Albanian Baddies, G-Wagons, and Savoury Pies from the Most Beautiful Restaurant Ever.
Albania—a land of rugged mountains, verdant valleys, and pristine beaches bathed in the golden Mediterranean sun.
Its beauty is not just skin-deep; beneath the surface lies a history of resilience and endurance, from the grip of communism to the shadows of organised crime. Albania ceased being closed off from the rest of the world around three decades ago, in the early 1990s. Yet, amidst the scars of its past, Albanians have emerged stronger, ready to share their culture, stories, and hospitality with the world. And that’s where it all started for me...
During my travels, I've stumbled upon a phenomenon as enchanting as it is unexpected. I always find a group of women who become my instant besties, no matter where I roam. It's like an impromptu sisterhood. In my decade of solo travels, I've collected these amazing women scattered across the globe, each one a gem in her own right.
Touching down in Tirana, I was brimming with anticipation. The heat was blazing, so I figured, why not hit the beach? I went to the main bus station, and amidst the maze of unfamiliar faces, the warmth of the locals shone through, guiding me to the bus stop. Soon, I was en route to Durres, settling into a charming hotel just steps away from the sandy beaches.
And there they were—these girls lounging on the beach nearby. One of them approached, saying her friend found me pretty and invited me to join them. I decided to seize the opportunity and greet the group. That evening, they picked me up from my hotel and we went for drinks at a busy beach party full of locals from Tirana. The managers, curious about me, soon were sending over drinks and shots. It was a hilarious start to my trip.
The next day, we embarked on an adventure to a hilltop restaurant with unbelievable views. As the sun set, we blasted iconic music, dancing in the car. Rolling mountains and lush vineyards unfurled before us, like scenes from a perfectly crafted postcard.
We arrived at a grand restaurant perched majestically on the hillside. A young lad, barely out of his teens, was serving up steaks with the finesse of a seasoned chef. The girls took charge and ordered for all of us. The chef, a veteran of the local culinary scene, brought over some red wine from their own vineyard and took us on a tour of the wine cellar. Albania's wine game is seriously underrated.
We immersed ourselves in those rich red wines, exchanging stories and laughing about life's absurdities, and of course, dissecting - boys? The food was incredible, we had different types of pies, steak, veggies, stews, the most perfect bread. But it was the view that truly stole the show. It was one of the most breathtaking views I have ever experienced from a restaurant—an unforgettable backdrop to an evening of sharing and becoming good friends in that moment. Even now, I consider it one of my favourite journeys.
And you know what? That's just the start of my Albanian escapade. From birdwatching to deep conversations and rural market jaunts. It's strange that people don't talk more about the food, considering how incredible it is. Every dish is seasoned perfectly and cooked to perfection, Tirana is where I probably ate some of the best food.
I indulged in a lot of traditional Albanian Byrek, a flaky pie made with homemade phyllo dough layers and a savoury filling. I found an exceptional place in Tirana—a corner hole-in-the-wall with no seating, take-away only. I took my Byrek back to my Airbnb around the corner and enjoyed it on the balcony. It was flaky and crispy, with a deliciously soft filling inside. I tried a cheese and spinach one, and I also sampled Byrek from various places—gas stations, corner shops, cafes, and restaurants.
There's this thing about Albania—you'll see G Wagons everywhere. These cars are like a status symbol here, a flashy way to show you've made it. A lot of it has to do with the Albanian diaspora. Folks working in places like Germany and Italy send money back home or bring these luxury cars with them when they return. But I was also told stories about organised crime boys from London, but that’s all I’ll say.
The guys brought a distinctive masculine energy, which was amusing as a solo female traveller. On a couple of occasions, a waiter would bring over a huge glass of wine, saying, "This is for you, it's a gift," with a note from admirers. Despite this, there was no pressure; nothing felt forced or uncomfortable because everyone was so genuinely lovely.
One of my favourite days was in Berat, the city of a thousand windows. I was staying in a charming guest house and struck up a conversation with the owner's son. He offered to take me to Karavasta Lagoon for birdwatching. This guy was practically a walking history book. We started the day with a beautiful breakfast his mother had prepared for us, and then we were off. We drove through a local market that was pure, unfiltered Albania, where they were trading chickens on bikes and selling clothes on plastic sheets on the ground. It was a world away from the more polished places I'd seen.
We eventually got to the lagoon, and it was very empty with not many people. We went on a serene boat ride in the swamps to see birds. The boat driver mentioned he’s not normally allowed to stop, but he did and let me get out in the swamp. I climbed a lookout to see the views from up there—it was stunning.
We then went to a restaurant in a nearby village. He asked me to keep the location a secret—didn’t want it overrun with tourists. We got different types of fish, potatoes, a beautiful salad, and the specialty, eel. He showed me how to eat it with my fingers and said that in Albania, they call them "ladies" because you have to handle them gently and with care. We both laughed about this. Watching him take pride in his culture, sharing stories and traditions with genuine passion—that’s what it’s all about and, like I said, it kind of made my trip.
During my time there, I visited Tirana, Durres, Vlora, Berat, and the Albanian Riviera towns like Ksamil, Himara, and Saranda. All very different, but I wouldn’t really say the food felt particularly regional like in India, for example. There were some differences and some special dishes like the eel I had, but it wasn't worlds apart. But that also makes sense because the country is so small.
The last stop was a secluded chapel on Zvërnec Island, a tiny Albanian isle in the heart of the Narta Lagoon. Here lies St. Mary's Monastery, a mediaeval Byzantine church where time seems to stand still. The journey begins with a stroll across a rickety wooden footbridge stretching over the placid waters of the lagoon. As you step onto the island, you're greeted by the monastery's ancient stone walls. Inside, the air is thick with history.
The Narta Lagoon adds another layer to the experience. It's a living, breathing ecosystem teeming with birdlife. The isolation here isn’t just physical; it’s a mental escape from the chaos of modern life. It’s a place where you can hear yourself think, where the silence is as profound as the history surrounding you.
From the moment I landed in Tirana, I was embraced by the unexpected kindness of strangers who guided me to the bus station, leading me to the enchanting beach town of Durres. There, I met an amazing group of girls who welcomed me with open arms, turning my trip into an extraordinary adventure.
Every day was a new chapter, from spontaneous road trips to hilltop restaurants with breathtaking views, to serene boat rides in the swamps of Karavasta Lagoon. I savoured incredible local cuisine, from the savoury Byrek in Tirana to the fresh seafood along the coast, each meal a testament to Albania’s rich culinary heritage.
Exploring hidden gems like the secluded St. Mary's Monastery on Zvërnec Island, I felt the weight of history and the beauty of untouched nature. These serene places contrasted beautifully with the vibrant markets and nightlife that showcased the country’s lively spirit. Moments of hilarity and unexpected encounters, like receiving anonymous gifts of wine from admirers or joining impromptu car dance parties, continually amazed me with the warmth and generosity of the Albanian people. They shared their stories, their culture, and their hearts, making me feel like a part of their community.
Albania is a place where the past and present coexist in a fascinating dance, where every corner holds a story, and where the land’s beauty is matched only by the spirit of its people. My journey through Albania was an immersion into a world of stunning landscapes, rich traditions, and unforgettable friendships. Here’s to Albania—a land that has captured a piece of my heart. Whether you’re seeking adventure, history, or genuine connections, Albania offers it all. I hope when you visit, you get to experience all of this and more.
The track I’ll leave you with you with today is Never Alone by Budgie.
Love,
Rez