Albania in Autumn Colors (page 4 of 6)

True, thankfully we walk a lot when traveling!

But for some destinations, it’s not a zero-sum game—you come back noticeably lighter than when you left! 😏

I really like this travel journal about Albania. It reminds me of what I saw in early September 2019. Here’s a photo of a little souvenir I bought at a local market.

Wow, just for that horseshoe, I’d totally make the trip! 😏 🤪

But with some destinations, it’s not a zero-sum game—you come back feeling way lighter than when you left!

It all depends on whether you factor in any potential stomach troubles you might run into while you're there 😕

Wow, just for the horseshoe, I’d totally make the trip!

Are you sure it’s a horseshoe? Wouldn’t it be more of a "protective charm"? Either way, hanging it on a doorframe definitely has its effect ;)

Oh wow, just for the horseshoe shape alone, I’d totally make the trip!

Are you sure it’s a horseshoe? Either way, hanging it near an entrance sure makes an impression ;)

No, it’s the shape that made me think of a horseshoe—or maybe a particularly stylish horse... Are Albanian mares fashionistas?

Albanian travel is worth it. I rarely bring back objects because most of the time they’re made on the other side of the world. Often it’s honey, jam, cakes, or clothes too.

It’s not a horseshoe, just the shape.

Thanks for the compliment! 😉

potential stomach troubles

Didn't have any issues in Albania on that front!

I was just including the difference between calories consumed and calories burned.

There’s only an hour’s drive between Përmet and Gjirokastër.

A bit longer if the traveler decides to make a stop in Tepelenë, the birthplace of the famous Ali Pasha of Janina, a historical figure used by Alexandre Dumas in his novel *The Count of Monte Cristo*.

The fortress offers stunning views of the Vjosa River, but its interior isn’t yet fully developed for visitors.





We don’t linger and head straight to our booked accommodation near the center of Gjirokastër.

Our host is a little surprised to see us arrive so early but gladly lets us leave our car in her parking lot.

That’s a relief—parking in the old town’s narrow streets isn’t easy!

Walking around without losing your breath isn’t either...

The steep climbs and descents are part of what makes the place so charming.

Come on, just a little more effort, and we’ll reach the gates of the Zekate House, a stunning Ottoman mansion turned museum.





From the top of the towers, we overlook the city and its castle. What a magnificent home and what an incredible location!



We’re now walking toward the old aqueduct that supplied water to the Gjirokastër citadel, now known as the Ali Pasha Bridge.





The structure is a little outside the city, and the walk would be very pleasant if not for the persistent presence of a retired Albanian man begging tourists for spare change to make ends meet.



The man is demanding, clingy, and doesn’t mince his words if a tourist offers him a coin that matches the country’s cost of living...

We manage to shake him off and head back to town for lunch.

Just a few steps separate our table from the castle, and we don’t waste any time crossing them.

The fortress is huge—we’ll stick to the basic visit without a ticket for the military museum.



Elegant Ottoman tower-houses cling to the hillside, while the plain below concentrates everything the 21st century has to offer at its ugliest...





We still have a little energy left—just enough to wander through the few souvenir and café-lined alleys.





It’s too bad that every historic center, no matter the continent, ends up looking like this.

Between the hotel and us stands another house-museum, the Skënduli House. The tour is led by its owner, but it’s hard to follow the endless stream of chatter from this talkative guide, who mixes several languages to explain the history and secret passages of his property.







I think we’ve exceeded today’s recommended daily steps to stay healthy!

And it’s not over yet—we’re heading back out for dinner...



Bon appétit !

You're amazing! I don’t think I could write about Morocco after just getting back from India! And I bet at the end of this one, you’ll write us: “one travel journal ends, another begins, here we go” 😉

I’ll try to finish this travel journal and the one on Thailand before starting my next trip, but I’m afraid there won’t be enough time! ;)

Oh come on, this won’t do at all! What’s with these people who are always on the go? 😎 It should be illegal to leave on another trip before finishing the travel journal from the last one! 😅

I'm hurrying! I'm hurrying! !😉

We leave the charming town of Gjirokastër in the morning, heading toward the coast.

Not without making a small detour to the famous natural site of the Blue Eye, a karst spring with waters so clear you could mistake it for a lagoon!

Well, natural... that’s a bit of a stretch.

While the spring itself remains much as it always has, its surroundings have been ruined by overtourism and greed.

That the parking is paid, that the entrance is paid—okay, some amenities are needed to preserve the place. Who hasn’t seen a site, even one that’s fairly hard to reach, trampled by the footsteps of too many hikers, wiping out all life in their path?

But that a road was built to allow trains, motorcycles, and all sorts of overpriced rented vehicles to get as close as possible to the spring? No way!





A small trail adapted for people with disabilities would’ve made sense, but for everyone else, a 30-minute walk didn’t seem like the end of the world...

So we start our walk feeling pretty disappointed, and that disappointment only grows with each step.

A restaurant, barriers... Okay, where’s this Blue Eye we came to see? Let’s get this over with!

We follow the crowd, now forced to walk, and reach what must’ve been a true slice of paradise 20 years ago.

The colors are stunning and help distract from the less-than-ideal surroundings.





Should we go back the same way or take this trail?

Let’s go for the trail!



We follow a path that winds into the vegetation—a path that climbs and descends, offering breathtaking views, a path barely trodden!





Finally, bliss!

You can’t take this trail on the way in because it doesn’t go past the ticket booth.

Staff funnel you toward the paved walkway instead.

Too bad, because the hiking path is way more enjoyable (though also a bit more challenging)!

We’re now about thirty kilometers away from Ksamil, a big seaside resort sprawling along the Ionian Sea.

How about lunch there?

The season’s winding down—the umbrellas are packed away, construction’s back in full swing, and swimmers are few and far between.



The prices at the restaurants still open target a crowd willing to blow a month’s salary on a week’s vacation with their toes in the sand...

I’d originally planned to stay two nights here, but I’m glad I changed my mind.

Ksamil’s charms didn’t exactly jump out at me, and it must be absolute chaos in the summer...



Chaos for those who think a beach should be almost deserted, peaceful, and free of haphazard construction.

Paradise for fans of perfectly lined-up umbrellas, blaring music, wild nights out, and international crowds.

To help digest the seafood spaghetti, I suggest a walk through the ruins of Butrint, located in a lovely shaded park.

Greek remains blend with Roman ones, all dominated by a Venetian tower.

















It’s not Pompeii or Ephesus, but there’s a certain charm to the whole place.

Next, we head to Himarë, where our hotel is located.

The room is pretty small, but the view is stunning. A fantastic spot for sleeping *and* dining!

Speaking of dinner, I think it’s being served. Candlelit risotto—bon appétit...

Your story makes it sound like a country where you yo-yo between preserved spots—some not at all geared toward tourism—and others where, on the contrary, everything that characterizes "bad tourist development" has been put into place 🤪