Camping Kalami, Greece – 19-22/04/11

Kalami beach.

Kalami beach.

After three intense days in Albania, parking and sleeping on city streets, showering in the van and staying awake all night in Berat listening to rowdy teenagers who were shouting and hitting a garbage bin, we decided we needed a break.

I really wanted to stay in a quiet campsite for at least two nights to get my mental energy back and to think about everything we’d experienced so far on this trip.

And all of my wishes came true in the Kalami Beach campsite. It had warm showers with reasonable water pressure (no more smelly bodies!), washing machines (no more smelly clothes!), Internet connection (that didn’t work but there was a promise of that getting fixed), beautiful shade and a little private beach. Also, almost no people at the start. Everything I was hoping for and more.

We didn’t do much in those three days – I did some professional sunbathing to achieve a beautiful lobster shade of red and Jay cycled into the closest town to get a SIM card we could use for the internet. We both spent our days reading, cycling and playing cards. Jay even enthusiastically got into the freezing cold sea (I can’t call that swimming because he was just standing there for 75 seconds). Even though there was no-one else younger than 55 in the camp, we met more than a few interesting characters:

  • Christian, Belgian (mid-fifties, biker, single, loves travelling, lives in Germany)
  • German couple (mid-sixties, travelling by camper for the last 30 years, love their life, friends and cats)
  • German woman (mid-seventies, who has been living in the same campsite for 7 months a year for the last 21 years, has a grumpy husband, broke her fake teeth falling out from the caravan and landing onto the table)
  • German woman (mid-sixties, who repeated a completely uninteresting story about lots of lorries trying to get onto a ferry to Corfu, doesn’t know a lot about Greece because her husband organises their trips)
  • Henry, English (in his sixties, seemed interesting but only Jay spent an evening hanging out with him and Christian while I was enjoying being on my own so I don’t know much about him)
Our camping spot

Our camping spot

They were all obviously people we would never meet outside the context of a campsite in Greece in pre-season and that would have been a shame because talking to them was eye-opening.

OK, this is where this post turns into a personal confession and has nothing to do with the description of the campsite anymore: I have to admit, I am sometimes scared to sleep in the van. I sometimes suffer from irrational fears of different dangerous things happening to us, all of which end up with us being dead or crippled: people killing us with knives or/and guns, bears breaking into our van, teenagers tipping our van into the river, ocean waves covering the van and many variations. It is just too easy to feel vulnerable sleeping in a metal box, listening to strange sounds around you.

Last night (in Agrinion, Greece) I was not afraid anymore. The fact that I felt more relaxed had a lot to do with the facts I learnt from our camp-buddies:

  1. We did not invent sleeping in the van and we are not special for doing it. It is not uncommon, people have been doing it for years and in all kinds of weird places and 99,9% of them didn’t end up getting killed (that’s a fact; I googled “campervan murders” and there’s only two cases, one of which an accident).
  2. Meeting locals on the way, smiling at strangers and asking them lots of questions about the country is the best way to feel comfortable and welcome wherever you are. I have to be nice to people to allow them to be nice back.
  3. I have to believe that people are essentially good and not fear and exclude everything I am not familiar with. I have to step out of my comfort zone sometimes to understand the world around me better.
  4. I have to be careful when coming out of the van so I don’t fall and break my teeth.
  5. I should not attempt to board a ship to Corfu if there are lots of lorries waiting to get on.
  6. Having a chemical toilet in the van becomes more important with age.
Iva and Jay on the beach

Iva and Jay on the beach

Packing to leave the campsite, things got more exciting again – we somehow manage to lock ourselves out of the van!

Luckily, one of the top side windows was open, so Jay climbed up onto our picnic table and used a metal stick to open the latches on the lower window, then fell off the table and moved out of the way so I could crawl in. All this took about half an hour and it helped me realise another important fact:

7. It is really difficult to break into our van. We have at least 30 minutes time to develop a survival strategy and get our weapons ready if we hear someone try.

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The Madness that is Albania – 17-19/04/11

It’s difficult to know where to start with Albania: a country totally unlike anywhere we’ve been before and in a lot of ways not at all what we had expected.

We spent four days and three nights (Tiranë, Berat, Himarë) in Albania and I’m writing this a couple of days later, having crossed into Greece and spent a couple of days doing nothing on a campsite.

Instead of tackling things chronologically, I’ve written down our impressions here in no particular order …

Our First Impressions of Albania

One Lamppost / One Million Cables

One Lamppost / One Million Cables

We entered Albania at a very small border crossing near Lake Skadar, and our original plan was to spend the first night in the town of Shkodër. The place was so awful in almost every respect that we had started to rethink our plans before reaching the city centre.

The road to Shkodër takes you across a one-track bridge, seemingly built of planks of wood and scrap metal. After the bridge, a large and vibrant Roma shanty town.

Iva Loves Camaria

Iva Loves Cameria, Especially Now She's Found Out What Cameria Is

After this a section of the outskirts which was like some sort of industrial ghost town; half-finished buildings, disused factories and (I may be exaggerating here) a petrol refinery.

Then the town itself, which seemed very alive, but absolutely and totally not somewhere even the most intrepid traveller would want to sleep in his car. Shkodër was the grimmest place we have ever seen, by some distance. Although Shkodër turned out to be far from typical, this was our first impression of Albania.

Mercedes Benz and Crazy Driving

Colourful Buildings in Tirana

Colourful Buildings in Tirana

Having travelled through Romania in 2010 we had gotten used to seeing locals driving with foreign plates on their cars as a way of avoiding road tax and insurance. In Albania it’s much the same story, with British, Italian, Swiss and German numberplates pretty much everywhere.

The striking difference in Albania: almost ALL of those cars are Mercedes Benz. On one leg of the journey we counted and more than 60% of the cars we saw were Mercs – and that includes vans, buses, … every type of vehicle on the road.

Gypsy Kings

Gypsy Kings

Apparently there’s an Albanian saying “A Mercedes may get sick, but it can never die”. A bit of online research (here and here) confirms that the majority are stolen in Western Europe as a response to the Albanian appetite for MB.

Fifteen minutes after entering the city limits of Tiranë and Iva, who was driving, was sweating and completely frantic. We’d seen bad drivers before, but in Albania EVERYBODY drives like a epileptic lunatic on crack.

A Great Place to Park, Relatively Speaking for Tirana

A Great Place to Park, Relatively Speaking for Tirana

Speed limits, traffic lights and road markings are almost universally ignored. At one major intersection in Tiranë, a policemen had been stationed to “direct traffic” for some reason, even though the traffic lights seemed to be working normally.

This gave drivers the chance to ignore his half-hearted waving and the traffic lights in equal measure.

Gypsy Kings, Part Dieux

Gypsy Kings, Part Dieux

After a while, oddly, it becomes quite liberating to ignore everything you’ve ever learned about driving and traffic safety and in fact by day two I shamelessly cut several people off in clear violation of the rules of the road.

It was great fun, and nobody seemed to take it personally.

What else?

Different Types of Bad Roads …

Mind the Gap (or else)

Mind the Gap (or else)

What is impressive about the roads across Albania is not so much their general state of disrepair, but rather the sheer variety of different types of bad roads that we witnessed (and survived):

  • Roads without any markings or lanes whatsoever
  • Planned roads without any surface to drive on. Just dust.
  • Roads with tremendously large holes in them
  • Bridges surfaced with wooden planks, cobbles and random pieces of sheet metal
  • Roads where one lane suddenly disappears without any reasonable explanation
  • Single-track roads without fences and very sizable drops onto unforgiving rocks

… and Trash Everywhere

Define "Road" for Me Again ...?

Define "Road" for Me Again ...?

In the centre of Berat, a town in the south of Albania which actually a few de facto “tourist attractions”, there is a smallish, comparatively pleasant town park. It has a fountain, well-kept grass and some flower beds. Young couples and families with kids come here to stroll, spend time, eat ice cream, and so on.

Iva watched as a man walked into the centre of the park with a plastic bag of trash. He chose a spot, opened the bag, emptied out the trash in a pile and then dropped the empty bag on top. And then left.

A Safety Barrier, Cleverly Built Only of Trash

A Safety Barrier, Cleverly Built Only of Trash

Every five or ten minutes along our journey we came across massive piles of rubbish, which must have accumulated over some time, in the weirdest places. Places where the previous owners of the trash must have gone to quite some effort to transport their rubbish their, and dump it.

In a country where everyday life involves significantly more struggle than we are accustomed to I can understand a lack of sensitivity toward “the evils of littering”, but this was just strange. It makes we wish I spoke Albanian so I could have asked.

But actually, and more importantly, many things about Albania left us with a really positive impression:

Tiranë – A Really Interesting City

Tirana, City Centre

Tirana, City Centre

As it often is with capital cities, in some ways Tiranë captures what the rest of the country is about and in other ways is something completely different and individual – an exception to the rule.

Tiranë turned out to be a pleasant and vibrant city to walk around, with a tremendous number of shops, interesting, upbeat bars and restaurants and a lot of noise and chaos.

I can imagine coming back with a bit more time to visit just Tiranë, although – valuing our lives – we would definitely fly this time and not drive 🙂

Beautiful Scenery …

Typically Impressive Albanian Scenery

Typically Impressive Albanian Scenery

The only real advantage of driving on the world’s worst roads is that you have plenty of time to enjoy the scenery. And scenery – amazing, epic scenery in great variety – is something that Albania has in spades.

Particularly the frequent views across to the immense, snow-capped Mount Tomor were unlike anything which we had seen before.

… and Very Friendly People

George W. Bush Street: Fittingly, a Bit of a Mess

George W. Bush Street: Fittingly, a Bit of a Mess

At one point we were flagged down by a police patrol. Given the complete absence of roadsigns we had no idea what to expect, but – with a cynicism which I later felt guilty for – I figured the policemen was going shake us down for a few Euros.

In fact, he’d really just stopped us for a chat. He asked us where we were from, where we had been in Albania and then went on to tell us about his own visit to London. Apparently he had eaten at Richard Branson’s restaurant there, which was very nice (but expensive).

Albania presented a very different and foreign environment for both of us, and at times is was pretty confusing, but I can honestly say that every single person we met in Albania, without exception, was friendly and generous and made us feel welcome in their country.

That was why I think that we will both definitely be returning, at some point.

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Murići on Lake Skadar, Montenegro – 16/04/11

Iva Doing Some Research

Iva Doing Some Research

After an evening out on the booze with our new couchsurfing friend Marija, we woke up feeling fairly hung over. As per our routine, I woke up first and insisted that Iva wake up and come out for a walk with me.

I am a firm believer in the philosophy of “walking off a hangover”. It’s on this basis that most of my knowledge of the streets and neighbourhoods of Munich was acquired.

Feeling rough as a trucker’s underchin, we set off in a random direction. Somewhere along the way we stopped off at a tiny bakery, which it turned out sold three things: burek, soft drinks and cigarettes. I bought a burek, stuffed with cheese and quite possibly soaked overnight in engine grease. Iva bought a bottle of “green apple drink”, which turned out to contain 1% fresh apple juice and 99% green.

Middle of Nowhere, Again

Middle of Nowhere, Again

After a long walk around Podgorica, a visit to the dirtiest toilet I have ever seen and a bracing cup of coffee we ended up back at the van, just about straight enough to drive.
Next stop, Lake Skadar.

Our plan was to drive along the south side of Skadar into Albania. Two thirds of the lake are in Montenegro, the rest across the border in Albania. There’s a fairly large Albanian town – Sköder – on the eastern bank of the water, while the Montenegrin part of it is rugged and not easily accessible.

We reached the western tip of the lake after about half an hour’s drive. Turning off the main road, we entered the “Skadar National Park” at the town of Virpazar, where we stopped for a very nice lunch. As with a lot of the places that we’ve passed through thus far, it had the feel of a town that must be heaving in July, but is still absolutely empty in April.

Heading Down to Murići

Heading Down to Murići

Beyond Virpazar the road was a one-track, partly tarmacked affair, which (we agreed unanimously, and that’s saying A LOT after a fortnight in Romania) was the single most hair-raising driving experience thus far with Camperissimo. On the left were uninterrupted sheer cliffs, and now and again a chunk of the road was just, well, missing.

Our Lonely Planet suggested a town called Murici, halfway along the south shore, with a small resort, beaches, an offshore monastery. It sounded perfect.

The road down to Murici was absolute hell in every respect, with donkeys, roosters, enormous gaps in the road surface, absolutely no signs and an occasional branch or two, but it was worth it: the beach was beautiful, deserted, and absolutely and completely silent.

View from the Camper on Murići Beach

View from the Camper on Murići Beach

We parked the van at the start of the beach and Iva walked along to the house at the other end, where there were also three small holiday bungalows. The owners were very friendly and told her to park wherever. The woman even offered to cook us dinner for a small cost.

While this was happening I was approached by an odd looking man walking along the beach from the other direction, who introduced himself as Hassan.

To cut a long (and surreal) story short, Hassan owned the central strip of the beach and suggested we move the van 10m and park there. Which we did, and promptly got stuck in the sand. During which time, Hassan’s friend arrived to watch. And then yet another man turned up, but this one with a spade and a useful look in his eyes.

Hassan's Friend, Man With Spade, Hassan, Jay

Hassan's Friend, Man With Spade, Hassan, Jay

Some digging, some pushing and a quarter of an hour later, and Camperissimo was free again.

We opted to park back where we had parked originally and Iva seized the moment and took a photo of me with our three new friends.

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Cetinje & Podgorica, Montenegro – 15/04/11

Our mission after waking up in Cetinje: find burek for breakfast. A very friendly and helpful woman in the local the shop told us that the best burek in town is definitely to be had at the bus station.

She explained in detail how to get there and even drew us a map so we wouldn’t get lost on the way. It turned out the bus station was precisely 3 minutes walk from her shop.

Protest on the main Cetinje square

Protest on the main Cetinje square

Walking around the town, we saw a group of high-school kids protesting loudly. It wasn’t very clear what they were protesting against because they were waving Jamaican flags, peace symbols as well as a big sign saying Počelo je (It has begun). Surprisingly, most of them seemed generally confused and embarrassed about being there.

Soon we found out they were in fact actors in a student film project.

The view from the hill above Cetinje

The view from the hill above Cetinje

There was also a fire truck parked on the square and as a part of the scene, it started spraying water close to the protesters. Close to the protesters, but unfortunately directly onto another group of passers-by, and the powerful water-jet actually knocked one woman off her feet. This mistake turned into an argument which was quickly resolved, following which the film crew moved on.

Once all of the excitement over (and a quick coffee with a Couchsurfer Vuk, who was part of the crew), we climbed to a monument on a nearby hill, overlooking the town. There were two other men there, both in their seventies, one of them jogging in small circles, the other one walking around in the opposite direction from his friend, wearing really dark sunglasses. I find old men with dark sunglasses freaky. The view from the hill was nice.

We visited a museum dedicated to Montenegrin poet and ruler Njegoš. The most interesting part of the museum was the guide who started off speaking extremely slowly so Jay could understand him, but forgetting himself and speeding up again  when it came to naming the different years of Montegrin rulers. The only thing I remember was that Njegoš was 2.08 metres tall.

Govori Crnogorski!

Govori Crnogorski!

Drive to Podgorica was very short and we caught a glimpse of the beautiful Skadar Lake. We parked in a nice, quiet neighbourhood. Later we found out it was a) directly in the centre and b) it was a poshest neighbourhood in the town, with the former president living there. Walking around the town later, we realised it really was beautiful in comparison to the rest of the town.

One of the most curious things we’ve seen in Montenegro are frequent posters in either Croatian, Serbian and Montenegrin, but all with the same message: “Speak Croatian / Serbian / Montenegrin!”. We later found out from the Couchsurfer Marija that they were encouraging people to declare themselves as Croats / Serbs / Montenegrins on the upcoming census, the first national census since independence, which is considered a very political thing in this new country.

After a few more beers and međuškas, our conversation turned from politics to topics of less interest. At one point Jay stood up and randomly danced on his own a little bit in the bar.

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Entering Montenegro – 14/04/11

Lentils Served with Lashings of Sunburn

Lentils Served with Lashings of Sunburn

As we waited at the border station to cross into Montenegro yesterday, a young man wearing a tracksuit bounded out from behind the passport control booth and over to our van.

“Every car driving in Montenegro needs to buy a yearly eco-sticker” he told us, “that’ll be €10 please!”.

David and Oihana, the camper van friends we met in 2010, had warned us about the border travelling south into Albania, but entering Montenegro we hadn’t been expecting anything dodgy. The sticker he offered to us looked reassuringly official, much like a vignette, and so we were fairly sure we hadn’t been conned.

The five metre drive from there to the passport booth passed without incident.

Thereafter, the unhappy-looking man at the booth pleasantly informed us that he wanted to see ALL of our documents. He might as well just asked us “which documents don’t you have?”, that would have made things more straightforward. What we didn’t have, as it turned out, was a nondescript green slip which is issued with every car insurance policy. No matter that you can’t register a car at all in Germany without insurance.

Ferrying Across the Bay of Kotor

Ferrying Across the Bay of Kotor

Fortunately the border guard was able to direct us to an insurance office (conveniently situated just metres away in a converted shipping container) where two nice gentlemen (also wearing tracksuits) would be happy to issue us a piece of green paper for the very reasonable price of €15, thankyouverymuch.

You have to respect how comfortable the Montenegrins obviously feel with the EURO, their adopted currency, despite the fact that Montenegro is not yet a member of the EU. Although they don’t/can’t print their own Euros, this has been the official currency here since 2002, which it replaced the Deutschmark.

The drive from the border to the bay of Kotor was accompanied by torrential rain, which helped us confirm beyond any doubt that the our new windscreen works. From the north of the bay we drove onto a chain-drawn car ferry, which was a fantastic experience, and shortened the journey to our destination, Cetinje, by at least an hour.

Rain!

Rain!

From there we continued along the coast to the town of Budva – the south side of which is a monstrous mass-tourism-work-in-progress – and turned up into the mountains and away from the Adriatic.

In Baška Voda the wind had blown so hard that we had to re-park the van at a less provocative angle. In Dubrovnik, as the sun had beat down, I had pranced around gaily in shorts, t-shirt and sandals and amounted quick an impressive sunburn. En route to Kotor we had experienced thick driving rain, and now it was … snowing. Heavily!

Snow!

Snow!

Travelling in spring you might throw in a couple of light jackets, a pair of hiking socks and even a flat cap, but neither of us were prepared for this. At any rate: praise the lord that the van has heating because last night it was flipping freezing.

Last night, again, we were asleep by 22:00, but in the mean time we did managed to learn the following useful facts about Montenegro:

  • As far as we can ascertain, it is illegal to drive here without talking on a mobile phone. Smoking a cigarette with the other hand is recommended, but not obligatory
  • Large queues may form in the T-Mobile store should large groups of gypsies decide to charge their phones with 3€ simultaneously
  • Most importantly: almost all Montenegrins that we have met have been extremely friendly, helpful and smiled a lot!
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