Albania
Date: June 18 – 21
June 18 | Gusinje to Tamare
We skipped the final 7 km loop of the TD route yesterday, taking a shorter way across a bridge and past a shanty town – a side of life we hadn’t seen anywhere else on this trip. At home, we’re used to seeing homeless people in our streets, but here, apart from a few beggars near TMZs, there’s been no visible sign of real poverty.
We backtracked this morning to ride the loop, and The Navigator earned another gold star by insisting we follow a small sign to Ali Pasha’s Springs – a series of big, pools with around 25 outlets producing a constant flow of clear water at 6°C all year.
Ali Pasha was a rebel leader in the early 19th century, battling whichever empire was in charge at the time. This spot was his favourite place to refresh himself after a slaughter or raid. Eventually he was beheaded, but remains a local hero – thousands gather each August to sing, dance and stage processions in his honour. Almost worth waiting for, but we filled our bottles and ambled on.
Albania was calling, although quite frequently in history, we were already there. The border shifted regularly at the whim of Venetians, Austro-Hungarians, Ottomans and assorted politicians with little connection to the people who live near them, and when you traverse them you find that the line is never clearly drawn, but is actually a gradation from one culture to the next.
Not far out of town, on a very quiet road, we passed through customs with a hvala on one side and a faleminderit on the other and arrived in Albania, and saw our first Hoxha bunker.
Enver Hoxha, the communist dictator from 1944 to 1985, was more than a little paranoid about invasion, and he ordered the construction of 750,000 bunkers for his citizens to hide in and fight back. He didn’t provide guns or ammo, though, and when his general suggested that a properly funded and trained army might be more effective, he had the general shot.
Albania has moved on a long way since then, but the bunkers remain, scattered everywhere like concrete mushrooms.
Tamare is a strange little place — a village split in two by a river running through a very attractive gorge. One side is all locals, the other is a newly constructed “boutique village”, essentially a pedestrian mall lined with restaurants and accommodation. The one tiny but incredibly overstocked mini-market is worth visiting for the chaos alone – goods stacked to the ceiling and spilling onto the floor with zero regard for stock rotation or western notions of inventory control.
Most of the 20 or so cafés had only a few locals sitting around. As virtually the only real customers, we felt a bit conspicuous eating our beautifully smoky, charcoal-roasted vegetables for dinner.
June 19 | Tamare to Boge
Hills. Big hills.
After a 5 km warm-up, we hit a fabulous 520 m serpentine climb, then cruised along a lovely rural road. One woman responded to our wave by inviting us in for refreshments — unfortunately we were already past before we realised.
Next came another, much gentler, 600+ m climb to the grandly named Boga Alpine Resort. It’s really more of a campground with cabins, plus a partially finished three-storey one-day-it-will-be-a-hotel. They have a good little restaurant, too, so we settled in.
There’s also a pool and a refreshingly loose approach to health and safety. Apparently, children don’t immediately drown when they come across an unfenced pool. They also don’t fall off unprotected balconies. Instead of rules on top of rules, they seem to rely on something called “common sense”. It wouldn’t work at home, but it’s everywhere here. There’s no hi-viz, no orange cones, no safety gear, no OSH, no ACC, just people taking responsibilty for themselves without rules and regulations.
The next day was a rest day so we went for a wee ride in the morning – 650 m up to the pass at the end of the valley to look down on the next destination, as usual through a blanket of stickers left by motorcycle touring clubs. We weren’t going to Theth, since (pronounced ‘thinth” after thaying Theth) the two days that follow would have been too tough and required camping. Riding unladen bikes was a real treat, although it rained, and at the top we bought a packet of mountain tea from an old man selling herbs and honey. Jill could probably tell you what’s in it but it’s very refreshing in a green tea kind of way.
June 21 | Boge to Shkoder
Fueled by a traditional Albanian breakfast – eggs, puffy pancakes, chutney and more – we coasted all the way to Shkoder, on the shores of the largest natural lake in the Balkans.
The city is touted as the most Italian-like in the region. We arrived on a Saturday afternoon just as the endless overstocked dress shops, hardware stores and junk stalls were closing. It did have that run-down southern Italian vibe, but also felt a bit like Vietnam 20 years ago – tangles of electric wires, thousands of bikes, and a kind of chaotic energy that works.
We’re planning to nip back into Montenegro next to see an unspoilt Old Town, something I didn’t believe could still exist.
Max elevation: 1342 m
Min elevation: 328 m
Total climbing: 734 m
Total descent: -1328 m
Total time: 04:22:14
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Max elevation: 933 m
Min elevation: 188 m
Total climbing: 1490 m
Total descent: -814 m
Total time: 06:02:19
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Max elevation: 1674 m
Min elevation: 940 m
Total climbing: 911 m
Total descent: -891 m
Total time: 02:40:10
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Max elevation: 945 m
Min elevation: 3 m
Total climbing: 256 m
Total descent: -1191 m
Total time: 04:14:45
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I’m really enjoying your trip sitting on a very comfortable couch!
Cheers Mark
Fabulous cycling Steve, what a cycle journey, but the hills! Those elevations in your altitude map stats are impressive and some of those downhills look truly spectacular. Stay upright and keep ‘em coming. Xxx J