Tuesday morning came and went quickly. So quickly thaτ I could not even understand it even existed. I was busy writing and working on articles in the laptop, but I was also thinking. I was pondering on the situation in Albania and Albania society. Everyone that looks toward Albanian economics can understand that the indicators are looking “good”. This is only half trae. How good can things be in a country that has come this close to rocking bottom? How good can things be when there are so devastating social differences? How good can things be when development is dependant solely on the will and money of foreign investors and financial aid? And how good can things look when these elites head the country into a big financial Hubble, that is about to be burst in a really violent and devastating way? I tell you this is not as good as indicators show. The social contradictions are too big to ignore, and any kind of development comes and goes in pieces. Wages are very low and pensioners barely survive, with the help of their children and the imigrants of the family. A great deal of the income of most Albanian familiεs comes from members of the family that live and work abroad. In the States, Canada, Italy, Greece, the UK. Then again there is a big influx of yuppies , especially from crisis stricken sountries like Greece and Italy. Loads of executives that have moved to the country in search of an investment opportunity or a job that can provide them the comforts they will miss back home. On another note, the country is a fértile ground for any kind of profitteer. From bankers to dubious investors to mobsters and subcontractors with connections in high places, almost any kind of foreign businessman with aknack of bribing, Sterling and even killing in order to aquire the said rights. The type of businessman that Works and invests in the country, is the cut-throat sporting a bow-tie, a tuxeedo and a 500 dollar-a-piece gold plated watch. These vultures stand to gain a lot, while thw locals gain way less rights and Money. They have also given their helping hand in creating the Albanian version of a real estate bubble, by buying loads of properties along the coast and in Tirana itself, whithout caring about the consequences that the bursting of such a bubble might have on ordinary Albanians. Anyway, by noon I was in the airport, and climbing aboard the Olympic Airways Bombardier that would take me back to Athens. I was on the return of the greek yuppie trek. Yet, I wanted to see more of the country. At one point I would be back, in order to visit the “real Albania”. And that was the Albanian parto f Kosovo, with the high plateus and the towers…
Δευτέρα 3 Σεπτεμβρίου 2012
Tuesday- Conclusions and disilusions
Tuesday morning came and went quickly. So quickly thaτ I could not even understand it even existed. I was busy writing and working on articles in the laptop, but I was also thinking. I was pondering on the situation in Albania and Albania society. Everyone that looks toward Albanian economics can understand that the indicators are looking “good”. This is only half trae. How good can things be in a country that has come this close to rocking bottom? How good can things be when there are so devastating social differences? How good can things be when development is dependant solely on the will and money of foreign investors and financial aid? And how good can things look when these elites head the country into a big financial Hubble, that is about to be burst in a really violent and devastating way? I tell you this is not as good as indicators show. The social contradictions are too big to ignore, and any kind of development comes and goes in pieces. Wages are very low and pensioners barely survive, with the help of their children and the imigrants of the family. A great deal of the income of most Albanian familiεs comes from members of the family that live and work abroad. In the States, Canada, Italy, Greece, the UK. Then again there is a big influx of yuppies , especially from crisis stricken sountries like Greece and Italy. Loads of executives that have moved to the country in search of an investment opportunity or a job that can provide them the comforts they will miss back home. On another note, the country is a fértile ground for any kind of profitteer. From bankers to dubious investors to mobsters and subcontractors with connections in high places, almost any kind of foreign businessman with aknack of bribing, Sterling and even killing in order to aquire the said rights. The type of businessman that Works and invests in the country, is the cut-throat sporting a bow-tie, a tuxeedo and a 500 dollar-a-piece gold plated watch. These vultures stand to gain a lot, while thw locals gain way less rights and Money. They have also given their helping hand in creating the Albanian version of a real estate bubble, by buying loads of properties along the coast and in Tirana itself, whithout caring about the consequences that the bursting of such a bubble might have on ordinary Albanians. Anyway, by noon I was in the airport, and climbing aboard the Olympic Airways Bombardier that would take me back to Athens. I was on the return of the greek yuppie trek. Yet, I wanted to see more of the country. At one point I would be back, in order to visit the “real Albania”. And that was the Albanian parto f Kosovo, with the high plateus and the towers…
Πέμπτη 26 Ιουλίου 2012
Monday- Tirana (walking around and pondering on the block)
Sunday- Back to Base
Τετάρτη 25 Ιουλίου 2012
Saturday- Moving along Northern Hyperus.
Πέμπτη 19 Ιουλίου 2012
Friday- Southbound
Τρίτη 22 Μαΐου 2012
Thursday-Hit the North (and come back within the day)
I wanted to see the towers. I also wanted to see the sanctuaries. I wanted to see what the areas described in the journey of Gjork Berisha, before he was killed by the Kryjekukke family. I wanted to witness all the wonders witnessed by those American scholars that where chasing after the voices of those singing Homeric narratives. But no. The plateau of Kosovo, described by the creator of all those characters, Albania’s prolific writer, Ismael Kandare, was too far away for a simple day trip. The furthest away from Tirana we could move was Shkoder. Well that could be enough too. At least for a first visit to the Albanian North, or what they called “deep Albania”. The part of the country where the tradition of prince Lek’s orders still survived. The Kanun. That is the traditional law that every Albanian must follow on just about every issue of his everyday life, from simple day-to-day matters, ‘till the settling, or continuity, of the famous Albanian blood feuds. Honour killings still exist in the north. So does the right of every family to claim vengeance over its members that where killed by a member of another family. And though these laws where banned during the Hoxha regime, they came back in the nineties, partly thanks to Sali Berisha (a northerner) turning a blind eye to the phenomenon.
The road passed through a Northern Tirana suburb where “no one wants to end up” , as my stepfather’s friend Solace once said. That is because a lot of Northerners migrated there. The place looked run down and definitely is in a bad shape. Loads of traffic too. We where on our way up north where everything looked abandoned and derelict. No evidence of development here yet, except a wide array of furniture stores and some mini malls.
The weather looked typical of the Albanian North. That meant that it was cloudy, moist, and pockets of rain followed out Touareg in its every step. Towns and villages passed by, even when we where, again, what looked like the typical Albanian highway. A narrow strip of grass was standing between northbound and southbound lanes. To our left and to our right, the mountain ranges that form Albania’s natural landscape where closing slowly closing in on us.
All of a sudden we where off the highway and moving along the perimeter of a mountain. The weather had deteriorated and by now it was purely raining cats and dogs.. Even visibility was, at times, very limited. Thank god by the time we had reached the outskirts of Shkoder there was a break in the bad weather. The sun was shining again and we where beginning to get the feeling we could walk around town. We where fatally wrong, in this sense. First of all as soon as we entered town the stormy weather came in again. And then, there was nothing much to see in town too. It looked like the only things we could visit, the castle and the lake, where a hard catch for the day. And as we tried to negotiate the narrow road that goes around the lake and into Montenegro, the weather went from bad to much, much worse. We where mostly unable to see or spot anything from the windows, except what lay a few feet ahead of us. And again, it looked in a dreadful shape. In the following days Djodjas would tell us that this is what the weather is usually like, over there. Moist and rainy.
We ate nearby, and went on our way back to Tirana. Along the way my stepfather tried to fill the Touareg’s tank with petrol for the first time in his two year stay in the country. The employee in the gas station (someplace in the middle of nowhere), did not speak any English, my Italian did not come in handy either, but my stepdad managed to explain what he wanted to him, using his limited Albanian vocabulary and some signs. A few seconds later, and while the machine was pumping in gas, he overheard me making a silly joke on the price (while the price was in Lek, there was a Euro Sign (remember the Euro to Lek rate is 1:140) painted next to the display, because the machines had been imported second-hand from Italy), understood what I was saying and laughed with us (explaining in greek that the price was in Lek). The jokes continued, and soon another car came in, the occupants of which joined in the conversation and the laughter. We met five guys who where speaking greek, in a gas station, somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Northern Albania... The people I meet in my travel never cease to amaze me.
Having a full tank now, we moved down toward Tirana, to gain some early sleep time. The next morning we where starting a three-day trek along the Albanian south….
Τετάρτη 9 Μαΐου 2012
Wednesday – Around Ohrid and a small ride to Durres
Παρασκευή 4 Μαΐου 2012
Tuesday-moving toward lake Ohrid
Τρίτη 24 Απριλίου 2012
Monday- First Impressions are the lasting ones (?)
For the first time after a many years, I was getting airsick. The ride in the Bombardier Q400 of Olympic Air, was one of the bumpiest rides in my life. Below me lay a mountainous and forested terrain. We where taking the one of the four five Greek yuppie trails. One was to Sofia, one towards Bucharest, one towards Istanbul, and one towards Skopje. We where travelling one the remaining one., towards Tirana. Planeloads of Greek businessmen, CEO’S, brokers and directors travel along these trails. They are working, on weekdays, in Greek companies that have branched out in the Balkans. The main way is by plane, but some also travel by car. To my left I could see the city of Elbasan, with the river flowing by its side. Watery slides where forming on the window to my right. It was raining. As the airplane was continuing its descent on to the Nene Tereza airport of Tirana, my guts where making their presence more and more noisy. When we touched down at the airport, I was totally relieved. Within minutes we where in place and disembarking, and being moved across the tarmac towards the terminal. The next step of our adventure started there. We spent about thirty minutes waiting for passport control to stamp and wave us through. The desks where seriously undermanned. This was one of the wonders of capitalism and deregulation. We took our sole baggage (a small navy bag containing two vases of jam, cleared customs with great ease, walked out to find Armando and our car. Armando works as a driver for Ygeia hospital, where my stepfather works. He took us in a big VW Touareg, and drove us up to the hospital. My stepfather (who works as a director there) finished some small-time chores and then, we moved into the Touareg, to go to his apartment, for the night.. Meanwhile the rain was continuing uninterrupted. Meanwhile, the illustrious by nature Armando, was organising, by phone, a visit to the car’s insurance agent, to gain for us a green card for the vehicle. In 2010 I had been denied entry into FYROM, because my car had no green card. But this time, we where not to be barred from entry. We where going to beat the bureaucracy and see both sides of Lake Ohrid. Thirty minutes and thirty euros later, he told us that the next morning he would have the required paper and so we would be able to drive across the border. Our first stop toward the apartment was an Albanian shopping mall. We had to buy some food items, for the times when we would not venture to town in order to eat. At a glance I realised that a lot of brands on sale at the mall (and the supermarket) where Italian. There is a strong Italian influence in Albania, dating back to the middle ages, when Albanian mercenaries where working for the Italian kingdoms. But the great push toward the good relations with Italy, came with the Italian occupation during the Second World War. The Italians built most of the surface roads and all of the rail network. And most of these roads are still in use, in various degrees of decay. The Italian influence does not end in brands. A lot of Albanians study in Italy, and there is a huge Albanian migrant community there. Most of Albanians understand Italian. A lot of them understand and speak Greek too. There is a big Italian presence in the Albanian economy. Italians have some joint ventures with Albanians, and a good trading relationship with them. Even the Camora and the Sacra Corona Unita have Albanian contacts, and they trade between each other all sorts of contraband, from cigarettes, alcohol and stolen cars, to drugs, women and immigrant labour. There are also many foreign investors working in Albania. American Universities, Turkish-owned industrial areas, Greek constructors, Greek and American private healthcare companies, Greek, Austrian, Turkish and Italian bankers, Greek financiers, even industries producing Greek brands (like Alumil) and Greek Shopping Malls. Albania is a haven for outsourcing, investments and subsidiaries for foreign companies. Another thing I noticed within hours of the arrival in Tirana was the number of Mercedes cars in the streets. It is preposterous. After a short calculation about three out of ten cars moving in Albanian roads are Mercedes cars. That has an explanation that comes from the era of Emver Hoxha. The whole fleet of state limousines was comprised of Mercedes cars. And that happened when private car ownership was prohibited in the country. When, with the coming of capitalism, private car ownership became legal. About 300,000 Mercedes cars (mainly the W124) where imported (one way or another) in Albania. The Mercedes car is a strong status symbol in Albania. As an Albanian friend of my stepfather’s put it “ I still feel like a guy willing to double-cross his perfect wife for even a total minger, when a Mercedes passes by my car, even if it is a jalopy”. And this guy drives an Audi A4 All-road Quatro. After shopping we went to the apartment. He lives at the penthouse of a guarded community, in the vicinity of the heliport. The ride is a very bumpy one, through back-roads. But even the central roads in Tirana can prove a hard ride for most cars. The area surrounding the building looks like a derelict one. Anarchic building is also a feature of the area, and the suburbs of Tirana. There was absolutely no urban planning for these neighbourhoods. Most of the homes surrounding our guarded apartment building seemed to be in quite a bad shape. Most of their inhabitants are internal immigrants from the North. It was so anarchic that the monster my stepfather was driving had great difficulty in negotiating a lot of turns and manoeuvres. Thank God for the zillion of electronic gizmos it used. The sensors saved us from near collision a lot of times. The state of the roads was no help either
We went for a small nap, and then went out for a meal. Our destination was a restaurant next to Qemal Stafa Stadium. Once again I noticed the state of roads in Tirana. A huge gaping hole was in front of us, right at the intersection with the road that would lead us to Kavaja Street. We passed through it with great care, turned the street, then made a left on Kavaja street. We passed right next to “The Block”, then made a right on Skenderberg Square, passed Hoxha’s pyramid, the polytechnic, a couple of private universities (there are loads of them in Tirana) , a couple of Embassies and finaly reached the Stadium. Mind you the ride from Skenderberg Square to the Stadium did not include any potholes or bumps. The tarmac was straight, and well preserved because we where in the area where the presidential palace, a lot of ministries and foreign embassies are situated. We arrived in the restaurant, and I toom my first taste of Albanian Cuisine.
It is similar to the cuisine of most of the countries in the Balkans, though it includes a lot of vegetables. That suits the Albanian vegetarians perfectly. And there are a lot of them. I had a delicious spicy sausage and a salad of red, yellow and green peppers. Just delicious. In the end we returned to the comfort of the penthouse and our beds. On the next day we where visiting lake Ohrid.
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