Germenj

June 16, 2018

At breakfast we enjoyed a conversation with a youngish couple at the next table, both fluent in English - a relative rarity since we entered Albania. They’re an interesting professional couple on vacation here from their home in London, but neither is British - they met there at university, but he is from Athens and she from Alsace. Among others things, we were surprised to learn that he bicycles himself and is aware of Bike Fridays.

We went to bed worried about the rain, and nothing has changed overnight. Rain, at times heavy, is expected to start sometime around 11 and continue into the evening. We resign ourselves to the likelihood of getting wet today but get on the road soon after breakfast with the aim of putting in as many miles as possible before the rains hit.

As we set out, Rachael reminds me that our priority today is to keep dry, not to take a lot of photos. I can take photos of truly interesting things, but need to stay on task. I agree, and we set off at a good pace. This being Albania though, there are many truly interesting things coming our way, and I’m often conflicted.

We do pretty well at keeping at covering distance, but we’re held up again and again by sights and views that are just too compelling to bike past without pausing. Also by the road itself, which deteriorates significantly as soon as we leave Përmet- it’s alternates rough surfaced and broken stretches with reasonable pavement for the entire day, and most of the time you can’t really glide down the hills because of the road quality. Also, it’s quite narrow and becomes steadily more so as the day wears on. By the time we reach our hotel it feels not much wider than a good bike path.

We’re in luck with the weather though - we see clouds building up all morning and dense skies in various sectors, but they keep their distance from us and we manage to stay dry for the first twenty miles as we bike southeast along the Vjosa toward the Greek Border.

A mile out of town, we encounter our first sheep drive. Scenes like this are becoming so common as to almost not be noteworthy any more.

If the weather just holds up like this, it makes for a refreshing ride - very comfortable, almost cool.

It’s our friends from breakfast this morning! They’re going our way, but can’t fit us into the trunk so we just exchange emails and chat a bit more. The man with the wheelbarrow is just added for some local color.

Not far from the Greek border we pass through a very dramatic area - mountains tower above us, striking rock formations line the roadside. Today brought some of the finest scenery of the tour.

We put in a lot of climbing today on short rises like this, climbing a few hundred feet off the valley floor at a bend in the river, and then dropping back down again. Here we’ve topped out at one of the best viewpoints of the tour.

The Vjosa alternates narrow throats between the cliffs with arable patches like this. We’re continuously climbing over small rises and topping out to views like this.

We’re right at the Greek border here. The Vjosa makes a ninety degree bend to the northeast and becomes the Greek border for a few miles.

Greece on the opposit bank, and Albania on ours

Leaving the Greek border, we bend back northwest and start climbing. We’ve still got about twenty miles until reaching our hotel, and about seven miles until we reach Leskovik - the only settlement we’ll come to all day that is big enough for a lunch break. We’ve been hoping that we’d get there dry and then just hang out waiting for a decent break in the weather to make a dash for the final miles.

Our hopes were nearly realized. It began almost imperceptibly misting about at the border, and slowly but steadily amplified as we climbed toward Leskovik. It was tantalizing to see the town high above us, still a few miles off and eight hundred feet up, plastered across a shoulder of the ridge beneath a massive rock. The gradually increasing rain gives plenty of incentive to keep a steady pace, but the quite rough road surface is little help.

Near the top, a car pulls up alongside and the window rolls down. It’s our friends from breakfast again! They call out words of encouragement and sympathy and then move on.

Which reminds me: one of the themes of our tour of Albania is the striking scenes of people leading their lives in a way we rarely see any more. You want to photograph them, but you don’t want to be give offense either. I’m careful to ask first before photographing someone nearby, and it’s hit or miss - most smile and nod, some seem flattered, some want to be on Facebook, some indicate that they don’t wish to be photographed. The tables were turned earlier today though when a car rolled up beside me, the window came down and the passenger showed their camera, wanting to know if was OK to take my photo. As they drove off, an arm and phone protruded from the car, taking a video of me. I’ll be on Facebook! I guess bike travelers are a bit of an odd sight too.

Rachael reaches the top a bit ahead of me as usual, and is waiting at a sheltered spot. When I arrive we bike a few hundred yards down to the center and pull in to the obvious spot. It’s starting to rain harder now, so we’re happy to arrive. The lunch options aren’t the best (spaghetti with catsup, for example), but we don’t care much - it’s just nice to sit inside and wait out the rain.

While we wait for our meal to arrive, Rachael realizes she’s lost her phone. Thinking back, it seems it must have been at the spot where she was waiting for me. I hop on the BF and head back, where happily I find it still sitting on a surface where she’d set it down. Lucky this time!

After leaving the Viola we start a susstained climb, rising 2,000’ in about ten miles. It’s not a bad climb, but the issue is the weather. We’re hoping to get to Leskovik, the town on the saddle where we’ll break for lunch, before the rains arrive.

We got a bit wet on the way to Leskovik, but it’s not bad. It looks like the worst of the weather is piled up on the opposite side of the ridge. When we come out after lunch conditions have improved again. Rachael has gotten the shakes a bit from getting damp and coming out in the cool air, but the climb soon takes care of that.

By the time we finish lunch the skies have lightened, the rain has ceased, and there’s enough blue above that we’re hopeful of completing the ride dry. It’s still eleven miles to the hotel, rolling all the way, and the road surface continues rough and slow. What a beautiful ride though! We’re in different country now - at a higher elevation, about 3,000’ up, and out of the valley. We’re alternately biking through pine forests and velvety, unfenced meadows. We’re constantly passing by things of interest - a pair of saddled donkeys walking unattended along the road; a herd of cattle grazing in the woods, on the shoulder, wandering in the road; a gorgeous herd of horses; and again and again, a flock of sheep or herd of goats tended by a lone shepherd and maybe a dog or two.

At one point I round a bend and come across a wreck scene - the road is blocked by a pair of cars that have collided, and folks are sitting on the shoulder looking glum. I panic a bit at first, hoping I won’t see Rachael and a crumpled bike in the mix, but relax when I see a policeman waving me on. If the police are on the scene in this remote spot, this must have happened some time ago.

With a mile or two to go, and we wonder if we’ll arrive dry after all. Skies are darkening fast, and we’re starting to hear thunder. It holds off for us, but before long it’s raining again; and during dinner tonight it really comes down.

We’re in a bit of an odd spot tonight, chosen because it’s the only lodging for miles around - a small bar/restaurant/inn beside the road, miles from anything. It’s pretty quirky. We’re on the third floor, at the top of a tight corkscrew staircase almost too narrow to climb with your luggage; the power outlets don’t work on that floor for some reason, so our host runs an extension cord up to us from the floor below so we can recharge our devices; there are two power outages during the evening; the shower situation is unique, with a shower head protruding from the bathroom wall but there is no shower stall at all; and the meal options are pretty limited. All in all, this is probably the poorest eating day of the trip.

We don’t mind though. We came in with realistic expectations, and are happy to have found a place when we needed it. And the beer is good, and they have WiFi. And it’s dirt cheap, at 19 euros including breakfast. Almost feels like camping.

Tonight Rachael reviewed her GoPro catch of the day and got very excited. The whole ride really was exceptional. Her first three video day!

The last ten miles of the day are lovely, cycling through a pine forest that breaks out into views like this.

There are sheep here. Also many cows in the road, which I didn’t bother photographing. Note the road itself though - this is the main road through this country but it’s just a rough, narrow singletrack. We have to pull off when the rare car comes by.

These beautiful horses are just off the road, unfenced, in this velvety meadow that continued beside us for a few miles. It has a serene, edenic quality.

A different set of horses that walked over to the edge of the road toward me. I’m not sure if they were curious, or just coming up to their favorite scratching post.

The Guesthouse Gërmenj, our home for the night

Our room is up there; not the easiest trek carrying panniers.

And even harder going down. Your basic size twelve foot barely fits on these stairs, sideways.

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Ride stats today:43 miles, 4,700’; for the tour: 1,702 miles, 148,000’

Today's ride: 43 miles (69 km)
Total: 1,616 miles (2,601 km)

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Suzanne GibsonLoved the videos - they give a great feeling of the ride. Glad you captured the goats, too.
What a stunning day. I look forward to the daily reports. I'll be sorry when your ride is over although I'm sure you will enjoy a respite.
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6 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Suzanne GibsonIt was a stunning day, alright; as was every day in Albania, really. Knowing what I know now, I would have shaved some days elsewhere (we’re looking at you, Corfu) and spent more time here.

We’re both ready for a breather, alright, but I’m really going to miss this tour. I hope we can find th legs to pass this way again some year.
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6 years ago

Jen RahnWonderful photos, videos, and descriptions. The similarities with South Dakota are uncanny! Well - except for the absence of large RVs in Albania.

Very cool that some of the people there are open to you taking their photos.

Also, I can relate to using the weather forecast as the taskmaster. ;0)
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6 years ago