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After the early start yesterday, it was such a pleasant experience lying in until 10am today.  We woke up to discover that heavy overnight rain had flooded the balcony.

Dad was up earlier, so headed down into Durrës town centre to pick up some groceries.  When he returned, we waded through the water to the dry half of the balcony and tucked into some cheese and ham rolls.

At about half 1, we ventured back out to see the sights and sounds of Durrës:  the first of which referred to as the Venetian Tower.

Now if you go round the world, Venetian Towers aren’t uncommon, mostly resembling the Belltower of St. Mark’s Cathedral in Venice.  This one though is pretty unspectacular, and a big standard stone tower made by the Venetians in the 5th century.  The old city of Durrës is fortified, and this would have been one of the many watchtowers built into the city walls.

To be honest, I was more interested in Albania’s version of the Westlink just beside the tower – an underpass / bridge with high walls.  The road here is far less congested than its equivalent in Belfast, and I really appreciated the giant canopy overhead, protecting from the hot mid afternoon sun. 

They say only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun – add the Hull family to that list!

A few observations while walking into the centre of Durrës – there are a lot of new buildings (clearly they are trying to turn Durrës into a new tourist hotspot), but there are a lot of buildings (which look lived in) which are either unfinished or needing serious repair.  The difference between the haves and have nots here is quite stark.

The main road up from the Venetian tower is tree lined, and combined with a hint of colonial architecture – the place has a whiff of France (figuratively not literally – the literal smell is a blend of sewage, rotten waste, and car fumes).

By this point, the warm sun is now taking its toll, so we pop into a streetside bar to cool down.  It’s called Traiano.

After taking a few cute pics through the window, I join my parents inside and spot the place is kitted out with more stuffed teddies – don’t know what the obsession is here, but it’s uncanny.  This place has nice vibes though!

Fuelled up with another Fanta – which interestingly enough don’t taste anything like the ones back home (far too bitter), we’re ready to face the hot conditions once more.  

Across the road from the restaurant is a sign pointing in the direction of the Amphitheatre.  When we arrive, I’m disappointed to find that they have closed for a three hour siesta in the middle of the day.  We do a lap around the perimeter, and I make a mental note to return when they reopen at 5pm.

The tree lined French boulevard leads us to Sheshi Liria – the Town Square of Durrës.  Surrounding the square are three buildings of some significance:  the Town Hall (a reddish blocky kind of building that looks like something you’d see in America), the Aleksandër Moisiu Theatre (which is covered in scaffolding and thus I’ve made no effort to research), and the Great Mosque of Durrës (with a tall sharp minaret seeming to pierce the sky).  Albania is a very non religious country, but Islam is the predominant religion.  The Albanian version of Islam though is a much more tolerant and liberal version that you’d find in the Middle East – most of them drink alcohol for instance which is meant to be forbidden in the Quran.

I spot a soft ice cream machine outside a restaurant.  The server didn’t speak a word of English, so brought me inside where a colleague was sat behind a computer at a table.  I notice the TV is showing Moto GP practice, and go “Marc Marquez yay?” thinking pretty much everyone must be a Marquez fan these days given he’s wiping the floor.  Turns out they’re Bagnaia fans (oh well, they’ve had an awful season, so judgement or a sarky comment from me is the last thing they need right now!)

Anyway, ice cream in hand (and dripping all over it) and we’re ready to go. 

I’ve noticed quite a few stray dogs in Durrës so far.  They look completely malnourished, and lacking any kind of energy.  Most are just sprawled on the floor and it’s a sad sight to see.

Having had a look last night at Google Maps, I’m intrigued by the prospect of the ‘Durrës Balcony’.  I set the coordinates on the map and we’re led up a pretty steep hill.  Mum’s complaining quite a lot (which is usual for her on steep hills), but I tell her the view will be worth it in the end.

Alas the view was worth it in the end, but poor mum had already bailed out halfway up and pulled out her Kindle.  The balcony was a 360 degree round terrace overlooking the central square and mosque. 

Again from here, we got a very clear comparison of the haves and have nots.  Huge multi storey new build apartment blocks down by the seafront, versus tiny dilapidated houses covered by rusty sheets of corrugated steel.  It’s another sobering site.

We’re not yet done climbing though, as the Royal Villa sits atop a quite steep hill.  This once belonged to King Zog I.  Zog was born in 1895 and at the age of 27 became Albania’s youngest ever prime minister.  After three years of that, he was upgraded to president, then promoted himself to King in 1928.  His downfall came in 1939 when his Italian allies (led by Benito Mussolini) invaded, essentially stabbing poor Zog in the back.  He was forced to flee to England, France and later Egypt and was barred from ever returning to his native Albania.  Fortunately he brought what was left of the country’s money with him, so didn’t exactly life a life of austerity as a refugee.

After World War II, a communist government were installed, and this lasted all the way until 1992.

Anyway, what does all this have to do with the Royal Villa?  Well this was once one of Zog’s palaces, but was left abandoned when he went on the run, and remains so to this day.  You can pay €3 to go inside, but while the outer facade looks nice, it’s just a sad empty shell of a place.  I could totally imagine this as a luxury hotel.

Again all this steep climbing has taken its toll, and a small cafe at the top of the hill is perfectly placed to revive us again for the walk back.  I walk inside to find 4 middle aged men (mostly bald) sat around a table talking business.  One of them is wearing a police uniform.  I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve just walked in on a local mafia meeting.

None of the men speak any English, so we have a largely awkward encounter until one man has the bright idea of using Google Translate.  Anyway, all is well and the shop is indeed open for drinks.

We descend back down the hill and remarkably find ourselves back at the Amphitheatre just after 5pm.  It’s now taking visitors, and we spend a couple of Euro to go inside (to be honest, I was only really interested in the physical ticket for my holiday scrapbook).

The amphitheatre is a far less impressive version of the ones we’ve seen before in Verona, Pula and Rome, so Dad and I are forced to use our imagination to make the place more interesting.  When doing some embarrassing Gladiator style poses, I turn around and spot a fairly sizeable French tour group just staring down at us as if to say ‘what le heck?’  We swiftly dust ourselves off and run for cover reflecting on our shame.

By this stage, a few spots of rain have started to fall, but it’s quite refreshing in the warm temperatures.  We return to our apartment to freshen up and head back out for dinner.

Earlier we’d sussed out a few options for food on the seaside, but it’s the last one we come to (Aragosta) which has a menu good enough for us to commit.  

With the benefit of hindsight, I’m glad we did.  The sun had now set below the horizon, but there was still a lovely golden tinge to the sky. 

The food was excellent too – I went for a pizza and Greek salad

Tomorrow we’ve got a tour booked, so off to bed now. See you tomorrow!