Potholes and pit-traps

Often when you cross from one country to another, it feels as if you've changed worlds entirely. This seems usually to come down to simple things; the fact that you are a lot of different architecture, or the people dress or appear significantly different. In the case of crossing into Albania from Montenegro, it was something more significant. We appeared to have driven into the set of Lord of the Rings - albeit with more rural nightclubs, one of which is feature not only in the foreground of the above shot, on a hill overlooking the river, but also in the very near foreground, as I took this from the carpark of a club-under-construction. I can't explain it, as we were in the middle of nowhere from all appearances; but as we were to find out, Albania isn't like other places...

The drive southwards through Albania revealed a few interesting aspects of this seldom-visited country. First was that they like their cars clean. Very clean. We couldn't have counted how many times we saw the word "Lavazh" on the side of a building, even if we had wanted to, with men waiting poised with pressure hose and sponge. I have no idea how these industrious scrubbers make a living, as there was one every hundred meters even on the open highway, and even more when we reached a town. Perhaps their strategy was to try to ensure the potholes on their particular stretch of road were even more craterous than their neighbour's; no mean feat, as driving in Albania was like trying to drive a moon buggy after a meteor shower.

Secondly, it became apparent that if you did manage to successfully negotiate the roads and desperate car washers at any kind of speed, you would soon be halted by the local rozzers. It would appear that in order to ensure the carwashing industry wasn't in any danger due to motorists going past too quickly, every policeman in the country was stationed by the road with a speed gun. The local drivers seemed to have a sixth sense (or a clever iPhone app) which told them when a speed trap was ahead. They would slow, and even stop weaving all over the road to attempt to overtake each other while avoiding a fiery crash into the magma at the bottom of one of the mid-road calderas, leaving the tourist, at the same speed as the traffic had been a moment ago, to be pulled over and issued a friendly wave. Yes, despite being signalled to pull over no less than 5 times due to minor speed transgressions, I wasn't given a ticket, but simply a friendly smile, and on occasion a "welcome to Albania!" before being sent on my way.

Due to the fac that we were aiming to be in Greece by the end of the day, our one stop in Albania (not counting Tirana, which doesn't count, despite our net movement over around an hour being zero due to the complete lack of signage) was Berat. A beautiful old town complete with original Ottoman architecture cascading down the hillside under a stunning medieval acropolis, it was definitely worth the stop, and the tour by a local guide (which, as seems often the case, appeared, enjoyably, to be speckled with as much fantasy as fact). It also gave us a chance to interact a little with the locals beyond traffic transgressions, which showed just how generous the people here are; on our way out of Berat, which was slightly confusing due to the recent changes in the road setup, we received possibly the most enthusiastically delivered (to the point of almost being competitive) directions I've ever been lucky enough to have. They did the trick, too, and we were soon on track to the southern border.