t is spring here and everyday seems to have a bit
more sun than the last. Vlore is on the Adriatic Sea, just across from Italy.
The orphanage is just up the hill from the beach so we have some good sea views
now and again. This town of 90,000 could be a beautiful place, but the people of
Albania don’t have the money or the ability to make it something special.
ur original plan was to travel through India and Pakistan, hitting Mediterranean
Europe on the way home. As we sorted out plane flights, it just seemed to
get more difficult and expensive to book flights back from Europe mid-summer.
So on a whim, we checked
into flights to Istanbul thinking we would work our way backwards towards
India from there. Flights were cheap and in a few days we were on our way.
t the start of our trip, one of Dave’s Navy buddies had told us about some friends of
his who run an orphanage in Albania. We hoped to volunteer our time at the
orphanage near the end of our year-long adventure. With all the Kosovo news,
we called
them when we arrived in Istanbul just to check on the status of things in their neck
of the woods. They were quick to accept our offer of help, telling us they had
been calling the US for days asking for volunteers. The refugee crisis has given
them a lot of extra work.
ithin a few days we were on our way through Greece towards Albania.
We crossed over into Albania at a border post called Kakavia. The area around this
border village is mountainous on both sides. With the sea relatively close by, it
really is beautiful geographically. At the border, the usual hawkers were
looking for passengers with American dollars to spend. We fended them all
off and then Dave negotiated a cheap ride with a shared taxi to Vlore.
Once in Albania, the roads deteriorated quickly and we endured four painfully bumpy
hours at breakneck speed.
s we bounced along, we noticed some very unusual scenery.
The towns were all built on the hillsides and the flatland was farmed.
In the midst of all these farm fields were hundreds of bunkers.
At first, we thought they were unusual haystacks or some strange farming technique,
but no, they were all bunkers. This is when we knew we needed a little more
historical background on Albania. Mark and Lola Nyberg, our orphanage hosts, clued
us in and so here’s a brief history for you.
t is spring here and everyday seems to have a bit
more sun than the last. Vlore is on the Adriatic Sea, just across from Italy.
The orphanage is just up the hill from the beach so we have some good sea views
now and again. This town of 90,000 could be a beautiful place, but the people of
Albania don’t have the money or the ability to make it something special.
ur original plan was to travel through India and Pakistan, hitting Mediterranean
Europe on the way home. As we sorted out plane flights, it just seemed to
get more difficult and expensive to book flights back from Europe mid-summer.
So on a whim, we checked
into flights to Istanbul thinking we would work our way backwards towards
India from there. Flights were cheap and in a few days we were on our way.
t the start of our trip, one of Dave’s Navy buddies had told us about some friends of
his who run an orphanage in Albania. We hoped to volunteer our time at the
orphanage near the end of our year-long adventure. With all the Kosovo news,
we called
them when we arrived in Istanbul just to check on the status of things in their neck
of the woods. They were quick to accept our offer of help, telling us they had
been calling the US for days asking for volunteers. The refugee crisis has given
them a lot of extra work.
ithin a few days we were on our way through Greece towards Albania.
We crossed over into Albania at a border post called Kakavia. The area around this
border village is mountainous on both sides. With the sea relatively close by, it
really is beautiful geographically. At the border, the usual hawkers were
looking for passengers with American dollars to spend. We fended them all
off and then Dave negotiated a cheap ride with a shared taxi to Vlore.
Once in Albania, the roads deteriorated quickly and we endured four painfully bumpy
hours at breakneck speed.
