Visited Berat Fortress (aka “The White City” - a large fortress on a hill in Albania where the architects were idiots and designed the whole place, streets and buildings, out of white limestone. I get that it was rock from the local area, but it is usually 105+F degrees in the Berat (even 10 centuries ago) and slippery, blindly white stones only increase the heat and are painful to the eyes. I have no idea how the villagers handled the city in the olden days if it rained, as we were slipping on the smooth stoned pathways going uphill in the sunshine.
Berat used to be a bustling city of XXX people, but now only about 350 people live inside the Fortress walls, most of them are the older generation, as their children have moved down the hill since all the major schools, markets, doctors, etc. are situated in the valley below. The town is also nicknamed, “Town of 10,000 Windows”, as all the rooms in every building has multiple windows - bedrooms have 4-5 windows instead of the normal 2 or 3. Looking up at the buildings from the valley, it seems like all the houses flow into one another.
The Osum River runs through the valley, segregating the 2 lower towns of Berat, and flowing past the 2 mountain ranges on either side of the Fortress. Legend says that once there were two brothers who both fell in love with a woman named Osum. When they realized they both wanted to marry the same girl, neither would concede their proposal, so they fought each other to the death: one was stabbed and one was shot. God was mad at the brother’s pettiness, so he turned the siblings into the nearby mountain ranges where one has slashes in the side and the other has a crater on the top.
As for Osum, she got a bum deal; God told her she could see both brothers for eternity, but never be held again - he was going to turn her into the hill in the middle of the mountains that the Fortress now sits on. When Osum heard of her fate, she cried so much that her tears became the Osum River, and she is still crying today as the river is constantly flowing. The Ottoman’s God is vengeful.
After touring the whole White City, Louise organized a traditional Albania meal from a local restaurant in the Fortress. Again, this country seems to think people have 3 stomachs. Plate, after plate, of meat stuffed pumpkin, spicy eggplant, tomato and cucumber salad, appeared before the main course of baked lamb and chicken on a rice pilaf. The chicken and eggplant were very tasty (and all the Aussie’s loved the lamb, or possibly goat), but Albanian food is not a favorite of mine. Less agreeable or less pleasantly mixed flavors in dishes and strange consistencies of foods; one of the best veggie dishes resembled throw-up, but luckily tasted good.
Thoroughly stuffed, we hopped back in our van, which immediately lived up to its nickname (that I gave it) as “Narcoleptic Van”. We all seemed to nod off whenever we’re in it for longer than 15 minutes, and having full bellies did not help us stay awake. 2 1/2 hours later, we arrived in Kruje, a cute city on a hill with a small souk and, you guessed it, a Fortress. At Panoramic Hotel, we dropped our bags in our top floor room with a balcony over looking the Fortress and the valley below, before walking the closing souk and accompanying streets with Ann and Mary. Albania is a primarily Muslim country, so there were hardly any women walking around after sunset. All the coffee shops and restaurants held men drinking coffee and quietly chatting.
Robby and I woke up early the next morning to explore the souk when it was open before meeting up with everyone else for a tour of the local museum, but we apparently woke up before even the shop sellers, so instead, we decided to climb to the top of the lookout tower at the Fortress and have a nice coffee before meeting the others. The museum guide said he wouldn’t give only 7 people a tour, so we settled for reading the semi ok English interpretation placards on the walls of the museum.
The museum is dedicated to Albania’s National hero - George Castriot Skanderbeg. In the 15th century, his father had a disagreement with the Ottomans (him being a Christian, not Muslim), so they took one of his 4 sons, Skanderbeg, as a blood tax. Skanderbeg was forced to convert to Islam and enroll in the Ottoman army. He fought against the Turks until he was 32-years-old, when he deserted during the Battle of Nis (along with 300 of his friends) and went back to Kruje. For the next 25 years, he lead an army of 10,000 Albanians in various rebellions against the Ottoman Empire. He protected his hometown of Kruje against 3 different attacks. He sadly died around 62 years of age, not from battle, but from Malaria.
Across from the Skanderbeg museum was an ethnography museum - essentially an old Albania house with furnishings like the 1500’s, to give people an idea of how the Kruje people lived in the past. There was a large tour group with an English speaking guide wandering through all the rooms that Robby was excited to tag along with, but the rest of us tried to avoid any room they went into as a 10x10 space is quite uncomfortable stuffed with a bunch of people. Hearing about the history of the house was not worth being smothered.
Before driving to Montenegro, we had just enough time to pop our heads into the souk shops and see that most of the stuff was tourist trinkets - magnets, postcards, plaster Fortresses, but there was also pretty silver jewelry as well. We looked, but did not buy.
3 hours later, with a lovely 1.5 hour wait at the Albanian border exit, we arrived in Kotor, the City by the Bay. We did stop for 5 minutes to drool at st. Stephen XXX, a private island outside Budva, where you can’t step foot on the land without paying for a thousand dollar+ a night room at the hotel that covers 90% of the island. So, basically rich people and important people stay there while all us others daydream about what it would be like.
Louise put us up in a nice apartment complex about a 15 minutes walk from Stari Grad (old town) in Kotor. Once we settled in, she lead us on a small orientation walk. We walked down the apartment driveway and ended up at the waterway. Most of the walking path was about 4 feet wide with restaurant tables on one side and the actual water on the other. Every time a bike or jogger came by, we were scared we’d get pushed into the lake. But the water was about 60 degrees and crystal clear. During the day, many locals and visitors set up their towels on the pebbled shores and head for a swim.
There’s over 1350 steps that lead to the top of the Fortress and an amazing viewpoint for the town and bay of Kotor. If we started hiking before 8am, there wouldn’t be a ticket guard asking for the $11 entry fee, so we all made a plan to head over there at 7am the following morning. For the evening, we ate local seafood and enjoyed Montenegro wine while listening to the waves lap against the stone walkway.
When 7am came the next morning, I did not leave my bed. I had spent most of the night in the bathroom and begrudgingly opted to sleep away my sickness. It sucked because I was the one who had been pressing everyone to hike the steps with me for days, even wanting to hike at 5am, so I could be at the top for sunrise, and here I was dying in a small studio apartment. Robby came back 4 hours later regaling me with tales of her grand off trail adventure of jumping through a 16th century church window and onto the old road of Kotor - literally the only way to the castle besides the steps since it was built 500 years ago. She explored all the house and church ruins near the steps and then came back to the Fortress grounds for the iconic picture at the top.
In the afternoon, I managed to make it to the apartment courtyard for an impromptu picnic lunch with everyone else. They’d all visited the farmers market after their hike and had piecemealed veggies, bread, salami, and fruit. The owner of the apartments donated a bottle of homemade wine (very sweet so Robby loved it), and we submitted chocolate. With food in my belly, I thought I was strong enough to make it to Old Town and maybe walk the steps. I instead made it half a mile from the apartment, stopping 3 times to rest and had to take a taxi back to the apartment after stocking up on medicine from the pharmacy.
Robby and the Aussies went on a private history tour of Kotor while I tried to sleep, but instead made a pilgrimage to the local hospital for fluids and more drugs. Everyone said I had a 24-hour bug (possibly from accidentally drinking Albanian water), but I was paranoid. The 22-year-old doctor didn’t seem too worried when she saw me, so I shouldn’t have worried. Luckily the next morning, I was actually feeling 80% better and managed to walk to Old Town without stopping once. We went early since we were heading to Sarajevo at 10am and got to explore an almost empty town. What was apparently crowded with tourists the day before was peacefully void of foot traffic at 8 in the morning.
On the way to Sarajevo, Louise surprised us with a 5 minute boat ride out to Our Lady of the Rocks church on a small manmade island off of Perast. In the 16th century two brothers saw the image of the Virgin Mother in the rocks of Perast, so they convinced the town to build a church in honor of Mary. But since everyone was building churches on land, the brothers started off a 200 year construction of an island built on the bones of broken ships and rocks where the church would live. When everything was finished in the 1700’s, people left gifts of silver or priceless art works in honor of the Holy Mother. It’s said that whomever leaves a silver trinket will have their ailments cure. I had truly wished I had silver on me when we went through the halls so I could walk away 100% better. Next time.
We had a tradition Montenegro lunch - trout and veggies or lamb and potatoes with local wine, at Izlazak Etno Village. We essentially drove on a small road, where one car had to back up to let us pass, to reach a restaurant on top a hill over looking the most torequise lake I’ve ever seen. The lake is part of the Piva River and the “Piva” is solvic for beer; just kind of funny. Montenegro food is way tastier than Albania food and the beautiful setting helped make lunch a hit with everyone.
We drove for an hour until we hit the Bosnian border and a ton of traffic that didn’t move. Zejko said we could get out and have a coffee at the roadside cafe because he could see us in his slow crawl towards the checkpoint. 53 mins later we were through and weaving our way past a tree covered National forest and small villages on our way to Bosnia and Herzegovina’s capital. He arrived at dusk and had time to walk the souk and eat a good meal before calling it a night.
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