Around the World with Hardy(T)Around the World with Hardy(T)
From our camp high above
Permet, it looks quite a nice place. However, as we walk down the valley
and eventually through the town, we see for the first time the contrast
beween rural and urban Albania. We walk from fields into an industrial wasteland
of abandoned factories, ruined buildings and litter strewn streets. The
few shops we see are half empty and most business seems to be done at the
street kiosks trading in essentials rather than luxuries. There seems to
be an air of resentment as we reach the main square, something that was
completely absent in the villages. The slight disappointment is soon overcome
by a couple of cold beers in the former communist hotel - at only 40 lekës
a glass too! The hotel affords an excellent and out-of-the-way view of the
bustling main square. We watch the money-changers at work, the townsfolk
queueing for the library and the police keeping a watchful eye on proceedings.
The square is dominated by a magnificent statue of a proud Albanian partisan
bearing arms. Apparently the communist star previously adorning this statue
mysteriously went missing shortly after Hoxha's demise. Funny that.
I should mention here that Albania under Hoxha took paranoia to new heights. He feared insurgency from his own people and invasion from his neighbours. To this end, he built a network of concrete bunkers at every strategic point imaginable: on every hill, on every beach, overlooking every town and along every main road. We got our first chance to inspect one of these (now abandoned) bunkers as we were just leaving Permet - however, the opportunity was deferred as we saw an old man running from an adjacent bunker with a disturbed look on his face and his trousers round his ankles.
"Ku është stadiumi futboll?" is a phrase you will undoubtedly need to use should you ever visit Albania. Find out what it means in Hardy(T)'s World Soccer Diary.
Saturday night is spent camping
high above the Vjose valley just outside a village called Losa. It's a pretty
sleepness night - despite the raki nightcaps - since the whole valley is
filled with the sound of howling wild dogs from dusk til dawn. And if that's
not bad enough we're treated to a dawn chorus of braying donkeys. Ideal
preparation, then, for the long slog up to the peak of Dhimbelit (2040m).
Today we're guided by Gheorghi, a tough, mountain-hardened man of good farming
stock - and his eight-year-old son, Gheni, who puts us all to shame by not
only climbing Dhimbelit, but by doing it in a pair of blue plastic sandals.
The climb is pretty hard - firstly over reasonably gentle pasture, but eventually
an exposed scree climb in a very cold wind - but the views from the top
make it all worth while.
Monday is a rest day, so we
head back down into Permet. Firstly we take a look at the local Greek Orthodox
church, dating back to 1617 and containing some magnificent icons, the original
wooden pews and a beautiful ceiling fresco. The osary full of old bones
is also really interesting. Back in Permet we decide to try and catch a
bus to the local thermal springs. We try without success for some time until
we realise that this is Albania - "avash, avash" and all that
- so we decide to try and commandeer a bus instead. The school bus driver
offers to abandon his kids and take us for 500 lekës, but we decide
that this would be a bit tight on the kids. 
We
eventually find another bus driver with nowhere in particular to go, who
agrees to take us to the springs - he knows exactly where they are
and has been there 'many times' before. That would be why he gets us completely
lost and nearly wrecks his bus taking it down roads that are hardly suitable
for donkeys, let alone buses. Fair play to the man though, he got us to
within about 400m of the springs and we walk the rest of the way. Despite
the overbearing smell of sulphur, the springs are an absolute godsend to
us weary trekkers. Our visit is also quite a bonus to the soldiers at the
army base on the cliff-top high above the springs - especially as the girls
in our party decide to strip off, unaware of the soldiers' presence! Back
in Permet, we are invited to partake in an England vs Albania volleyball
match in a local farmyard. We put up a creditable performance, despite the
disadvantage of having a rubbish tip on our side of the court! Diplomacy
dictates that we don't complain.