Albania: Surrealism in the last European frontier
What can you expect from a state whose official language is called Tosco? Surrealism in its purest form. The country seems to be emerging from a terrible war. Sleep destroyed and convalescent communist dictator Hoxha.
Entering from Macedonia are the Bunkers me that his paranoia was built across the nation. They call them pill boxes (pillbox) by mushroom. Factories in ruins, bridges destroyed, grayness and rust, but also impossible to tame wild. Misery ensues along with some restaurants and luxury hotels. And Mercedes Benz. Mercedes Benz of all ages, sizes and models. Albania is full of them. All stolen, clear. And no wonder. I came here but across the Balkans and the green card and passport, I have not had to show any other document.
Elbasan is a medium population. Behave as they please. Will driving schools in Albania? Will they pass examinations or given away or sold directly to driver's licenses? Stop in a workshop to ask if they have stickers in their country or know where I can get them and I appeared to puzzle me a real welcome. They invite me to coffee and pastries, the owner sends an apprentice to fetch adhesives. ¿Ah, but perhaps I'm already?, is strange pattern. No way, Case, I have to know the castle. Almost forced me to get on a car that may depict the unexpected visitor the historical wonders of the city. They are so proud of her and are so friendly that I feel elated and happy again. So be traveling by motorcycle. These are the things that remind me why I do what I do. This warmth, this interest and sympathy. These eyes, These gestures of kindness free the poorest countries ... this is my bike ride.
My fate is decided and, instinctively, ignoring and disobeying some other
They insist that visit the town of Berat, in the Midwest. My fate is decided and, instinctively, ignoring and disobeying some other. The road is bad, there are potholes, rains and the drivers are killers. No bikes in Albania. I arrive at the destination and closed at night and find a lively city. In the center, cross the bridge, following the indication Gorica Park Castle Hotel. There is a real castle, but a modern copy of what a corny can understand a fairy tale castle. The interior is unpretentious luxury, with dark wood furniture, Drinking glass, fine linens, stuffed animals. A frenzy of new rich or gangster with artistic pretensions.
But the important thing is that the room with breakfast costs 30 euros and I'll have a big bed, a clean bathroom and a dinner in a position. Even better than I expected, because one of the things that happen in Albania, the country of surrealism, is that everything is real. The food also.
Is a group of four men. One is old, another is strong, beyond the petty and I have more about it is low and stubby. Speak Italian with a southern accent. I ask. Son of Naples. What the hell do four Neapolitans Albania? Four men alone without partner? Tourism certainly not. Your business should not be too clean and imagine having to do with the country's main industries: the import of stolen cars and weapons trafficking.
I was struck by the number of young people there. Boys, children, teens. Albanian is a town that plays fast. There are mosques but also churches. In fact, the two largest that there are opposite each other in the main square. The men drink coffee outside or on the terraces. I have not yet heard the muezzin's call to prayer, and no difficulty in finding alcohol.
Like Albania, your safety here's your problem. If you go threw himself drunk, your fault
Berat is considered the oldest city in Albania. It has an interesting historic cobblestones and an impressive castle on a hill. They're celebrating a wedding inside. A small crowd danced to the sound of electronic music. I take a walk along the ramparts watching the panorama. There are no guardrails or warnings of danger. Like Albania, your safety here's your problem. If you go threw himself drunk, your fault and no one can claim a responsibility that only you will compete. It makes me feel good that respect for personal autonomy. Enough of that management treats us as children or deep subnormal. I claim my right to be wrong, to suffer the consequences of my thoughtless acts without forming part of the state's obligations to ensure the soundness of those decisions that can affect just me.
Mud road
Decisions such as taking the wrong road. I want to go south through the interior of the country to Kelquire. The people who ask me advised not to go around, to take a detour over 100 miles because the road, the "Rruga" in Rough, very bad. They do not understand that's just what I want, bitch track where passing bad fun. Italian type appears broken. Tattooed, with tank top and sunglasses ray ban stick. Coñón, ensures this bike will not have problems. The others laugh sideways. It is clear that he thinks I'm going to spend hard time. But if the foreign gentleman wants to put his new BMW on the scree, forward, that scones. "It is not too bad", says with the smile of a hyena.
The track is really bad. Baja mountain climbs and converted into a river gravel. When there is no gravel, There are huge stones, when there are no stones, for mud. This mud is the worst. Mixed with covers, the bike skate this semi liquid mass and drift. Fall several times. But I advance through spectacular scenery. There's nobody here. This is horrible even for Albanians. I pass the occasional car 4X4, but practically I'm alone. Sometimes they find remains of stone or even small patches of asphalt on the road. This was a road makes 80 years. Water, rain, snow, procrastination, Mercedes have been biting and tearing.
When really steep, twist the grip and the bike climbs like a cat. Came to several dead villages. Sunken roof, crumbling shacks, mangy and sickly dogs. Some human beings are moved between the stones as survivors of a bombing. Begins to blur when you start a steep fall full of stones from the slopes. I hope there is another mountain to climb.
Late afternoon, reached the plain and asphalt. Malo, wizened, but asphalt. It starts to rain torrents, a jarrear, a deluge. The road is flooded and the bike up waves that put gallons of dirty water in my boots. The first people look at me dumbfounded. How I can come to the mountains? Despite the storm, try to get to Sarande, on the coast. I have to overcome a recent string of mountains. Stops raining, dawns and reached the port with a spectacular sunset that burns the bay.
The room has a large window facing the sea. Corfu floats before me like a distant Stone Raft
The town blends the typical tourist abandonment Albanian. Meeting room on the waterfront. The receptionist has an impressive new Mercedes says it has cost 20.000 Second-hand euros. “Segunda mano”, euphemism often. The room has a large window facing the sea. Corfu floats before me like a distant Stone Raft.
A las diez sale un ferry. Hour and a half of peaceful navigation and arrived at the Greek port which are responsible for reviewing the documentation thoroughly vehicles, including the serial number. I guess this is to avoid being reintroduced from Albania cars stolen in Europe, but although much shouting and gesticulating inspector, seems that is not all so serious. One of the passengers had managed to get into the EU a luxury car that claims to be the name of his wife, of which does not provide or authorization documents or. ¿Surrealismo? Not, Europe's last frontier.
Comments (4)
Backpacker
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Go gives you picture Albania. In addition to car thieves, What can be found there?
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Miquel Silvestre
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Very friendly people that make me feel good, as I explained in one paragraph?
With regard to Albania is the quintessential market of stolen cars, is an objective that does not deserve to be discussed.
If you do not like facts, Albania will not and do not read the New York Times, who hates the Albanian insurance.
http://www.nytimes.com/1997/08/16/world/albania-s-auto-industry-dealing-in-stolen-cars.html
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Miquel Silvestre
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http://www.independent.co.uk/news/european-times-durres-albania–albania-more-mercs-than-germany-1192108.html
Or the Independent, than yellow as, ensures that there are more Mercedes per capita in Germany.
The thing is so obvious, outrageous and surprising, which is the highlight of a country; that and the post-communist cemetery that has become all the heavy industry.
Otherwise, is a cojonudo. Go, go and tell me.
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Gonzalo Castro
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I was in Tirana, Albania's capital, a few months ago and saw many of the things said in this text. The Mercedes was parked in a row, in some areas, while others seem to just be a bombing. They are lovely people, as in many places, fast but when trying to get what they want. There is not easy to negotiate. It always amazes me that people need to read that the world is rosy. It is not anywhere, even in Spain, and it's okay to explain or denounce. Another thing to fall into the topics, find them and exploit them until they become the only reality. Is not the case in this text, course, but people like Backpacking (I do not know what your name), probably not been in Albania, seems to say there Mercedes, BMW and Audis stolen is politically incorrect. But, there are many, yes.
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