6 October Koman – Fierzë - Hotel at Dardhe

Host Klodian prepares my breakfast and makes absolutely sure my bicycle and luggage is safely secured on board of this peculiar ferry. It is a basic metal boat with on top the welded frame of a bus, plus the diesel engine of the bus. The steering and gas-pedal have stayed like if it were a bus.

host Klodian

 










On board there are some tourists, but mostly local people and of course the mail and all kinds of luggage. I meet with a French family, the two Germans and an 87 and 85-year old English couple who are accompanied by an Albanian tour-guide. He ‘s taking care of them, their hotels, food and travel. What a spirit to undertake these kind of trips at this age!


http://youtu.be/esIxwtQYy94

Every now and then the ferry makes a quick landing to let some local people off and take on some children, who must be on their way to school. Today is Sunday and they will be away for the week from their parents. The mountains are pure grey rock at the top and from the shores up covered by woods. These are the remote parts of beautiful Albania. This is a trip I will not easily forget. This boat is local ‘public’ transport, for some people who live on a 2 hour mountainous walk from the shores of the lake, somewhere high up there. The range is around 2000 meters high and once they set off on their ascend you can’t see them anymore after 10 meters.

At the next damn, we arrive in Fierzë, where the two real big car ferries lay ashore as stranded whales, rusting away.They used to transport many Kosovo cars, but since recently the new highway opened, these ferries went out of business.

I begin my bike trip at 12.15 not knowing yet what I am up to. Google maps and my paper map are just not good enough. I decide to eat first and at one p.m., I eat the best trout ever, grilled in the skin, accompanied by some fried potatoes and a sour salad. A good decision, because only 15 kilometers further and 600 meters higher, there is the first local bar.

Refreshed, I go for what I think will be a two-hour climb and 30 kilometers. I plan to arrive at 3 p.m. What a mistake that proofs to be! These are the heaviest 30 kilometers I've ever biked. Ascends very regular of 10% and then cutting back into the mountain 90 degrees, with some descend to cross a small river from a valley and turning 90 degrees at the bridge and climbing again. And this not once, not twice but at least 10 times. After asking several times how far my hotel is still away, I receive different answers. I am feeling insecure and am loosing my strength.

Giving in is something I don’t easily do, but at half past three and feeling exhausted, I flag down a Mercedes minibus. The man tells me that it’s another 9 kilometers to my designated hotel. I give in and ask him to drive me there. It costs me, but I am proud I made this conscious decision. As a 55 year old the mountains have beaten me, but God the ride was fabulous and made an impression! I will never forget it, as I won’t the rest of the day.

The hotel has Internet, food and a room and the prize is reasonable. I realize that after four tough days, for my relatively un-trained status, my body is short of energy. Salads, potatoes and meat are not giving me enough carbohydrates. My gluten deficiency does not help, because I can’t eat their bread. So after thinking this over, I am asking them to prepare me just bowls of rice, with some goat cheese and honey. I decide to have this for breakfast as well and will insist on repeating this. One can only come to the full appreciation of riders in the Tour de France after this experience. The amount of energy they burn during a day is so large, that you just can’t eat enough to meet the begin level. So it’s no wonder some riders loose 5 or more kilograms of body weight during the three weeks the Tour lasts.

The locals all go to bed early and I do too.
A rough estimation of this day is that I biked 30 kilometers, ended at 900 meters, coming from 150 and with all the ascending and descending the number of meters climbed must be somewhere around 1800. After realizing this, I collapse and at nine p.m. I am sound asleep.

5 October Mjedë - Lac I Qyrsac – Koman

 

This is by far the most beautiful and straining 40 kilometers of my journey up till now.

back road to lake Koman 

A real back-road leads to a dead end in Koman, location of the dam and a power station. The English lady from yesterday has recommended it and after studying and asking around, I have decided to go to Mario’s place. He is situated after the dam and from there I hope to take a boat on Sunday. 

bridge over the Drini River west of Kotor Lake damn

I can’t write much about this trip, besides that the landscape is beautiful, with many butterflies, some small farms and a local bar. Just look at the pictures and the link to get an idea.

In Koman there is a lot of lost glory after the new highway to Kosovo opened and the ferries went out of business. I cross the Drini River that fills lake Vau i Deges as well as lake Koman. Another 200 meters up, through a tunnel I stand at the lake Koman and the pension of Mario. The sun is on the other shore and it’s cooling down. The two hosts, Klodian (16) and Zef (25) store my bicycle. The latter speaks most English. I am the only guest for the night. The bed is basic, but there are enough blankets, the shower is warm and the food is plenty.

After giving them a round they start to loosen up and make great efforts to communicate. We share our music; pictures and we make the appointment for breakfast.

At six the place starts to fill up with workers at the hydro-electricity plant. We speak with hands and feet. My Spanish is the most helpful, because many older Albanians speak some Italian. There are plenty relationships, through Italian investors, temporarily work abroad and inter marriage. We laugh a lot, especially about the special police, what seems to be turned into private protection for the hydro plant and used to be Hoxha’s eyes and ears around the plant. They started building the dam and the work was finished after the change of power. On one of the pictures you can still see the concrete defense tower from those times.

Mario’s place promises a little more than in reality, but it’s off-season and there are but a few tourists.

4 October Ulcinj (M) – Laç i Qyrsac (A) - Mjedë

 

I leave Ulcinj at around 10.30 a.m. and feel my legs from yesterday. Bad legs, no doubt about it! Too many kilometers yesterday, I am sure.

This town breathes the more Arabic atmosphere, loud Islamic prayer calls from some of the mosques and few women in the streets. Bars with coffee drinking men, cars honking’ and many smaller motorcycles and mopeds. Of course no one wears a helmet and at night quite often they don’t have lights. It’s mostly men on the streets and many young, hanging around, smoking, heaving a coffee, but without a stable job. I sometimes wonder that they are so friendly and curious, often trying to start a conversation. Why don’t they just mug me and steal everything I have? My third-hand bicycle is worth a monthly income of 350 euro’s! This the most southern point of Montenegro, but it already feels like the world I am about to enter even more in Albania.

Through a beautiful landscape of a protected delta, with many wine and pomegranate orchards, some cows, a lost mule and some goats, I am approaching Shkodra.

I can’t resist stopping at a food-stall. The guy who flags me down later appears to be an American. He is already 6 months on the road with a smaller type folding bike and a trailer as a suitcase that can hold his bicycle. I remember, in the hours and days I spend in preparing for my trip, reading his blog. I even considered also travelling with such a combination. But I am glad I did not. It’s not necessary if you don’t want to load your bike on a plane very often.

A woman with good English sells her fruits. The fruit is juicy and sweet. Time to get on the bicycle and move on. After I have passed the border, which is by bicycle a lot faster than by car or bus, I decide to stop and lunch at a small bar. The guys inside speak a little Italian, but a young girl is called and communicates easy in English. I eat an enormous fresh salad and some French fries. I also manage to buy the Albanian roadmap 1:200.000 that I saw earlier. Luckily I have enough Euros, because I haven’t been able to get a hold of the Albanian LEK. (1€ = ca. 140 LEK)

The lunch is 2 Euro and the can of juice 1! The western products also penetrate this country and will most probably destroy the locally produced lemonades etc. I remember this from my trip to the Baltic States in 1993. It seems unavoidable, through the infiltrating communication, then only by TV, but now also by Internet, it creates an image of a society that doesn’t exist in reality. However, it looks promising and everyone would like to be part of it.

fishing with big nets in the Drini at Shkodra

Up to now the roads have been good and the traffic calmer than in Montenegro and Croatia. The only thing lacking are town signs, so you need to ask where you are. But the Albanians are quite willing to explain with hand and feet if needed. They also do not trust maps and that comes from experience. The roads are just a little different than mapped, so you better listen to them!

At 5 p.m. I reach my destination and I stop at a restaurant, owned by a real businesswoman. 

It’s built with natural materials. After receiving info that the only place to sleep is the hotel 2 km back (Mjedë), I bike back. After some bargaining, I have a spacious room, with nice beds, WIFI and shower and check in. I am beat. It’s good I did not go further than 60 kilometer today.

I dine out at the earlier mentioned restaurant, speak with some locals, one being a very loud speaking Army Major. He also owns a gas station and goes to his second job for the night. I ask him about his beret. Why does he wear it when he is of duty? He laughs and wants to know my profession. When I joke that I am also military he asks: “secret police’? No SAS I tell him. Now he is really lost. We have some laughs and he buys me a wine. At nine they leave.

I bike back through a pitch-dark night with my flashlights on my head and on the bike. Don’t want to ride into one of the holes and crash my wheels. The Milky Way enfolds above me. The village is already asleep by 10 p.m. Life starts early here 5.30 at light break. I crash and dream.

3 October Kotor Bay – Budva – Bar – Ulcinj

After goodbyes at the hostel, I climb the first hill of today and come to the main coastal road again. I fear the traffic, but today there is much less and certainly a lot fewer trucks. I pass some places, like Sveti Stevan, a pure Russian enclave I have been told.

I stop for some bicyclist’ food, dried mixed fruits and peanuts in an old Monastery. It’s Orthodox and 30 priests live here. It is beautiful, dates back to early 1300 and breaths solemnity. Listen to a prayer (link) to get an idea. The sounds in the background are from workmen repairing some of the brickwork.

Then further to Bar, where I lunch big and receive some tips where to go in Albania. An English lady, enjoying her pizza next to my table, tells me she has stayed at Mario Mallo in Koman. She calls it: “a beautiful end of the world”.

I talk myself on the bike again and head for Vladimir and Shkoder (Albania). But I make a mistake and end up on the road to Ulzinj. After all not so bad, because it would have been very late when I would have arrived in Shkoder. So after informing at the Touristic Info in Ulcinj, totally disinterested, I end up in a far too expensive hotel, ran by the all deciding typical arse licking, fat and sweating hotel manager. Of course he wears the very appropriate outfit, a cheap but shining suit with a non-fitting tie. Maybe he was once sacked by John Cleese and decided to start his own hotel. I am too tired to look for something else.

Anyway the bed is good and the hot shower – from which the two doors drop out - helps for my sore legs.

1 October Mostar – Dubrovnik – Herceg Novi – Lepetane – Kotor

I get up at 6.15 a.m. to catch the bus to Dubrovnik and Herceg Novi. It takes with all the passport checks more than 5 hours. I ask the driver if he can stop at the ferry crossing. No problem.

We pass the delta and Dubrovnik once again.

Time to work on my blog and meet with some fellow bus travelers. I am sitting next to a young student from Bangalore. First he managed to be picked as one of the 500 from 200.000 applicants (0,25% chance) in a business management school that he has finished.  He has been chosen to do his business management PhD in a German university. He asks where I found the time for 4 months sabbatical and explains that in India the competition to get into university is so intense, that youngsters hardly find free time. To improve there chances they are constantly involved in extra assignments next to their normal school work. This ‘pumps up’ their curriculum, which is needed to get ahead in the rat race of university enrollment. And after graduation it doesn’t get any better if you want to work for certain well known and established (international) firms. Although you might have 6 days a week 8hr/day contract everyone works between 12 and 16 hours a day!

He is wondering Now that he has found two weeks to travel through Europe before his courses start he has been asking himself, if all those hours of professional input were really worth it? “What kind of life is that”?

Marcello and Angelo, two older Brazilians, so my age, are the next I start to talk to. They are so tranquil and do not easily get angry, even when the conductor/driver - who must have had a bad night - gets physical with one of their backpacks, because his opinion is that these belong on the floor, although the bus is but half full.

They are also going to Kotor and have a reservation in the ‘Old Town Hostel’. I decide to check that place out.

After crossing at the ferry as a non-paying foot passenger I get a meal (fish soup and a mackerel) at my former B&B. I pack up the bicycle and am a free man again. It feels great to any moment being able to decide where you want to go or stop. Was that not the same attraction with the private car?

Via a dreamy, quiet back road at the shadow side of the Bay of Kotor, I reach the old town of Kotor (Stari Grad). It’s beautiful, small, old, with streets not wide enough for cars. Transport is by foot, hauling by carrier tricycle, or Golf Cart with trailer. But most people just walk and the tons of tourists just ramble.

  

It’s the Montenegro procedure. Coaches come in around ten and leave at 15.00 hrs. Enough time for a one hour guided city-tour, a coffee, pictures an ice cream, a lunch and some touristic purchases. Some days of the week one or two cruise ships sail in. Small boats put the willing ashore. This makes that Kotor is almost deserted after 16.30. Waiters and shop owners, now bored try to catch the lost tourist.

The hostel is of high standard, not because you have a private room, but because of the two hosts that run the place. One is professor in the Italian language, the other a business marketer and place maker for foreign businesses that come to Montenegro. Both are in their thirties and want to work here for a while. The economic crisis is one of the reasons they took this job. They are helpful and full of tips for the backpackers from everywhere. They know almost everyone by name, but what really makes the place special is the atmosphere they create. One night the host prepared an enormous pan with Montenegrin mussels with bread. So when they are there, you should really check out this wonderful clean and nice hostel.

After dinner together with the Brazilians, I sleep well. Tomorrow is an easy day, to look around and do a lot of planning. I need to decide how and where I will go next. That depends on many things.