Here I stood at one of Europe's most photogenic street corners, a stunning medieval quarter that would be a major tourist draw in just about any country. Place this in Germany and it would rival any romantic old town along the Middle Rhine, or Italy to complement the magical Alberobello.
Except this is Albania, one of the most underrated European destinations for various negative reasons -- most of them unfounded as we have since learned. 10 out of 10 friends of ours expressed safety concerns -- and various degrees of envy -- upon hearing of our itinerary. But how safe is Albania?
Since I personally didn't know anyone who had visited Albania, we turned to Government of Canada's travel advisory page which provided the following warnings as of 2018:
Economic hardship and easy availability of firearms increase the risk of violent incidents ...
Demonstrations occur in many Albanian centres, often with little or no advance warning, and have the potential to suddenly turn violent ...
Avoid non-essential travel to the city of Lazarat, where Albanian state police and armed marijuana growers have in the past engaged in violent altercations ...
And Lazarat is a 10 minute drive from Gjirokaster, which put us at the outskirt of Albania's gangland. Fantastic.
So we played it safe and easy with our own private taxi to old Gjirokaster, 40 km from the ancient Roman ruins of Butrint as the bird flies though it felt twice as long on the narrow mountainous roads of the Southern Balkans. Our young driver Mario became the first Albanian we came to know, and his gentle manners and openness to discuss politics and local life gave us the most welcoming first impression of his homeland.
The second Albanian we came to know was Tina, mother of two and gracious owner of our rental apartment who, in limited English, offered most helpful advices such as negotiation tips with local taxi drivers. Our apartment for four, located less than 100m from the aforementioned street corner, cost a fraction of what we would pay in Montenegro and Croatia later on our trip.
Stepping outside Tina's apartment immediately landed us at the heart of Gjirokaster's open-air bazaar, curiously steep and slippery with its paving of patterned cobblestones polished over centuries by the feet and hoofs of Ottoman caravans.
Through its 1700-year-old history Gjirokaster has earned two nicknames: City of Thousand Steps for the steepness of its streets, and City of Stone for its whitewashed masonry walls and grey slate roofs, all designed for defense and fire resistance in case of war.
A magnificent example of a fortified tower house, Zecate House is a 200-year-old Ottoman residence with a breathtaking reception room of immaculate fresco walls, ornate wooden ceiling and a still-functional fireplace. This is not an official museum with fixed opening hours -- just knock on the neighbour's door and pay a nominal fee for entry, and perhaps buy a cheap drink of raki from him for taking care of this priceless heritage asset.
It should hardly be suprising that the grandest and most defendable residence is located near the old town's highest point, offering from its balcony a sweeping panorama of Gjirokaster's merchant quarters with its brooding, expansive castle perched upon the hilltop.
Proudly on display inside the castle's labyrinths are various anti-aircraft guns and tanks captured from the retreating Italian and Nazi German forces during WWII, as well as prison cells that housed political dissidents during the communist era.
The most famous Cold War relic was an U.S. Air Force T-33 that landed at Tirana amid technical difficulties, and placed here as a trophy by dictator Enver Hoxha, Gjirokaster's most (in)famous son.
At the far end of the castle stands the handsome clock tower built by a 19th century warlord, now overshadowed in importance by the newer open-air theatre tapped as venue for the National Folklore Festival, the foremost showcase for traditional Albanian performing arts held once every five years or so.
The castle walls afford a bird's eye view of Gjirokaster's old and new quarters, stretching down the narrow plains of the Drino hemmed in by barren rusty hills typical of Southern Albania. It is a land that has always bred -- by deep-rooted discontent or perhaps just destiny -- revolutionists from Enver Hoxha to the riotists that helped bring down the government in 1997.
Unmistakable from above is the five-pointed intersection of the old bazaar with its uniformly grey roofs that has become the town's trademark. Next to the intersection is the only mosque in Gjirokaster that survived Hoxha's Cultural and Ideological Revolution when Albania was declared the world's first atheist state, back in the late 60s.
Souvenir shops at the bazaar opened late on this balmy evening in early September, hoping to squeeze the last Lek out of the short tourist season at a UNESCO World Heritage Site that has remained anonymous to 99% of international travelers. Also scrambling for tourism Leke were the restaurants, mostly serving rustic Albanian dishes extremely affordable by Western European standards.
Restaurant Review: ODAJA (Gjirokaster) (Location Map)
We visited two restaurants in Gjirokaster, averaging less than CAD$9 per head for multiple courses to share including drinks. Needless to say prices were the cheapest we've seen anywhere in Europe, comparable to rural China even.
Gjirokaster's famed contribution to Albanian cuisine, Qifqi is a vegan dish of rice and finely chopped mint, deep fried in its own customized frying pan that somewhat resembles a French escargot dish. Between the Qifqi, the earlier dish of stuffed peppers, an Albanian version of a creamy chicken-and-rice soup and a green salad, spending 900 leke (CAD$10.6) was enough to make the two of us mostly full.
But the best dish was the cheese.
This should be no surprise as Gjirokaster county is widely acclaimed for Albania's best cheese, its secrets honed for centuries by the region's sizeable Greek minority. Our slice of smooth white cheese was battered, deep-fried and drenched in local honey for a delectable side designed as appetizer, but saved and treasured as our dessert.
Meal for Two Persons
| Village Salad | 200 Leke |
| Stuffed Peppers | 300 Leke |
| Rice Balls | 200 Leke |
| Chicken Soup | 200 Leke |
| Deep Fried Cheese with Honey | 200 Leke |
| Beer | 150 Leke |
| Water | Free |
| TOTAL | 1250 Leke (CAD$14.7) |
After the cheap lunch we decided to splurge on some seafood for dinner. This was small town Albania of course, where splurging meant spending CAD$10 per head.
Restaurant Review: KUJTIMI (Gjirokaster) (Location Map)
At last we came across the baby mussels that we spotted in the morning, farmed at the pristine salt lagoon of Lake Butrint. In traditional Albanian fashion these mussels were shelled, lightly battered, deep fried and served with a dash of lemon that was quite optional for shellfish this fresh.
With frog legs sadly out of season we ordered the next most exotic dish on the menu. Our deep-fried freshwater eels turned out reasonably fresh, but did come with a slight muddy flavor that benefited from a generous squeeze of lemon.
To be honest none of the dishes stood out, and the only memorable dish on this first day in Albania was the excellent fried cheese at Odaja. Little did we know that we would soon encounter two of our favorite restaurants of this 23-day trip over the next two days, as we moved into Central Albania.
Meal for Two Persons
| Fried Peppers | 200 Leke |
| Vegetable Soup | 200 Leke |
| Deep Fried Mussels | 400 Leke |
| Deep Fried Eels | 650 Leke |
| White Wine 0.5 L | 250 Leke |
| TOTAL | 1700 Leke (CAD$20.0) |
The next morning we took Tina's advice and found a cheap taxi to Gjirokaster's makeshift bus station, really a gas station on the main thoroughfare. Here we boarded Albania's infamous mode of long distance transport, the legendary furgon, towards our next destination of Berat.
IF YOU GO
Gjirokaster is 4 hours from Tirana by bus, currently departing from the South Bus Station (see map) near the Eagle Roundabout. For those traveling north from Saranda, cheap furgons departing from Parku Miqesia take about 1.5 hours ... but the last one leaves around 13:00. If you're pressed for time like us and need a private taxi from Saranda, leave me a message below with your email address and I'll send you Mario's contacts.
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