Escaped from yacht world in Montenegro (it’s really just Caravan Club for rich people, just with Crystale instead of UHT milk). Our minibus down to the capital of Albania, Tirana was fun. We were lucky enough to have the wonderful musical accompaniment of that young, some would say sexy (I think I probably would), Iglesias fellow (not the old dead classical guy – his son… can’t remember his name) and Avril Lavigne on a loop. For four hours.
Tirana itself was very cool. Fantastically vibrant city that felt really on the up. Funky bars and restaurants. And finally we found somewhere cheap. Had a delicious dinner of grilled meats, bread, salad, beer and mineral water for equivalent of 4 euros each.
Kept singing different Albanian anthems that I made up in my head. It started with “Albanian Families” to the tune of the 1980s TV advert for “Sylvanian Families”. And then it went on. “We’re the kids of Albania, woah” and “Welcome to Tirana” (to the Manu Chao song “Welcome to Tijuana”) were my faves.
Albania has far more similarities with India than with any country in Europe I’ve ever seen. The toilets are fecking disgusting (I’d go so far to say, worse than India), power outages and water shortages are the norm, and the “roads” are in a complete state (and instead of cows wondering about aimlessly, here it is donkeys. I know. It’s brilliant).
I still haven’t worked out how the road system works. Or even if there is a system. The drivers here seem to have collectively imagined a third lane into being, which as far as I can see does not actually exist. It makes for really interesting journeys as cars dodge back and forth searching out the gaps. Every bus ride is like a hair-raising kamikaze game of cat and mouse. It took me almost half a day to work out that vehicles are supposed to drive on the right hand side. There at least seems to be some vague agreement about abiding to that rule – sort of. I don’t think there are any others.
Our second bus journey here, to Dhermi (pronounced “Thermi”) was hilarious. We spent the first hour taking the huge bus down a two-lane, but I think really supposed to be one-lane, “one-way” system out of a major town. Luckily we had two policemen riding on board with us so they were able to get out every now and again and order the traffic around to let us through. The people on the bus were fantastic and we had lots of sing-a-longs, with the policeman taking the lead. Several helpings of grilled goat’s brains and Italian Job finale bends later we finally made it to Dhermi.
Yes, I did say goats brains. GOATS BRAINS. I ATE GOATS BRAIN. I ATE GOATS BRAIN. ME. I ATE IT. And Will has the photos to prove it. Having not tucked into a horseburger in the end in Ljubjana, I thought I’d better up the ante a little. Earlier in the day we had met a guy who had told us about the national “delicacies”, and he had explained how he thought goat’s brain was really rather nice. And tasted a bit like condensed yoghurt. I really didn’t get that. Until I ate it. And it did taste like condensed yoghurt. Really disgusting gone-off condensed yoghurt. I also tucked into a bit of goat tongue (mmmmm… or rather, hmmmmm), and finished off with some goat’s face. Which was the nicest bit. But then I stopped. It was okay while it lasted. But you have to know when to stop. But Will and our two new Albanian best friends tucked into the rest of the poor goat’s face like it was a KFC Bargain Bucket.
Later we shared a proper dinner of a Milka bar and a Nestle canned iced Cappuccino.
The next day we went to grab some breakfast at a restaurant. When we asked for the menu the waiter man explained that there wasn’t one, but that he could serve us their usual breakfast fare. Cow’s head soup. We politely declined.
It is perhaps no surprise that I was violently ill the day after the goat’s brains, and have spent two days in bed. Thank goodness for Adam & Joe who totally got me through feeling like crap.
Albania is donkey heaven. They are everywhere. I am so happy.
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