Down with the Albanian Mafia.. Part I.

In this episode of blokesworld, we follow C-train & B-skin as they endeavour to bring their own unique sense of humour to europes final frontier. Albania. And what a fascinating journey it was. We pick up the boys trail in Bari, one of Italys' larger Adriatic ports.

After an unsuccessful attempt to stow away on the wrong boat, our boys finally convinced the authorities to grant them passage. Their seldom practised Italian holding them in good stead.

After a lengthy delay, and a painful crossing, they caught their first glimpse of Shqiperia. Otherwise known as the Republic of Albania.

Upon arrival, our boys dutifully lined up at passport control. At the counter they were greeted by a stern looking man with an AK-47 who, when viewing their passports, yelled to the throng, Australia, Australia man. An uneasy minute followed, after which our boys were charged the princely sum of 1 euro to enter. A little dubious, they headed out of the terminal, not daring to look back. Outside the port was a gypsy camp. Being the only westerners, our boys were mobbed by grimy kids with light fingers, child bearing mothers with pitiful faces and stale gents in dire need of a shower. Quick thinking C-train tossed a handful of bubble gum in the air, and the boys escaped in the insuing clamour. A little shaken from their introduction, they sat down to get aquainted with their very close friend. Beer.

Hitching a ride north with an estate agent, on the false pretense that they were property magnates, the boys marvelled at their first sunset. They'd made it. After viewing the dodgy building practises of a country straining to modernise it's coastal towns, they headed to the big smoke. Tirane. A dusty, chaotic, throbbing capital. Home to 800,000.

Once settled in their out of the way 1/2 star hotel, they set about wandering the busy streets. In a country too poor to afford pesticides, they were pleasantly surprised at the outstanding quality of produce on sale. Sure, there may be hygiene issues, but when has that ever bothered a blokesworld reporter. We found the boys haggling over the price of meat. All varieties of which are sold at the same price.

The largely mediterranean climate, offers up plenty of citrus fruit and ofcourse olives. Fish is a popular choice for the more well off. The boys stomachs grumbled at the sight of kicking prawns and squid which followed them with their beedy eyes. Had they stumbled, inadvertently, into paradise???

Perhaps they had. This country is filled with friendly, hospitable types. None more so than the mother of them all.... Mother Theresa. Without doubt Albania's most famous figure. This modest statue is situated outside the university, as if to bless all the children that pass through it's doors.

Albania's history dates back to the stone age. Since then, it has been chequered at best. The greeks, romans, byzantines, venetians and ottomans all had a chop, leaving their cultural mark as well as their ruins. The modern state was born in 1920, when King Zog I took control. Then in 1939 italy invaded, and by 1944 commie partisans had taken over, aligning Albania with USSR. In 1960 they severed relations, and saddled up with china until the late 1970's. Travel documents became available in 1990, and an exodus followed. In 1997 public protests over a failed pyramid scheme led to anarchy and rebellion. And the country is only now starting to recover. Corruption is rife, but the current government is committed. With a little luck, and alot of hard yakka, the country might gain entry into the e.u. in the coming years.

History also plays it's part on the football pitch. On a chilly night, we found the boys huddled up in the bleachers at the local Tirane derby. Crowds are segregated here. Wisely, the lads choose the side of Partizani, the traditional army team whose colours are blood red and gold. This night they played bitter rival Tirane FC... whose colour is blue... so it was a no brainer really. After 90 tense minutes, the score remained 0-0, so the boys set about tracking down their dear friend once more.













Here we catch a glimpse of the toilets in the national stadium. And, fueled by liquid amber and jager, C-train displays his breaking prowess on mussolini's boulevarde. Brave man indeed.










The following day saw our lads searching the flea market for bargains, of which there were plenty. B-skin haggled over the price of a second hand toilet seat, but couldn't bear to part with his hard earned cash. Meanwhile, C-train eyes up a free range rotisserator chook, which he had to battle hard to win.










Undeterred by the horror stories of road travel in this neck of the woods, the lads set off in a hire car.... destination.... the Albanian Riviera. As darkness fell, they decide to park up along the coast, some 6 hours after leaving Tirane. On a cold, and rather uncomfortable night, they find warmth and friendship in a very cheap bottle of Merlot.... or was that 6 bottles.

And upon waking, our fearless duo are gobsmacked by the vista... all the gypsies and their howling dogs couldn't spoil this occasion.

As our boys had found out earlier, electricity is something of a luxury in these parts. And heres why.

Here we find C-train contemplating a bath in the swamp. It may look appealing, but reports say that the smell was something else all together.

After a double espresso, the lads set off on the approach to the riviera. Winding narrow roads take them through alpine like forests, and past hunting restaurants offering all sorts of wild meats. Climbing over the jagged range they are greeted with the sight of the not yet infamous Albanian Riviera. Although Julius Ceasar landed his legions on a beach just out of the frame to the right.

Blokes cannot live on beer alone. Upon arrival in Himara, our boys took their shirts off, then quickly put them back on again, and sat down to a feast of char grilled squid. By all reports, the finest they had ever tasted, which is saying something. After blowing the 5 quid daily budget, the evening meal was a little less extravagant. Amid the pouring rain, our intrepid travellers bbq'd snags on the beach.

The beauty of this place can scarcely be argued. This is the spot where our boys bbq'd... moments before the storm rolled in. This narrator believes that ten years from now, the picture you see will be radically different. The tourist invasion is inevitable. Culture, history, and it's proximity to the west will conspire to destroy this little pocket of paradise.

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One of the enduring legacies of the cold war, bunkers litter the coastline. Infact the whole country is covered with these intimidating, but highly effective defensive outposts.

This is the view from inside a bunker at Qeparo... in the distance, you can see Corfu, Greece. No wonder the locals were so paranoid.

Wandering through the magnificant olive and citrus groves that cram the coastal flats, we found the boys reminiscing of times gone by... and FEAR. They both agreed that this would make a splendid site for a 2012 soiree. Get your calenders out.

Amongst the crumbling remains of ancient Himara, we find the 4WD of choice. An adriatic taxi, munching on some grass.

Hidden within the old stone town was this little church. Without a tourist information, no gate, not even a door. The lads entered into a world long since gone. I mean, we are talking seriously old here.













Inside the vestibule were these incredible frescos. One cannot guess the age. Or maybe one can if they were educated enough. Our lads weren't. So they won't even try. Still, you get the feeling not many Australian blokes had ever stepped foot in here.

On the "highway" that runs along the coast north to south, the boys find little effigies dedicated to family members, lost in traffic accidents no doubt.

The landscapes here are extraordinary. Ancient decaying stone houses imitate the surrounds, and blend in effortlessly. The lads fantasise about owning one of these bits of rubble.

Being war-mongers, Albania is a hot destination. The Balkans in general. Nestled in a stunning little cove, we see some command bunkers which look out to Corfu.

And here is an artists impression of the greek isles, as seen from the Albanian coast, with the weather rolling in.

We leave the coast now, Part II will see the boys head inland, up into the hills and toward Macedonia. They have heard stories of large sacks of pistachio nuts going for a song, unique and endangered freshwater trout, ancient trading towns, mountains, and bazaars.

Join us, as we follow the lads, into the Albanian wilds.

Mt. Kilimanjaro.....

Climb Me....... I'm not too difficult.