I have to admit I went to Albania full of stereotypes and prejudices. Why? Well, it came from my experiences living in Greece – Albanians were a rather unpopular nation, and I didn’t have the best opinion of them either. Read on to find out if two weeks spent in Albania changed my opinion of the locals.

A Ferry Ride and a Waving Woman

My first Albanian encounter took place on the way to Vlore. Loading cars onto the ferry took ages, so it was difficult to find a free seat on board (we didn’t book a cabin). I wasn’t particularly keen on spending the night on the floor – I was walking between the seats, besieged by large Albanian families and looking for two free ones. No chance.

I happened to glance at an elderly woman – she was waving at me. I didn’t react, so she started waving even harder. I looked at her in surprise, but who knows, maybe she has some weird hobby and just likes waving to strange people. Apparently disgusted by my awkwardness, she pointed at me and gestured for me to come to her. The thought crossed my mind that maybe I either have something weird on my head or I look so pathetic that she wants to tell me to get myself together.

I approached — the woman triumphantly showed us two empty seats in the row right behind her and, no less forcefully, signaled for us to ‘sit down’. We did so; then, for three hours, the woman was talking to us without bothering herself with the language barriers. We used Google Translate, but it didn’t do a very good job, as the Albanian translations were accompanied by wide-eyed stares or head-scratching. Anyway, she clearly had a strong need to communicate, because when I started to nod off, she found other friends.

But in the morning, she slipped me a piece of paper with her phone number and an invitation for coffee. I realized she thought two weeks was plenty of time to visit her. Well, we never saw her again.

Mrs. A and the Mission (almost) Impossible 

On evening, just by chance we arrived in Gjirokastër. We hadn’t planned to visit it, but since we were nearby, we decided to pop in. Right at the entrance to the town, locals were standing by the road, offering private parking or car-sitting for a small fee, making a bit of extra money in this way. It was a sad sight, but on the other hand (oh, the stereotypes), we knew nothing about this town. Maybe they steal or vandalize cars there, and the locals stand by the road not for money, but because they care about tourists’ cars?

We decided to park in the private yard of a woman, let’s call her Mrs. A. She charged us 1 euro (!), locked the sturdy gate with a large padlock, and we went to see the castle. It was late, so we actually galloped around it. And because the view of Gjirokastër from the castle was fantastic, we decided to stay overnight and explore the town the next day. It was a great plan, but where should we sleep?

Using Google Translate, I asked Mrs. A for help – she nodded in understanding and dragged me to a nearby restaurant. After a heated discussion with the people there, they found us a guesthouse. It turned out to be pleasant, the owner was very kind, and we had a delicious dinner there at a reasonable price.

Filled up, we set off to explore the town and buy some face cream. I can brush my teeth with my finger, I can even wash my face with liquid soap, but I can’t live without cream. Wandering the picturesque streets we came across Mrs. A and her family. She was delighted to see us again, which she expressed with a tight hug. Fortunately, her daughter spoke English, so I asked her about an open shop with cosmetics.

And my innocent question began the action straight out of old movies, as the entire town rushed to help those in need. Mrs. A sent her husband home – he wasn’t useful on this mission. Then she grabbed my arm again and dragged me to the pharmacy, which was closed at that hour. I wanted to give up, but Mrs. A wouldn’t do it – she ran into a nearby shop and returned with a dozen or so people. They decided (her daughter was translating) to call the owner to have the pharmacy reopened.

After my protests (the cream wasn’t that important), they decided to send with me a three-person delegation to the handbag store, where I would definitely buy the cream. And indeed, I did! In the handbag store!

We met Mrs. A the next morning, and the effusive greeting ended with a three-hour coffee. It was really nice and really long. So, when we saw her again in the afternoon, just in case, we decided to hide.

When Greek Saved the Day in an Albanian Garage

Another day after a lovely time on the beach, we were leaving the parking lot, Mauro missed a pole and hit the car. Nothing serious happened, but the passenger door got stuck. It was late, so miraculously, we found the only mechanic still open at that hour. Attempts to explain what we wanted were futile – the mechanic spoke neither English nor Italian, and neither of us spoke Albanian. Even the famous Italian body language was useless. Worse still, the internet went on strike; Google Translate was down. Mauro began to stress; driving the rest of the holidays with the doors locked wasn’t a good idea.

Mechanic looked at us as we were some kind of freak – we wanted to go home, and he was interrupted by some strange tourists who didn’t even speak any human language –at least, not one he knew. ! Slightly irritated, he said something in Greek. I got you, I thought. I also speak Greek.

When it turned out we can communicate, the mechanic smiled broadly and told us to come back in the morning. The next day, one of the workers was repairing the car – let’s just say Italian mechanics have a slightly different approach than Albanian ones. Seeing this, Mauro almost had a heart attack. Anyway, they unlocked the door, which is what we were after. And even if by chance they chipped off some part of the car …. Well

Waiting for the car, I was chatting with the owner. Because we both used to live in Greece, we had a nice chat about Greece and food. Of course, I asked him about some good restaurants in the area, and I was given a long list with the best places marked. We went to two of them, and indeed, the garage owner turned out to be a good recommender.

The garage owner, apperantly happy that he could finally talk to foreign tourists, did not charge us a penny for repairing the car.

We wanted to pay, but he insisted and wouldn’t take a penny from us. And what’s best, when we were leaving, he told me that if our car broke down again, I should call him and he would come and fix it for free. Fortunately, we didn’t have to take advantage of his kindness anymore, even if it would be nice to speak Greek again.

How Fruit Changed My Mood in the Albanian Sun

On the way to Pogradec, we stopped in a village (I don’t remember the name) to see a mosque visible from the road. The rather long walk to the mosque led through fields, under the bright midday sun. There was nowhere to hide, so my mood wasn’t the best. I don’t like too much sun.

On our way back to the car, we heard a bicycle bell ringing behind us, so we stepped off the road, but the ringing continued. We stopped, turned around, and found ourselves face-to-face with an older man on a bicycle. He looked at us and wordlessly handed us two plump tomatoes. They were huge, red, and smelled heavenly of tomatoes. And they were delicious, as we later discovered. Needless to say, my bad mood vanished.

Still in the blazing sun, but with beautiful tomatoes, we approached the town. Trying to buy some ice cream, we strolled around the neighborhood and met him again after a few minutes. He smiled and this time handed us a bag full of delicious, juicy pears. I don’t know who this man was. Maybe he was some local mood booster? Or maybe he was just a human being, what we should all be—kind, warm, and generous.

As you can image, my opinion of Albania and Albanians has completely changed. The country is beautiful, and the people are friendly and helpful. I don’t know how long this will last, as Albania is becoming increasingly popular as a tourist destination. So, if you still want, as a tourist, to experience genuine human kindness, get there soon.