Time for another bus ride, this time to the beach resort towns of Ksamil and Sarandë. This area rivals the Greek islands. Crystal-clear water, mountains dropping toward the sea, and buildings stacked one above the other as if someone ran out of flat land.
We arrived early and set off to find the hotel we had booked. We followed the directions from Booking.com and the GPS coordinates. Nothing. No hotel. No sign. No clue.
So, naturally, we went to find breakfast on the water.
While we were eating, I messaged the owner and told them we had arrived but couldn’t find the place. They sent me a new set of coordinates. They didn’t make any sense. Then came another set of coordinates.
Now things were getting interesting.
I had booked a place on the water. The “new” location was up the hill by the bus station. We had just spent €25 getting here from there. And, unless I had suddenly developed a passion for hills and bus stations, I wanted to be on the water.
“Sorry, non-refundable.”
Fuck that.
After a somewhat heated conversation and a chat with Booking.com, our money was refunded. Why? Just why?
We found another place a little farther south, all by itself, right on the water, with its own pool—and for less money. Hotel Dodona turned out to be perfect. The people were incredibly nice and accommodating, and breakfast was included.
The beaches, however, were VERY busy. So we did what any sensible travelers would do. We stayed at our own little place, enjoyed the views, the water, and the sunsets, and tried to catch the elusive green flash as the sun disappeared into the sea.
After a couple of days, we caught the final bus north to the beach town of Durrës. It was only an hour from Tirana and the international airport, making it a convenient place to spend a few days before heading back to the UK.
We found another beautiful apartment on the beach. And, surprise of surprises, it was actually where the map said it was!
A fully equipped fifth-floor apartment with a balcony overlooking the beach and boardwalk. The beaches were packed with holidaymakers and, judging by the amount of exposed butt cheek, apparently the less clothing the better.
Rows of chairs and umbrellas stretched from the boardwalk all the way to the water’s edge. Vendors worked the beach like a mobile marketplace. Ice cream was a big seller, along with inflatable toys, beach towels, roasted corn, and various grilled meats.
Some of the vendors were carrying absolutely ridiculous loads. Others had small fires burning in wheelbarrows with grates on top, cooking as they pushed their little mobile restaurants up and down the beach.
The vendors’ loud calls announcing their wares blended with the happy squeals of kids playing in the water and sand. It was chaotic, crowded, noisy—and somehow wonderfully entertaining.
We rented a chair under an umbrella right at the water’s edge, grabbed a drink, settled in, and watched the world go by. The water was cool but incredibly refreshing on a hot day.
Later, we decided to visit a nearby brewery. We sat down near another couple and started chatting. Peter and Camilla were from Stockholm. We really hit it off and spent quite a bit of time talking.
Peter was into trying different beers, so naturally I introduced him to Untappd. Another innocent victim has been sucked into the world of beer ratings.
They invited us to come visit them in Stockholm sometime. The last time we were there, we didn’t spend nearly enough time because we were on our way to Nordkapp.
Maybe it’s time to go back.
After a pizza and a beer on the beach, we headed back to our apartment. Once the sun disappeared, the temperatures finally cooled off. We opened the doors, crawled into bed, and let the fresh, cool air roll through the apartment.
It smelled like the sea.
Not a bad way to end our time in Albania.
The next day, we headed back to the UK. It was time to get ready for the Armchair Adventure Festival in Plymouth.
But that’s a story for next time.
Cheers,
2WANDRRs
2WANDRRs 
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