Over the river and through the woods

When you look at Albania on a map, you're likely to have one of the following three thoughts:

"Hey, that's right on the Mediterranean."

"Wow, it's really close to Greece and Italy."

and

"That's a really small country, isn't it?"

You'd be correct on all three. Today, however, we are talking about transportation, so I want to take a moment to dwell on the last thought. Albania isn't just small. Albania is "smaller than Maryland" small. Whereas Maryland has all sorts of bumps, tails, pan-handles, door-handles, and bow ties to spread it out into a long, odd shape, Albania is basically a tidy little rectangle. 200 miles long, 60 miles wide. When I realized that, my first thought was that a person must be able to get from wherever they were to wherever they wanted to be in the country before it was even time to eat lunch.

Oh, was I ever wrong about that one. For example, there is a beautiful coastal town in southern Albania by the name of Saranda. If you draw a straight line from Pogradec to Saranda, you will find that they are all of about 80 miles apart. And yet if I ever want to go to Saranda, I will need to plan for a road trip that lasts about 8 hours. Probably more. How, a person might ask, does that happen?

To be fair, you must begin by acknowledging that Albania has a terrain that would be a civil engineer's nightmare (or dream, I suppose, if they're a masochist). There are two types of places in Albania: those that are in the mountains and those that are next to the mountains. Flat land is a luxury that is found in very limited quantities here. The mountains aren't all huge, but they are rugged and they are everywhere.

That said, there is a more important factor to consider when trying to understand the transportation difficulties here: before 1991, private citizens were not allowed to own or drive cars. For almost half of the 20^th century (namely, the half when the automobile burst onto the scene), Albania was ruled by a communist dictator named Enver Hoxha (ho-ja) who did not fancy his people driving around in the non-communal bliss of a private automobile. I have heard it said that when the communist government fell in 1991, there were fewer than 60 cars in the entire country. I can't vouch for the exact numbers, but what I do know is that building a highway system was not very high on the priority list of Hoxha's government.

I would not be a very honest man if I didn't say that part of me wants to go back in time and give Hoxha a big high-five on that one. I think that much of the western world is far too dependent on cars and that it leads to many unfortunate consequences. That said, you can't just eliminate cars and stop there. There must be a second part of that transportation plan that sounds something like this:

"We won't have cars, so instead, our transportation system will rely on an efficient network of buses/trains/subways/bicycles/large carrier pigeons."

Unfortunately, when Albania put together their transportation plan, I think the conversation sounded something more like this:

Advisor 1: Yes, so like I was saying, we won't have any cars.

Hoxha: Great idea!

Advisor 1: Thank you!

Hoxha: By the way, that is unquestionably the largest bird I've ever seen. Why is it here?

Advisor 1: Glad that you asked! You see, instead of having cars, our transportation system will rely on an efficient network of...

**Advisor 2 bursts through the doors, the faint smell of raki surrounding him**

Advisor 2: HOXHA! The Americans are going to invade!

Hoxha: What?! What can we do?

Advisor 2: How about building 700,000 concrete bunkers?

Hoxha: Isn't that a almost a bunker per person?

Advisor 2: Yes it is!

Hoxha: That will take years! And all of our money!

Advisor 2: Yes! Every last cent!

Hoxha: I... like your thinking! I like your spirit! We need to start this now!

**exit Hoxha and Advisor 2**

Advisor 1: ... and... carrier... pigeons.

A train system is in place in the country, but it is probably one of the only train networks in the world (certainly the only one in Europe) against whom Amtrak can comfortably claim superiority. One of the official tourism guides for Pogradec describes it in the following way:

"The District of Pogradec has access to the railway network. This fact is known by few people. [...]The ride, however, is not comfortable. Trains are very old and it takes seven hours to go from Tirana to Pogradec[...] Only the people that are interested in industrial archeology should venture taking the train to Pogradec. [...] On the train you can enjoy looking at both the scenery and the variety of people that board and get off the strange train."

What they fail to mention about the strange train, however, is the fact that a) tickets are dirt cheap b) you can bring your own alcohol on board and c) many of the cabooses apparently don't keep the back door locked , thus allowing you to sit on the back deck during your journey. Drinking beer with friends on the back of a train while winding through the mountains? Yes, please. It hasn't happened yet, but I have every intention of making sure that it does someday.

Unfortunately, there are times when life requires you to travel with speed and sobriety. Or, should I say, relative speed and functional sobriety. In that case, you must turn back to the roads and the highway system that they have effectively put together from scratch during the last 20 years. I wasn't around for the early days of the American automobile highway system, but it makes sense to think that things grew together naturally. In the beginning, there were very few rules of the road and nobody really knew how to drive, but they also had wooden wheels and cars that topped out at 30mph. The cars became bigger and faster, but the roads also became larger and more organized and the drivers became more experienced.

In Albania, on the other hand, you have small roads, few traffic laws, relatively inexperienced drivers, and really fast cars. It is not always a winning combination. You could not pay me enough money to drive in this country (although plenty of people do and, oddly, I see fewer accidents here than I ever did in the states). Thankfully, there are many people that are glad to let you pay them to drive you around. The carless traveler has several options: hitchhiking, taxis, furgons, and buses.

Hitchhiking is still relatively common in Albania and can be a great way to travel. It's free, you get to meet people, it's faster than furgons and buses, and, when the furgons just aren't running any more, it might be the only way that you can get where you need to go. I don't use this option often or when I'm alone (mother), but it is a possibility.

Taxis? They are expensive. There are much better things to spend money on Albania. Next, please.

Buses! Buses run between most of the major cities in Albania. They will vary in quality from "industrial archeology" to "hey, this thing has air conditioning!" They are usually slightly cheaper than furgons, but they are also slower and make frequent stops. One very nice thing about buses, however, is that most of them operate on a set schedule. You might need to do some investigating to figure out what that schedule is (Albanians don't really like to post information like that in public places), but once you do, you know exactly when you can hop a ride out of town. That might not seem like such a big luxury when you are in America and have that power at all times, but it is a big deal when your alternative is this:

You might be asking what it is that you are supposed to be looking at in that picture. Is it the slick VW detailing on the headrests? Is it the fall-collection zebra-print seat covers? Is it the group of guys standing outside, wondering why some kid is taking a picture of the inside of an empty van? Well, yes to all, but the photograph was originally intended to show the dark side of furgons: the empty furgon. Furgons are great because they'll take you anywhere, but they aren't taking you even so far as the next block until they have enough passengers to make it worth their while. If you're lucky, you find a furgon that is almost full and will leave mere minutes after you arrive. If you're not lucky, you get to sit in an empty furgon for as long as it takes until they can round up enough people that are headed your way. My personal longest wait was about an hour and a half, but I've heard of worse. Needless to say, you need to plan some extra time into your trip if a furgon is your travel method of choice.

Once you are on the road, you'll usually get at least one opportunity to stop and contemplate things like life, the good times that you had, and some of those things that you wish you had done before you died in a fiery blaze somewhere in the mountains of Albania.  

(Editors note: that last sentence may come across as extremely inappropriate right now due to the fact that a terrible bus crash that killed 14 people did happen a couple days ago in the mountains of northern Albania.  I wrote this before I knew about the accident and in no way was referencing that event.  Maybe I should take the sentence out all together, but I'm leaving it in because the subject of terrifying road trips is a frequent topic of conversation among volunteers.  Hope you don't mind.) 

That by the way, is not a back road. That is the main highway between Tirana (capital and largest city) and Elbasan (3rd largest city). Roads like that are not all that uncommon. That is an especially windy part of the road, but straight, flat stretches of highway are rare beasts in this country. Furthermore, what may look like a winding two lane road to you and me is actually a three laner with a passing lane that fits snugly into those seven feet between you and the cars approaching from the opposite direction. Your enjoyment of furgon rides increases immensely once you realize that this lane is there and that your driver isn't just passing on blind corners for the adrenaline rush. That's what I like to tell myself, at least. I could go on trying to explain what it is like to ride in cars on those roads, but really it is just something you need to experience for yourself to properly understand.

There are a few other fun details of life on the road in Albania. One is the Pilaf Stop. If your furgon or bus is traveling any longer than about two hours, chances are good that they'll make at least one stop along the way to let the passengers get out, stretch their legs, drink some coffee and eat some food. Like, for instance, pilaf (a common rice dish in Albania).

That, by the way, is a picture of my furgon camped out during a pilaf stop. I haven't reached the point of randomly posting gas station pictures. Yet. Another fun feature is the natural spring. Some areas of Albania (such as the mountains between Elbasan and Pogradec) have an abundance of natural springs. If a road happens to pass close to one, they don't let it go to waste. At very least, they'll stick a pipe into it and put some tasteful stonework around it. If the spring becomes popular, an enterprising businessman will often set up shop next to it, giving you a full choice of chips and cookies to complement your spring water needs. If the spring becomes extremely popular, entire stores will be built up around them. Anyway, if your driver randomly pulls the car over in the middle of nowhere and runs out of the car with a water bottle, don't be alarmed. He's just thirsty. (A terrible picture of one of the natural springs/snack bars follows)

I feel like I could go on for three more pages about traveling in this country, but I think that I've subjected you all to enough for one go. Next time... maybe businesses. We shall see.