Tales from Albania

People told us ‘you’re going to Albania?! You do know that’s where Taken is based on?’. Sorry to disappoint but our trip was way less dramatic!

We’d read on other blogs before going that Albanian people are really friendly and beyond helpful – as in will literally go hours and miles out of their way to help you out.

When we first arrived in Tirana, we didn’t really feel this. We were expecting to be bowled over by huge smiles at the mere fact of us being there, and stumbling through saying ‘Përshëndetje’ (hello in Albanian) to anyone on the street (turns out this isn’t the done thing). We were a bit deflated, wondering if the blogs we’d read had just been lucky.

We couldn’t have been more wrong.

Once we began to get more of a feel of the place, we learnt that if you want the Albanian welcome, you just need to ask (for help). I don’t mean stand around looking aimlessly lost waiting for it, but to directly walk up to a stranger in the street and ask (trust me) – and to say you then get help is an understatement!

Albanian’s may not be outwardly over the top in the street, smiling and replying hello, but there is a helpfulness that was distinct from anywhere else we’ve visited (this is more about the way it’s offered, as opposed to us having unhelpful experiences elsewhere).

In our accomodation in Himara, we asked the host what time the bus was to our next stop, Saranda the next day. He told us to meet him outside the hotel at 9:30am the next day. When we came down, he was already there, phone in hand calling the bus driver.

We figured out that although Albanian bus timetables are apparently notoriously unreliable that local people seemed to have the number of the driver to keep up to date about when it was passing through (aside from bus stations there aren’t designated bus stops).

It was running 15 mins late so he took us next door to a local produce shop and we were welcomed by the lovely lady who runs it. They insisted we have a snack (a sweet fig dish), and made us fresh pomegranete juice, and poured us fresh mountain tea. The tea was made from buds and leaves off a stem from a plant picked in the nearby mountains, and had a lemony flavour. The lady told us how long she had owned the shop, a bit about her family, and about her produce whilst we waited. She even gave us a free guide book of the local area. We bought some dried stalks (200 lek/ £1.50) so we could have mountain tea at home, the perfect souvenier and memoir of our unique start to the day.

We just cannot talk about welcomes and tales from Albania without mentioning Lili (from Homemade Lili – in Berat). Everyone needs the chance to meet someone like Lili – someone who oozes with life and makes you feel the same when you’re around them.

He runs a restaurant from his family home with his wife, serving delicious homemade traditional Albanian food. You have to book a table via whats app [+355 692 349 362] a week or so in advance, as there are only 5 tables per sitting (6pm and 8pm) and everyone is dying to get in to get a slice of his enegy (and food).

When we arrived, he remembers guests by name (from whats app) and makes a huge attempt to remember, and pronounce it correctly. Now, Joe booked it, and Joe’s name proves to be a tricky one when travelling. For months in South America he was José or ‘Hoey’, and the ‘J’ caused problems in Albania too, but not for Lili. After trying a few times, he nailed it and became the most excited when I told him I was ‘Sophie’ – he yelled and skipped ‘my Grandmother is Sophia’, and for the rest of the evening I was Sophia.

It’s hard to get across Lili on paper. He hopped and lept between tables, calling every person in there by name, asking if they needed anything else. He told us stories about himself and his family with huge passion. He explained we were sitting in a house that had been in his family for generations, and that we were drinking red wine his father makes (500k per 1/2 litre – roughly £3.50). He runs a small menu, and explains each dish and gives recommendations.

The food was the best we tasted in Albania (and we kept having to move this goalpost – we had a lot of good food). When we told him this, he couldn’t believe it, he giggled and said he must tell his wife and rejoyced ‘best food in Albania’ as he sped off to the kitchen. It was such a wholesome evening (one of my favorites ever, not just in Albania), spent with incredible food, spiritied host, and because of the intimate setting, new friends from the other tables. We all got chatting, and there were people from Ukraine, Germany, and Estonia. We all sang happy birthday to one of the Estonian ladies, and learnt to toast in each language.

After dinner, the Rakia came out (Albania’s national drink), and Lili joined us. We were having that good a time, we didn’t realise the next dinner sitting had arrived. As Lili let the tables in he insisted ‘Sophia and Joe you must not go!’ and led us and our Ukrainian friends out to the street. He lives up a gorgeous cobbled windy street, and there was some space to sit down at his door. He settled us in there, and continued to bring us (free!) Rakia each time he passed to take more food to his new guests, occasionally joining us as he went. It’s a night we’ll never forget and his love of life is just infectious.