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Hello again, and goodbye from Albania.  We’re getting ready to move on to North Macedonia today, so I suspect today’s blog entry may be brief and even more uninteresting than normal.

Had pretty bad meat sweats from that mixed grill last night.  Think I might go full vegetarian tbh.  

Believe me, food is the last thing on my mind at the moment, but with a circa 3 hour journey ahead from Durrës to Ohrid, lunch isn’t guaranteed later, and we’ve collectively agreed to head into Durrës centre for a light brunch on the way through.  We park up and aim for the main road that goes up from the Venetian Tower.

We find a nice little patisserie called Pelikan, and start drooling over the selection of fancy sweet treats laid out in glass cabinets inside.  Funny how there’s always a bit of extra space in the stomach for desserts!

I went for a wee fruity tart paired with the now compulsory Fanta Exotic, and it was very nice indeed!

As we were walking towards the restaurant, I noticed that the Venetian Tower was open, and we’d been told from one of our earlier tour guides how they have quite cool 3D projections inside.  I thought it would be worth a quick look. 

Unfortunately it was cash only, meaning we had to raise necessary funds to enter.  Given we were about to leave Albania, it made no sense to get more money out.  Instead, I turned my hand to a spot of busking.  (Not really, but can you just imagine me singing on the side of a street for money!) 😂. Crisis averted, mum had a bit of cash left over in her purse.

The tower was part of the old city walls built in the 5th century.  They were gradually added to over time, and this particular tower was added by the Venetians in the late 14th century.  (As an aside, it was said at one point in history that the walls of Durrës were so thick, four horsemen could ride on top of them.  Didn’t say what they were riding, so I’m picturing them on those fold up kick scooters that were popular for all of 5 minutes in the mid 2000s.)

Inside, the projections did not disappoint, with a 3D painted scene cast onto the inner ceiling.  Some pressure pads on the floor add additional information on recent discoveries via excavation.

Beside the front door, a short, winding staircase leads onto the roof, which is frying in the strong sunshine.  The views are pretty cool from there!

We hear a lot of honking coming from the “Westlink” beside.  It seems there’s a cavalcade for a wedding passing through the tunnel. 

It grinds to a halt, and all of a sudden, there are some very impatient drivers wishing to offer the happy couple a piece of their mind rather than congratulations.  With the traffic completely stuck? It’s quite funny watching one driver revving his engine furiously while the driver in front has got out of his cars (in the middle of the road) to see what’s going on!

It seems we’ve cracked the highway horn code here in Albania.  Short honk for a near miss, prolonged honk for a – ‘you’re blocking the road and I can’t get through, get back in your car’, and several prolonged honks to celebrate a friend or family member’s wedding!  (Having a passenger lean out through the window, or standing with their head through the sunroof is also strongly encouraged!)

The traffic soon clears and normal order is restored on the road.  (And by that I mean total carnage!)

So off we go through the Albanian countryside, bypassing Tirana.  Over the last week or so, I’ve oft lamented the state of Albanian roads, and there was another example of just how unsuitable they are today.  We’re on the ‘motorway’ (if you can even call it that) just beyond Tirana.  It’s actually a half decent road, with three lanes, and the limit is 110 kph (that’s just short of 70 mph).  All of a sudden we encounter dozens of stopped cars in both lanes.  The road has dropped a lane, with plastic blocks in the middle of where the fast lane was, and the speed limit gone from 110 down to 40 kph coming off a blind corner with no prior warning.  How there wasn’t a pile up there is beyond me.  

Further on, it’s a single lane most of the way, and at times the tarmac gives way to gravel.  These roads are all temporary, while roadworks are being carried out, but I just cannot believe that this is the main road between two capital cities in Europe.

The city of Elbasan is about halfway between Durrës and Ohrid, and once we get through there it’s all hands on deck to find a petrol station – the dial is now in the red.  Needless to say, finding the petrol station wasn’t so much the problem, rather paying when we got there.  We’ve found out the hard way that anyone beyond Tirana is living in the dark ages, and card payment (or ATMs) just aren’t an option. 

After a couple of failed attempts, we try one place between Librazhd and Perrenjas.  The operator doesn’t speak English, but by waving a credit card he seems to get the idea.  After filling up the car to the max, he just walks off with Dad’s card.  Don’t worry, nothing dodgy, but I’d be curious to know what we would have done if the card had been declined, or his machine not working.

Once we’ve fuelled up (and paid), the next pressing concern is the impending border crossing from Albania to North Macedonia.  We’ve been warned that we’ll probably need a Green Card to enter North Macedonia, but this is easily sorted at the border.  Haha, how did we not foresee problems!

We first cross through the Albanian side of the border (an absolute breeze) and then encounter a length queue of cars waiting to get through the North Macedonian side.  It’s a very slow moving queue, and probably because most have made the same mistake that we have.  We find ourselves in the wrong lane of traffic, (the one for Macedonian nationals rather than the one for everyone else, but ultimately this doesn’t matter anyway.  Once we reach the top of the queue, the guard asks to see our green card.  Oh dear.

Because we don’t have a green card, we’re told to pull in to the side while we wait to get it sorted.  There are people in the border area that can help us get sorted, but we’ve driven a long way past them, so we’ll need to trek about 2km at the side of the main road (with no footpath) to get there.  Our car is in an area in no mans land at the border, and they’re not going to let us drive it.  It’s ok, with no cash, we’re told they’ll take card ok.  

When we find an appropriate cabin, we find an elderly mostly bald gentleman behind a computer.  Again English isn’t brilliant, but he understands ok that we’re in need of a green card, and he is in a position to help.  We ask, do you take card and the answer is no.  Crap!  What on earth do we do now?  There’s no ATM for a good 30 miles, our car is kind of stuck at the border, and we’re not going to get through without a green card, which we have no method of paying for. 

I leaf through my wallet and find £40 in Sterling which I had totally forgotten that my mum had given me at Heathrow.  This was our only shot.  We pass it over to the man and he inspects it (quite intensely).  I am sweating buckets from the heat, long walk and pressureful situation that we find ourselves in.  I find another £1 coin in my wallet and pass that over too – as if £1 will make any difference.  The man puts the notes into his drawer and starts typing into his computer.  I don’t know if he’s checking an exchange rate or happy enough, but we really have to press him hard for an answer.  ‘Good?’  ‘Good’ is the reply!  Praise God!

After he has printed the documentation (which appropriately is on green paper, but inappropriately not on green card – not that we care one bit at this point!), he reaches back into his drawer and returns one of the two £20 notes. We’d been told that these green cards can cost in the region of €15-€50, so the gentleman has probably got a good deal there, and without sounding disrespectful, I don’t think any of that money is going to make it as far as his company bank account!  We thank him a lot, shake all of his hands several times, and make our way out back towards the border.  As I exit, I look back to find the guy examining the £1 coin with a look of sheer

joy on his face.  It seems we’ve made his day, and I can tell you with certainty that he’s made ours too!

Back at the border, we hand over the missing paperwork to the guy at the booth, and retrieve our passports which had been held ransom.  Phew!  Now let’s get into North Macedonia before they change their mind!

Over the border and everything looks very undeveloped.  There’s very little going on, and again houses look below the poverty line.  The town of Ohrid is only 34 minutes from the border, and sits on the top right corner of the lake which bears the same name.  We’ll try and do a bit more exploration of the lake tomorrow, but for now our priority is getting to our accommodation – Villa Saraj.

On the approach, we drive through a historic gate, onto narrow cobbled streets, and find a small arrow with the name of the accommodation at the top of a hill.  So far, so good!

We offload our bags, get sorted out with keys etc, and head down a set of steps into the heart of the old town.  The first thing we see is the Church of Saint Sophia.  Its classic Byzantine Orthodox architecture, with a red tiled roof, and according to Wikipedia, was converted to a mosque during Ottoman rule, then converted back probably around the start of the 20th century.  

There’s some beautiful green grass in the church grounds, and a few people around either taking photos, or just sitting enjoying the tranquil setting.

Beside the church is a very welcome site indeed – that of an ATM.  In fact, there are at least 3 on this one street.  So I can say with confidence that we’ve encountered more auto banks in the space of 100 metres here, than probably the last 100 km.  

The currency here is the North Macedonian Dinar, and it’s about 73 of these to every £1.  I get some cash out, but it looks like this place is a lot more touristy than Albania, and I don’t think we’ll have the same issues trying to pay for stuff by card.

The charming historic backstreets take us down to the lake-side, and we pick a nice looking restaurant for dinner.  It’s called Dalga.

We enjoy the last throws of the sunset, while waiting (quite a long while) for the food to arrive.  A 3 piece folk band play while we wait, and everyone is having a great time.  5 cats are prowling the wall beside, but despite giving me the eyes looking for good, are not happy with the slice of orange I’ve given them from my plate.  Talking about biting the hand that feeds you!  

After dinner, we climb the dark and tricky steps back up to Villa Saraj, then collapse

into our beds.  What a day