Hitchin’ boarders again.

Today started in my ¨Camping” waking up to a hard stone bench. It was Outsides to begin with but non stop winds were driving me crazy this night. The noise, the movement and the hair tickling my face were too much and did not allow me a correct rest. I found shelter from the wind on a stone bench, in a small cabin normally serving as a fresh lunch spot during the hot days. I spent my last Albanian money on last nights dinner, the night, a comestible neck less of dried figs and a coffee, leaving me with 400 leke for the ferry.
I meet a couple of Germans slowly heading home from a nice trip in Greece on a rented scooter, They are kind enough to complete my collection of lowest banknotes with a 100 lek note :) thanks! We have coffee and we then go to find a ride up the ferry port. Located a little higher, on the top of the hydroelectric barrage it offers a view into the beginning of what is going to be a beautiful ride through a narrow canyon.
The first car ride, who already brought me up the ferry pays for my ticket and explains to the locals who are asking why he does this that i will come back with 10 or 20 people next time :) Who is up for a tour in Albania?? b my guest i guide you around. My driver is a lawer who went to Germany for 4-5 years, worked and came back with some money and opened business. A very common life path in this area. In western Albania many speak Italian because they worked there (or are still do but are home for a couple month holidays), in the south they speak Greek and here closer to Kosovo and in Kosovo, they mostly know German. He now takes me to Bajram Curri, there i get delicious very needed midday breakfast break with the money i fortunately still have (thanks to my driver who payed the ferry ride) and pays for a spicy salty “boudin”, the Shujuk, some salad and bread, some fruits, fresh water and sweets.
Back on the road as i just walked 50 meters from the last shop and have my finger up to the first 5 cars, a seat iziya with a big fat albanian flag painted on the hood breaks hard, leaving two big black break marks on the asphalts, pulls back and a smiling dude invites me in. One more mad drive, no seatbelt allowed, he is a cop, knows the rules and drives fast and furiously through the curves to the next village where he invites me for a big cold beer. He is some sort of special agent and does transfers of convicts if i got it right...
Back again, after 5 min, only one cars past and this time a huge nissan patrol loudly breaks some 30 meters after the curve, pulls back and smilingly invites me to jump in. An other German speaking dude who made some money in Germany and open a business, he has a building company, 60 trucks and other heavy machinery under his hand. He will drive me past the boarder, driving good 120 as soon as its possible. The boarder is not passed without a good long red eagle, pit bull or coffee break and offering the boss of the place a cold beer. He is all frantic and talks to all the cops around. I, who cross boarders regularly at home, am amazed by the relationship between locals and customs officers. At the Kosovan boarder, we stay an other quarter of an hour talking to the agent whom i saluted by his name in Albanian :) I don't get a stamp but a separat piece of paper so i dont have trouble getting beck into serbia... As soon as we are over the boarder, he keeps speeding but askes me to put on my seatbelt, different country different police :) After the crasiest boarder passing so far, he tells me how little they earn and that they deserve a little extra (he give i supose when he needs to take something over the boarder).
Dropped in the first bigger town where he has business to do, he wants to get me on a bus :) again they don't understand hitchhiking around here... As i walk my what out of town, a gypsy picks me up with his machine. It is not commercial serial car rather hand crafted, but still i will see 2 or 3 very similar looking engines. blue soldered metal, a smoking engine fixed on the front, no hood, no shell at all actually, small amortizes from a scooter or something similar, a 2 seater bench and in the back a big ass saw which can be connected to the engine by swapping belts. Thats is his job, he drives around to the costumer and cuts wood!
The new spot is good enough to be squatted by 2 wondering young kosovan asking what the fuck i m doing around here sticking my thumb up ... hehe
Yet an other German speaking dude picks me up for a couple kilometers. For the first time today, i actually waited, maybe short 30 min :)... The ride is unfortunately to short for him to tell me his whole life story which sounded dramatic and very interesting. Married to a German woman, he ended up in jail for 18 month, the type of none deserved and heavy impacting jail experience from what i can read in his eyes. He was betrayed and got 18 month of shit for it. God helps he tells me, now i have a good wife and just got a son 3 weeks ago! All the man wants is a simple family life. I am glad he found it and wish him more luck, kids and a happy life, sincerely.
After a bit into my apple, a Porsche cayenne drives up, the driver is the man from Koman i chated with a little while waiting for the ferry and on the ferry. An other heavy breaking, silent this on, must be the ABS :) and i m off to Pristine... He also speaks German, was actually born in Germany, as he says you got all sorts of Albanian stories in Germany! He has a successful business he wont speak much about. As a matter of fact thy don't speak much at all. The driving is little more cautious when overtaking, but this is only considering the power of his car, roaring up to 130 in a matter of a couple meters. The acceleration can really be felt. I know have a little more understanding of th people driving this fat ass car. Not that it is justified but it it fucking comfortable, fast, well acclimatized and sonorized (bose speakers). As i think this and give the driver a little credit, he justifies my original opinion about fat ass luxury 4 wheel drivers, he is a big pig throwing his garbage out the window.
He leaves me at the crossroads to the airport where i hop on a bus. Sitting just behind the driver who again asks me if i speak German... He worked 5 years to buy his bus (in France) and now drives people around Kosovo. Simple life with German investment. He is as most people well surprised by my trip and offers me the ride. His friend sitting next to him and entertaining his drive, asks if she can join me to hitchhike to France to visit her brother :) i a couple month, sure :)

Arriving in Pristine at sunset, after passing the white UN blocks, the city center reddish blocks reflect the evening light. Asking directions on the street i get into a conversation with Fatos who wants to take care of me and show me around, but tomorrow, he has loads to do today. Nice people around here! I Head for an internet cafe and speak to my future hosts. I m feeling excellent once again. Waiting for Kreshnik and his cousin Koka under Bill Clinton's portrait, I realize i am all pumped up a sped up... is it the reading of Neal's rides trough the states or mine trough the Albanian-Kosovo boarder???
Good feeling anyhow. I think I love the road.

Ferry ride

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

Tirane again.

Monday in Tirane, i got some rest, slept in. Stavris flexible work allows him to sleep a little more when he feels like it. Today i go up the hills, on the national park. The view is unfortunately obstructed by the smog. The weather is really heavy and the air is far from being clear. This heavy heat also somehow discourage me from getting any higher and as i get of the carrier, i simply have a small walk and lay down in the grass, in a shady spot. Next to me, a family is having a big day out, a picnic on big napkins, loads of roasted lamb, salads and drinks. The whole family is there, maybe 30 people. The kids play around. The boys play football, drive dads cars, running after each other and sometimes after some girls :) The remaining girls dance to the music. The family is quietly seated, eating and chatting under the shade of a big tree.
As i get back down, it has gotten even hotter and i decide to escape the heat and sit in a wireless cafe, drink a cold Mociato, write mails, tell my host in Pristina when i will arrive and hopefully write some blog post. In 3 or 4 hours, i only get to write mails, forget about the CS host and dont blog anything... But i did get two contacts for the new project running on my brain for the past days, to get something published weekly in a paper...
As i hurry back to Stavris for my cold shower (the water stopped running for about 2 weeks in this part of city and only works somewhere between 7 and 8...) i find the apartment empty and locked so i get back into city center, the blok, the place where young people walk around, hit the bars and where the very young go for a tour on the carousel. I meet Stavris brother and soon as we are talking about meeting Nora, we bump into her on the street! Coincidence? Sure... 10 steps further we bump into the brothers freind who were just talking about him :)
We agree that this might mean something and cant decide what. I am starving and get some Qofte at Tumi’s the most delicious around. A nice bun, two pieces of meat and some sour cream are a delight! We go for Iliria’s (the nae of Albanians ancestors) where we share a couple beers and talk about tourists, garbage along Albania’s streets and roads. Nora and her friend advice me into the right way to get to Kosovo, getting to Koman and taking the ferry boat from there. I will follow their advice.
Stavris musical friend is there again, his presence being much more pleasant without ipod in his ears :) We head for an other bar and have an other very interesting but never ending and not concluding discussion. thanks you for that girls! It did help however.
the bed time discussion with Stavri who cant get any sleep tonight turns around tourist activity in Albania. He justifies his position of elite/luxury tourist trips for Japanese groups. This tourism bringing more money for less effort than that of Noras friend who targets outdoors, sports and green tourism. Smaller groups, cheaper hotels, more personalized itineraries. More effort less money. I can just say that i am glad this sort of tourism exists and that people break their ass for it as it is the one i would choose if i d go for an organized tour. :)

Tirane 2

Day two in Tirane

Late waking, Sunday, lazy day :) we go for a fresh waking coffee. Meet a dutch girl starting an internship in the embassy. We go for a rest after we think we figured out the national museum opens at 5pm. I will meet a friend there at this time. After a short nap i head there only to find close doors and an other disappointed tourist. She probably got the same wrong info. It is also closed tomorrow so to bad i wont see it... I walk around looking for some nice pictures to take.
At night i meet with Nora for a tour in the children's amusement park with her friend and her young son. A couple rides later, the kid still didn't have enough and probably will want more eternally. We head for a beer next doors and there we have a long interesting discussion about society, citing the brave new world i argue that the middle class masses in western civilization are just like the betas (or gammas i cant remember), brainwashed and manipulated trough their fears. The Soma of our modern civilization being consumption. Huxley pictured our society very well in his metaphor some 30 years ago.
The very interesting discussion goes on into societies happiness. I tell them that people here, in the Balkan, seem happier, especially in villages (of course not always but they are not starving, which i never saw). They have less stuff, if you look around a house here, they don't have piles useless stuff like we do store all around our houses (in nice different Ikea storages). Also they care less about what happens in the world. They don't get bothered so much about wars, suicide attacks and other climate catastrophe outside their world. They are bothered enough with they own small problems and neighborhood problems. Once these are solved (sometimes before) they go for coffee. This two things might be the explanation for more smiles and happy life. I don't say that everybody is satisfied and has his dreams fulfilled. Speaking about dreams, people have more dreams, objectives and are happy with simpler things. For example they are happy and laughing talking to a foreigner like me, helping him out. Talking around a coffee for hours (we do this on some Sundays, around here it is non stop, all along the week and at all times of the day). Not bothering so much about next month or next year. Not saving up for years with no precise goal. Not living on credit. Having time when they cross boarders to chat with the policemen...
This discussions stop as we go and meet Stavri and some of his friends in the Presidential park. Again, laughter, simple talks and chats. Then we get to be spectators of imaginary fights in the kids playground. Hitting the climbing ropes, fighting the structure of the swinging chair, the bushes branches. Doing push ups on the bars... All this to our entertainment and distracting us from some serious conversations...

Tirane 1

Back north, direction Belgrade.

Today i leave Djirokaster with the objective of reaching Tirane. 200 kms of roads. This means some good 4 if not 6 hours in Albania. Morning picture session is not convincing i am sorry i lost last nights pictures... i get a taxi out of town, and get of when i realize he is a taxi, charging 1000 lek to Fier, only halfway... :) A truck driver then picks me up and gets me into Tepelene, some 20kms further. He is all wonders “what the hell i a you doing here?? Why? Who are you??”. The conversation is simple since i speak no word of Albanian besides good, yes, no, no problem, hello, goodbye and thank you :) We somehow understand basics about each other using international words and a lot of gestures. In Tepelene i get picked up by a football fan heading for Tirane for the football game against Sweden. He owns a cafe in Saranda, he is a nice man with simple life and a very good and open minded when we exchange our philosophy about life and religion. Respect, helping each other etc... But when it comes to god, he exists and there is only one! We stop in Fier for a refreshment, to drop his friend and meet a bunch of others. Since he cannot drink during the Ramadan, he washes with cold water to cool of. Who hard that must be on days like this driving a car with no cooling r ventilation...
In Tirane i meet a german-italian couple cycling trough the Balkans who loved Bosnia and are now a little disappointed. I recommend them the southern part of the coast and since they have little time, they go catch a bus down there right now. I myself then get to the Sky tower and meet with Eleonora, Nora for friends. Frappe, cold water and a long chat in thee parks about professional life and choices.
I find the same discussions but in different voices, words and emotions everywhere. Questions, fears, dreams, ideals... Nobody knows and anyway it would be boring to know. Nora goes of for dinner and me to meet Stavri, my host. She recommends me a delicious Qofte, at Tumi’s. Delicious in deed this little sticks of grilled meat. But also friendly, real fast and refreshing thanks to a nice tap beer. Simple, Fresh, Cheep, Fast and Friendly you certainly rarely find this in Switzerland. Waiting for Stavri i watch the boring game on Tv... I finally
meet with him and his friends At Iliria’s for a couple beers. Soon we start excited chats about music, exchange band names, addresses, tastes and then a bit later opinions... I love these first moment when you have a beer with strangers, laugh a lot , exchange information with excitement and discover all those new things about new people! By the way the pub is named after Ilirians, the ancecters of all Albanians.
As Stavri will later say in the park, they bring me local knowledge which i spread in my travels and thereby contribute to the ongoing, unstoppable globalisation :) The chats go on in the park where we meet Marie and listen to music. One friend goes into a private session of ipod listening, tripping on Roni Size dirty beats :) It is late, we grab food and go get some deserved sleep. Getting into the family’s apartment late and waking the parents is a problem for nobody. Every body falls back asleep.

Girokaster to Tirane

Beautiful coast.

Yesterdays hitchhiking successfully brought me all the way down south to Saranda. There i meet some friendly Albanians again, besides almost everyone who friendly salutes me, kids are particularly nice, first those two playing football then this whole bunch amongst which two speak fluent English. They ask me, like all kids. naive questions but also where i sleep. I tell then i have a hamac, they point to some trees and warn me about dogs :) The want to touch my muscles (hehe), know my name, my life... they are a curious, funny and happy living bunch. The Marines on their base right next to here are just the same. Except for their boss who shouts i should get out of here. I don´t get what they do here, they are just 3 4 old frigates, half of which are rusting, the other half is already half sunken.

I go for a nice plate of fish in a nearby restaurant in whichs backyard i then set up my hamac. Except for a couple barking dogs, the night is quiet here in the cities outskirts. I wake up go for a coffee in that same restaurant and head off to i don't know where. «j n’sais pas ou je vais ca j’n’l’ai jamais bien su, mais si jamais je le savais je crois bien que je n’irai plus» as la Rue Ketanou sings. As i pass a stopped bus, the gypsy kids sitting there advertise the ride! it is only 100 leke to Butrint, an archaeological site, I should really see it. They are quiet funny and friendly, a bit sticky but cool. So I get on to Butrint.

On the ride I meet an multilingual Albanian from Kosovo, he has worked in Geneva and speaks perfect French. Once arrived, I realize it is 700 Leke entry. 500 for me :) I would have paid 700 if i had known what was waiting for me. Maybe the best archaeological site i have seen in my life and all for me alone in those early morning hours. It has a very complicated history from the 4^th century BC to nowadays. Healing sanctuary, roman Mediterranean trade an culture city, religious center, Venetian military outpost...

From there i hitchhike my way to the beautiful fresh, sweet waters of the Blue eye, but before getting a ride i speak to my gypsy friends again :) At the spring i relax, swim in the cold water (about 10 degrees they say). Later an Albanian photograph shows up and take nice pics :) Then the man from this morning bus ride comes along. He worked in Geneva for Albanian education and integration.

I then rapidly manage to get to th beautiful Gijorkaster for sunset. And meet a serious Albanian entrepreneur who started solar and green energy here. He has a contract for street lights using leds. We talk a bit technical and of course exchange emails.

I find a nice room with a dude who is a bit in a hurry. Tonights shots of the nice sunset panorama of the surrounding mountains along with the snapshots of the massive impressive insides of the castle and the view of the old authentic stone roofs of the old city are unfortunately lost in a wrong manipulation during transfer from my memory cards... This castle, its old town and the surrounding mountains are and will remain my favorite in Albania.

butrint

Blue Eye

What is it about hitchhiking i dig so much??

I am sitting on the third different beach today, and something comes through my mind, i get out my eee friend and decide to put that down. Sort of. i was just realizing how much i enjoyed the first half of this day, and might even enjoy the rest of it more. What is it in people that make me feel so good? Maybe those simple conversation witch are all the same but all different. I always get asked the same questions, you could think that would get boring real fast. But no, the way they are asked, expressions, reactions to my answers are never the same. And the story told on the other side might be very similar but there is always something more about it. Be it the smiles, the silences, a couple’s argument, a joke, a lifetime story... Or sometimes like today after the second beach stop, the ride itself. I got piked up by a towing truck, and something that didn't happen to me since an other fabulous ride in south of Australia happened. I got to sit on the back, on the platform. It was empty since they were towing not a car but a Mobil home, hooked to the back. So i made myself comfortable, secured my bag, out of the greasy spots all over the platform and i pulled out my camera.

One would think the ride was uncomfortable, too hot from the engine i could see right bellow me and from which I could feel the heat, no good air, almost constantly smelling the exhausts fumes, very shaky and under the midday sun. But i loved it! I was digging it completely. The wind refreshing me and bringing me fresh air when i would lean of the side, the panoramic view on the sea and mountains around. Which by the way are the best i have sen so far in Albania with far less rubbish by the roads. I cannot tell if it is more because of the influence of that passage of J.Kerouac’s on the road where he sits with 4 or 5 other hitchhikers on the back of a raging truck or the feeling of freedom, the view and the sensation of progressing. Maybe it is also because after 7 days in Albania i used the buses 3 times and finally get back to hitchhiking

In the end i could say that hitchhiking is more or less the same in every country and every place I have been so far. People will tell you it does not work, it is dangerous, there are many psychos out there. But once you overcome the laziness and the bit of fear people put into you, everywhere it is the same story again. Surprises, nice people, adventures, unplanned stops, coffees, sometimes food or a beer, a lot of landscapes and many lessons to learn.

Long live hitchhiking!

Albanian south coast

A day with Wilson and Toni

Despite his test today, Wilson continues to show the greatest hospitality and kindness. No stress, it seems that as he told me, he is ready. He has worked all year and it is not a couple more hours that will change his performance at todays test. I do agree and wish i could have been hanging out at the beach on a sunny day just before going to my final exam... Because that is what we did today. He showed me Cold Beach, the beach which is half sea, on the bottom, and half spring water, the 2 cold centimeters on the top. Here the springs of Vlora flow out of the rocks, into the sea. The waters are crystal clear and the spring water is cold and delicious.

After Wilson leaves me for his exam, i hang around the beach a bit longer and then head for an intenret cafe. After too much sun, the 4 hours i spend there are at least a little fresh.

I then meet Wilson and Toni for a coffee and some food. As Wilson goes to sleep, I have an excited chat with Toni where i tell him my anger about some of my friends... (wont tell any names but moahahah you might be reading this now) Those friends who were so revolted, talking about how shitty capitalism is and that they will never work in a bank, in an insurance company or any place their conscience has a problem with. Well some of them forgot all the smart talk. Some other friends dare telling me i am soooo lucky to do what i do. Damn, the people i meet around here have to trespass law to come visit me or go through a shitload of paperwork and corrupt administration... Not talking about the fact that to raise the money for the cheapest train ticket from Geneva to Paris they need to work a week if they spend spending nothing at all... ohh and even if they had paper and money, they still have to keep their family fed and cared for... THEY can tell me i m lucky, NOT YOU who has freedom to move any place and the opportunity to save up for a month trip in one or two month of work... Makes me sick to hear this, and i hope i don’t hear it again. If you want to do this, do it, you probably can. Ouuups sorry I said this :)

Ok that was for a bit of smart talk of mine... Sorry for those whom it does not concern, i will calm down now and enjoy my luck, listen to the waves, check out the crystal waters and be silent :)

VLORA

Ramadan.

Today is the second day of Ramadan, I was not aware of this until i saw the big sign above the main street of Berat and talked to the women from the info office. What i don't know either is that i will make a very interesting and helpfull (relativ to last nights state of mind) experience about this today.

I get up at 7, visit the cities castle and old town, you have to climb up a steep road and even in the early morning it is tough. But it is worth it, in the early hours it is free :) and no one is in the small streets up here. Berat is definitely the city of thousand windows. I get a private tour into the building holding the phonographic museum witch opens at 9 only. The guard lets me in for a couple pictures and some very interested questions. Where are you from, what do you do, how long etc... the usual stuff :)

Back down i pay for my room, get a nice smile from the owner and head for the Internet cafe and then the bus station. I meet a young helpful men at the bus stop. I would have waited to more hour if it wasn't for him. I was already ion the 2 o'clock bus, the twelve o´clock bus only passes trough, does not stop in the station. I say this because i did not know it yet, but i will meet him again very soon!

As i get of in Vlore, i am full of doubts, it is 2pm, the heat along with some 18kilo on my back is barely stand able and i have no idea where to go or what to do. I head for what seems to be the old center. A couple statues with the date 1912... no idea what happened that year. An other on for a dude named Ismel who was born and died the same day... no idea who he is and no one around to tell me. At this time of the day in Albania, everyone sleeps somewhere. The shops close for a couple hours, the streets are deserted. I sit in a park quite close to some elders playing dominoes or cards. I sit a while and then walk through fresh water blown away by the wind from a big fountain...

And i decide to head for the beach. Get harassed by a first Taxi driver. The mood is not at its highest. What the fuck do i do here?? i am tired, i am sick of moving all the time. where are my friends? what the fuck do i do alone here, in this heat, with all the rare people i come across staring at me as if i was from mars... Big moment of questioning again, i should definitely head back to Belgrade soon and go rest in Istanbul. But still i want to see the sea and the beautiful beaches i was told about. So i walk...

At the next taxi station, i get harassed again, this time they want to convince me to go for a 20 euro room... And Destiny kicks in once more... Two young Albanians walk by and ask if i need translation. We start talking. They are students of the peace Corps i contacted a bit late and did not get an answer from! they speak very good English and speak with great admiration about their teachers. We dump the taxi guy and go for coffee. They will totally help me out of this situation, coffee with a lot of sugar gives me the initial boost and when Wilson tells me he knows a 10 euro room and the he could even host me, i am delighted and heve no more problems.

We move at Wilsons where i drop my stuff before going round town. He shows me the place he worked at, introduces me to his boss, to his friends. Explains that 1912 is the year of declaration of independence ad that Ismel is the dude who declared it and raised the flag! he bring me to the place it was raised where an old man shouts stuff and point at what i should take a picture of, it is the nicest picture i have from vlore i think...

We then head for what has to do with my introduction. Sorry i get carried away again and you have lots of shit to read :) We go to his mosque where after watching the evening prayer, i get to share the food with his community. Delicious lamb with slightly spicy potatoes, rice, salde and yogurt. Delicious! the best mean i had in a long time. And every one around is friendly, a little curious and welcoming. And right opposite to me sits the men who helped me out with the bus... A great experience which made me think a bit.

Although these are special times, because of the Ramadan, the hospitality of Muslim make me realize that it is very easy to be convinced into this religion. Unlike what is believed, they are not all extremist and leave you the freedom to practice the religion as you feel. I for my part think will never be a Muslim (or practice any other religion) because i am not desperately looking for answers, impossible explanation, spirituality or a community to belong to. I am a rational, got scientific education and am lucky enough to have all the friends to support me and all i need to live comfortably. None the less, i was very impressed and will try to make my point without further justification or side explanations. i believe the reason Islam is a raising religion in great cities like London, Paris or others is not the great job imams do to convince people into it. Rather it is the very warm, supportive, opened, not demanding, helping, respecting, tolerating community that it offers. This is all the capitalist society, specially in the anonymity of cities, does not give. It sometimes, if you are willing and lucky enough, gives enough money to survive or even to buy stuff (which might not be what you need). But it does not care for you, especially if you are an illegal immigrant, a homeless person or some sort of marginal. Maybe i understood this that way because i was myself desperate and lonely at the time i met Wilson and because he offered me, just like his friends offered him before, a home, food and someone to talk to (not about my problems but about life, religion, gay couples, tolerance, America and much more debatable subjects...)

I was long once again, got carried away in socio religious theories :) And don't get me wrong about it, I don't advocate religion. simply point out it fills a lack of communal sens in our society. Reactions are welcome!

Berat 2

Off I head again.

After taking what seemed to me like enough rest and time to accommodate with Albania at Tauschias place, i head of fro Berat, a beautiful conserved city. It was conserved this way back in the days of communism, as a natural size museum.

The bus journey is long and tiering, as always. but cheap. The roads are real bad and shaky again (they shook of a side mirror from the bus...) the roadsides are full of garbage, once again...

I arrive in Berat where i soon smell the strong flavors of freshly fround coffee! I stop in a small shop where i can not resist buying some Turkish coffee. It is still warm and smells through the hot sealed package. I buy a small pack for personal use but this immediately makes me think of the good old days working with Benz at LESO in Lausanne. When he prepared this delicious coffee on hard mornings. And as i was passing the post office, i send it of to him, no doubts this was meant to happen. I hope it got there!

I then taste a local burek, delicious, simple, cheap. And find a room in a private house for a very reasonable price. I talk to the chick at the info center about Albania, she shows me pictures from Albania from the sky. It seems to be a beautiful country with many hidden surprising places. As i then walk through the city, i meet a hotel owner who invites me over to taste his wifes coffee and his home made vine. Surprisingly good and not too strong. The first vine i taste in Albania is a very good surprise! He then shows me around his garden and his 30 pigeons from different origins. I have to say goodbye and go around to make pictures in the evening light. Not so concluding sooting session. I eat, meet a bunch of Check who wonder what i do alone and then an Albanian kid who grew up in England and has been away for 8 years. He is 12 and speaks very wisely for his age, he is very surprised by Albania, did not expect it that way. All the houses under construction, all the garbage... He prefers England.

I walk around the local giro a bit, young Albanians want to be taken in picture, i don't manage to do a reasonably good shot. still have to work on the flash use.

I go home, feeling a bit dizzy from all those people on the streets. I feel very tiered and a little lonely in my dark room...

Berat

Walking the river

I decide to do something today, go look for a nearby spring. Great idea don't you think... except i never found it. I found remote field to sit in, a strange river bed, lots of chicken and donkeys and more staring kids.

I am too lazy to write anything more today. I know i wrote that i would tell more about the peace corp organisation and i could also tell about he people i met this day and the walk through the hills and mudy river beds... but hey i just decided that i will post what i have written so far and there is nothing for today that i have allready written...

By the way sorry if i still did not put pictures, i know some wont mind, some will. Soon you will have plenty to watch and you wont need to read anything...

Walking the river

Think back...

Once again a day off doubts, where should i go? when? why? what do i want? Maybe I am a little tired. Up to now, i am just moving from place to place, making friend just as fast as i loose them.

So i think... i sort of know what i want and what i left for. To be surprised! To discover cultures, people, history and myself. To get away from a job and an European life... but all this is reallya one and only thing... Traveling.

And i believe I am succeeding, i traveled, i met loads of people from all horizons, from farmers to models, journalists to engineers, rich and poor, beautiful and strange, extremists and religious... From drivers from all over the Balkans, i heard stories about the past, the present and the future. Stories of War, of survival, of personal life destinies, both the most beautiful and saddest. I learned a great deal about the Balkan culture: history, dresses, customs, traditions, music, food, vines, beers... and also a little about myself. Fortunately there is much more to learn.

There were also the breath taking landscapes and moments such as the hike in Durmitor with Alain, the Croatian coast, the rainbow experience... And sunrises over dusty plains, mountains or lacs. Magnificent sunsets on the Baltic sea. Again, fortunately, there is much more to see.

Still this day i have doubts, i feel i need a rest so i try to make plans about were. All these things that passed in front of me or that i passed in front of... it all went so fast – and i am really satisfied that i took the time to write them down to help me remember. Maybe that is why I decide it is time to settle down a while, rent a flat, make my own food, make longer term friends, get a rhythm, maybe get a small job. I also decide to start writing more elaborate articles and try to get them published in some paper. Just to give my trip one more goal. For all this i pick Istanbul, it will get me one foot into Orient and let me time to discover this huge city.

You may laugh looking at the map... yes this happened a month ago and i am writing this in Skopje still 800 kms away... Well once again, great things happened and i am not quite there yet...

So that was more or less what was on my mind that day. I then sat down in the the majors secretary's office to make some skype calls. Quite a funny feeling sitting at this desk after closing time, something impossible in France. After about an hour of conversations, a man looks trough the door, he is slightly drunk, looks at me with his glowing eyes and walk towards me with unsure steps... He sits down next to me, looks at me, at my screen and just smiles. Even though he is not interfering or disturbing in a direct way, i feel uneased and say goodbye to my brother. I then talk with the drunk and as we leave, he insists on closing the office behind us.

No pictures for today... a coupl emore from yesterday:

Gramsh factories 2

Desafected Factories.

Gramsh was erected during the regime of Hoxa to produce weapons. The city was built around a factory of Kalashnikov and one of submarine batteries. It is also said that to confuse the enemy, he named 4 cities of Albania by the name of Gramsh. Some 15 years after the end of this regime there is not much left from the diverse factories, most of them are still standing but falling in ruin. Today we decide to visit the old battery factory.

On the way to the factory, we see a fig tree carrying nice big purple ripe figs. We are walking on a sort of bridge and the tree is growing up from the bottom of it so we are at the right hight but still a little to far to reach the fruits. A men at the next door terrace notices we want figs and comes over to help us with a big smile on his face. He arrives with a long metal hook, grabs a nice branch full of fruits and pulls it towards us. We now have easy access to the sweetest figs i have eaten in a looong time. Tauschia uses her knowledge of Albanian, or Ship as they say here, to communicate with the cafe owner on a very even basis. She explains to me this is not usually the case, foreign women alone don’t get the same treatment. Same situation at the small fruit and veg mini market where she has an other friendly conversation as we ask for a plastic bag for the figs.

Tauschia exlpains that she mostly gets a lot of staring and sometimes a “hey baby”... I am lucky enough to get only the staring and this is already annoying enough. Especially in Gramsh, everybody stars at me as if i was an alien. A real insisting look, they wot take of me until i disappear from their sight and it seems like they are studying me like a kid would discover a strange cat for the first time. The look is really that of a kid, innocent, curious and insistent. We still get this look but at least Tauschia now also gets the due respect.

Tauschia knows the guys at the entrance of the site and we pass the gate saluting them. Even though the place is no longer producing batteries, it has been converted to host buses and diverse small workshops. Walking through the falling apart red brick buildings, we meet the new occupants, a horde of sheep. Quite shy but curious some jump and run away some stay, starring and some even get a little closer. I can imagine what is going trough their head right now, something very similar to what i was thinking as people on the streets were starring at me. “damn, what does he look at, whats so special about me??”

Some doors are locked some opened, we puss the door into a great hall where pills of unfinished batteries almost make it to the 6 meter high ceiling. The floor is covered with strange shaped ceramics, the windows are broken, the walls no longer white and here and there, someone seems to have attempted to start a battery fire... It really seems the factory was abandoned from one day to the next, taking everything that can be used elsewhere (tables, chairs etc...) and leaving the rest standing as it is. After the falling of Hodxa, no one seems to have wanted to run the factory. This seems to be true for everything created during the communist era, now inspiring just hate and destruction. Some of the next buildings roofs have collapsed, burned or rotten. We find an other, coal covered huge hall. This one seems to be dedicated to the elaboration of CO2 filters for submarines, the floor is covered with small cylindrical black sticks. Again, devastation and destruction, boxes are teared up, smashed open on the floor...

In the back of this great area, lower buildings hold workshops, in the distance we can her machines and voices. at least this art is being use to something useful. We decide not to disturbed and leave. On out way out, the men are still sitting at the cafe, sipping coffee and what seems to be water. Tauschia knows the woman working here from the tie she was at the Baskia –the town hall. She was working there before the new major was elected. Because here, when the new major is elected, the whole staff of the Baskia is changed. Most of the documents are also taken away by the leaving party. The newly elected major starts off from scratch with a new staff, there is no continuity. A difficult working environment for the Peace Corps volunteers. So she decides to say hi. She is not here at the time but we still stay around since the men having coffee invite us to drink one with them.

At this point we realize that the 5 litter bottle under the table and the 1dl glasses on the table dont contain water but Raki. We soon get one of those glasses. Tauschia says no but still gets her glass filled. I am amazed by the smiling men serving huge glasses of Raki from his 5 litter bottle. His name is Andre and he just got this bottle from the distillery, like most people here, he makes his own Raki with his own grapes but everyone makes it in one place, hidden somewhere underground :) I tell him i ll drink just one but as we talk, sip coffee and Raki, the glass is refiled as soon as it is empty... Tauschia tried to warn me with her shaking head but i was to slow to react. I now have a second glass off this transparent, strong, but not so bad drink. Fortunately, the water glass also is automatically refiled. This process of emptying and refiling goes on, the glasses get bigger and bigger and they dont wait until the glass is empty anymore. After about 3 or 4 glasses, i start to get tipsy and the conversation more and more unreal. After explaining the difference between Shiptar and Albania, they are now arguing that Bush has an Albanian cousin or Grand Mother. We joke and say that Obama has a summer house in Gramsh. Everyone laughs. i might say that Americans are beloved in Albania for their involvement in recent history in the Balkans. The conversation turn around Albanians, how peaceful they are and how much mafia they are running outside their country. Inside Shiptaria, Albanians are the best people ever, peacefully living together, no matter if they are Muslims, Jews or Orthodox. Outside, it is an other story, they are mafia, drug lords, weapons sellers and make a bad reputation for Albanians.

This remembers me of something almost every Romanian apologized for when i was in Romania. The Roma people made a bad reputation for their country but in fact they, real Romanian are all the nicest people. So it seems that the bad people always are the first to leave and to handle with drugs, women and weapons... But in the Romanian case, only the Roma people made a mess :)

We finally manage to say goodbye and stand up from that crazy table, slightly drunk... i still have the regret that i refused an invitation for tomorrow night. I think i needed a bit of calm and mechanically refused the invitation. The new culture and 4 month traveling got me a little tired. No doubt, i now regret it and will get no other chance to share a traditional Albanian table. Before we walk out of the area, an old men brings us to visit the workshops in the back. There we meet Soni, he speaks perfect English and shows us around his workshop. He cuts all sorts of shapes out of local stones. Mostly plates for floors or walls, nice stones, nice cuts.

Tonight Peace Corps volunteers from Gramsh once again gather and we eat delicious vegiburgers and talk late into the night about education, volunteers, life...

Gramsh factories 1

Elbasan and Gramsh

(because of low connection speed, no pictures theese days, will put em up later...)
there they come:

Gramsh party

After passing at the offices, drinking the morning coffee, i walk around Gramsh with my own personal tour guide. Ergina is Jean-Luc’s niece and she takes me trough the old part of Elbasan. The Monastir from the 15^th century where the priest is busy healing a kid with reduced moblity is very well preserved. The paved streets, low white houses of wood and mortar, red roofs and great metal sculpted gates hiding big private green courts create an interesting atmosphere. The city wall are the most impressive remains of the antic times. We pass an impressive gate and enter a huge bar/restaurant/club place located in a well designed mix of antic and modern architecture with green and luxurious gardens. Ergina kindly offers to show me around and walk the hills and olive trees forest surrounding Elbasan in a couple days. But right noe i decide to go see my friends in Gramsh, I might come back later.

Around twelve, it is time for me to take to bus for 2 hours of a rattling roads up and down the hills between Elbasan and Gramsh. As i will get used to in Albanian buses, people are getting on and off the bus along the way, most of them know each other and chat, asking each other, from what i guess, about family and business. I start to discover this very different culture, a couple kilometers away from the very Balkan, touristic Ohrid, the difference is evident. First of all this familiarly with each other, asking how life is and as i understand more and more Albanian, i will notice how common this is. A conversation very often starts with basic, polite inquiries about each other. Very much like a famous French humorous movie pictures it in ancient Egypt:

-“Ca va?”
-”imothep”
-“Et la famille, ca va?”
-”imothep”

Except here they say “Mir”. Also, the head gestures have a very opposite emeaning, no and yes being inverted. Sometimes, they shake their head in a very Greek way, its neither a no or a yes, the head is sort of circling around to communicate that the question raffirmation is being considered, might signify an ok or maybe.

Anyway, back to my bus journey. I am surprised by the mix, from elder men to kids, people in suits to farmers, school girls and gel-haired trendy young men... And the motive of the trip also seems to wary a lot, according to the seriousness of talk and the numerous occurrence of “Leke”, the local money, some are here for business. Some carry around huge barrels of liquid, all sizes of beans, peppers or potatoes bags or big suitcases but most travel light. The neighbor man interrupts his chat with the people sitting behind him to provide his daughter with a plastic bag, she is sick and vomits what must have been her lunch. Poor girl is really suffering, convulsing and expelling every last bit she has in her stomach. We don't have to suffer the smells since he soon trows out the bag on the roadside along all the trash.

This trash everywhere is an other thing i will have to get used to all around Albania. It seems that since they are no longer under the strict repression of the communist regime, people are just dumping their garbage wherever they are. So in a country that was one of the cleanest in the world (under the represion) the roadsides are now full of cans, bottles, plastic bags and other stuff you wouldn't imagine.

As we arrive in Gramsh, i wonder wiych stop i should get of and ask for cafe Melissa, the place i am supposed to meet Tauschia. I am told i should get of now. As i make my way to the door, everyone wants to help and tells me i should get of at the next stop. A young dude speaking fluent English helps me out and gets of the bus with me. Together we get to the cafe and give Tauschia a call. She cant come now, a friend of hers will join mw soon. As nobody shows up, my friend from the bus stays around for hours waiting with me. Despite me telling him he does not have to stay, he keeps checking his watch and sticks with me, not wanting to leave me along for a second. I am discovering Albanians hospitality. This explains last nights gathering around me on the street. This is confirmed later, i am explained an Albanian will hardly ever let a stranger alone. He finally leaves for a meeting after insisting that i call him if nobody shows up.

But 30 mins later, Tauschia arrives with one of her friends. They are late because they had to go to a funeral... They are both peace corps (more about this great US organization later) and the father from her friends host family passed away electrocuted a couple days ago. It seems Tauschias family was not the nicest, very strict and conservative, all the opposite of this men with whom she also was very close. So she is also very touched by this loss.

Tonight the Gramsh peace corps and an extra two on visit from other Albanian cities trow a party for Brandon who is ending his 2 years service and leaving in a couple days. Mexican food, beer and Raki and good mood make it a nice late night of celebration.