Eastern Europe

On the Road to Durrës, Albania: or Lady Bugs, Metallic Men and a Beautiful Seaside City

| 2suitcasesfor2years

Loose gravel gently slid down from the top of the earthen embankment along the road. It was the “heads up!” prelude to a small herd of goats scurrying down the slope to cross the road ahead of us. The last to cross was a young yearling goat, unsure of his footing. It was a transition day for us. We had left Lin, on the shore of Lake Ohrid, near the border with North Macedonia, earlier that morning to drive to Durrës, on the Adriatic Sea. The journey of only 90 miles, 142 km, was our longest single drive in Albania, and can be accomplished in three hours, if so desired. But with us there is always something that piques our interest and requires a detour or U-turn.

Much of the SH3 highway that connects Lin, through Elbasan, to Durrës traverses a sparsely populated remote region of Albania. Occasionally, in what seemed the middle of nowhere, we passed enterprising farmers who had set up temporary produce stands perched atop the road’s guardrails, their donkeys tied nearby. Sadly, factories abandoned after the fall of communism littered the countryside. In Prrenjas though, the artist Eljan Tanini whimsically covered the towers of a defunct nickel mine with 1,380 charming ladybugs, a symbol of good fortune and hope for the future.

On the outskirts of Elbasan we stopped for a snack at the Elita Grill, a newly opened restaurant. It was a very attractive, contemporary space, which stood as a nice counterbalance to the rustic region we had just driven through. The pastries and coffees were very good, and the prices budget friendly. Across the street, the dome of a larger-than-average Cold War era concrete bunker inched above a mechanics shop.

Entering Elbasan we passed the Xhamia e Nazireshës mosque. Across the street from it, a dreamy street mural of a child playfully dancing amidst clouds graced the side of an apartment building. Unfortunately, the traffic was too congested in this spot, and we didn’t stop. An abandoned train track paralleled most of our route from Prrenjas to Elbasan. The rail line once carried nickel ore to the Kombinati Metalurgjik, a huge industrial complex that was built with cooperation from Chairman Mao’s Chinese Communist Party in the 1970’s. The site, easily seen from the highway, now lies in ruins and is a popular spot for amateur industrial archeologists. But at its height it employed 12,000 people and produced the iron, steel and cement for Albania’s 173,000 military bunkers ordered built by the paranoid communist dictator Enver Hoxha, who feared invasion from everyone. We were getting hungry as we reached Tirana. While there were numerous lunch options available, we wanted something with easy on and off access, close to our route. With a quick google search we chose the restaurant Xhafa, which had an outside patio on a hillside that overlooked Tirana. From our experiences across Albania we found that the food was delicious no matter where we stopped. As it was here. Leaving the restaurant, we noticed a large futuristic metallic head in front of an office building next door. We are not sure, but we think the sculpture can be accredited to the Albanian sculptor, Ilirjan Xhixha.

We continued our westerly drive along SH3 until signs for Durrës directed us onto SH2. We wished we had been prepared with our cameras for what emerged next. Across the highway, the most unusual building crowned a small hill. It was seven stories tall, with a neoclassical birthday cake-like façade. On the multi-level corners of the building larger than life statues of the Illyrian Kings stood, as if they were surveying the landscape. Centered atop the colossal building was a mammoth sculpture of the great warrior Skanderbeg, the famous 15th century commander who united Albanians to rebel against the Ottoman Empire. This grand building, with its Las Vegas-type schmaltz, was the Amadeus Palace Hotel. If you enjoy quirky, off-beat things, this might be a place to check out.

We arrived in Durrës late in the afternoon, just in time to see a passenger ferry from Italy enter the harbor, as we drove along the waterfront. Parking with a rental car is always a concern, but we had asked the hotel, Ventus Harbor, where to park. “During the April shoulder season there is plenty of free parking available close to the hotel,” was the response. We are always skeptical of these easy answers, and there was street parking a short distance from the hotel. Though there was an informal parking assistant waving to drivers coming down the street, pointing as to where to park or wait as a cement truck driver readied a delivery to a construction site. We tipped him and hoped for the best. At the reception desk we told them where we left the car, and they said it would be okay, but we could also park on the pier which led to the floating hotel if we preferred. While that option was closer, it required driving through a small, pedestrian-filled shopping mall. The car stayed where we left it and was fine for two days.

Though the futuristically designed Ventus Harbor appears to float above the Adriatic Sea like a spaceship, it is in fact built securely atop pilings pounded into the seabed and connected to shore via a narrow, 300ft long suspension bridge. The hotel’s refreshing uniqueness, which contrasts so distinctively with the stone castles and villages of rural Albania, was our main reason for choosing to stay there.

Towards sunset we headed to the promenade along the seafront and were engulfed by families and friends enjoying the xhiro, the Albanian tradition of an evening stroll to relax and socialize. Fishermen cast the last lines of the day into gentle waves as we walked towards the setting sun and the Sfinksi, a small concrete step pyramid where folks gathered to watch the sun dip below the horizon as the sky faded from a fiery orange to the blue of the evening.

The city’s night skyline slowly awakened with lights, before the stars shined. It was a warm April evening and we slept well with the door to the balcony open, listening to the water lap against the pilings below us.

After breakfast we walked along the promenade into Durrës’ historic old town, which has been centered around the harbor since time immemorial. It has been Albania’s economic engine and vital link connecting Europe to Asia Minor since Greece established a trading colony there in 7th century BC. An Illyrian Kingdom followed in the 4th century BC. But it was the Roman Empire which left the most significant impact. The Romans turned the ancient town, now Illyricum, into a vital trade and military hub with the creation of the Via Egnatia, a cobbled road that crossed 700 miles through the rugged Balkan mountains to Thessaloníki, Greece, and Constantinople. Troops, merchants and religion flowed across its path. The Apostle Paul traveled this route to Durrës in the 1st century, a time when Christians were still thrown to the lions for entertainment in the coliseum across the Roman Empire. Upon the Western Roman Empire’s collapse in 476, the Byzantine Empire filled the void until the tumultuous Dark and Middle Ages brought a succession of invaders to the region. Visigoths, Huns, Bulgarians, Slavs, Normans, and Venetians conquered and fled until the armies of the Ottoman Empire arrived in the 15th century. Austria ruled for a time during WWI. Mussolini’s Fascist troops landed in the port at the start of WWII. The Albanian’s communist partisans defeated their opponents after WWII. In 1967, as if needing to put a sword into the heart of any remaining hope the people of Albania had, the communist dictator, Enver Hoxha, banned all religions, and proclaimed, in the city where the Apostle Paul preached, that Albania is “the first atheistic state in the world.” The city and country has had a turbulent history to say the least.

“Walk a little, and the café,” is a philosophy we like to indulge in, and after our stroll along the promenade past statues of gladiators, liberation fighters, and modern art we needed a break to savor a fine Spring day before reaching the ruins of the city’s ancient Roman amphitheater. The amphitheater was the largest in the Balkans and capable of holding 20,000 spectators.

We passed through a gate in the last remaining section of a defensive wall that once encircled the city. The city’s first ramparts, which stood 40ft tall and stretched for three miles around the core of Durrës, were built by the Byzantine Emperor Anastasius I, a native son, in the 5th century AD. The walls were later expanded and improved upon by the Venetians with stones repurposed from the amphitheater after it suffered irreparable damage from a devastating earthquake in 1267. During the Ottoman era homes were built over the site. Surprisingly, they were rediscovered in 1966 by archeologists surveying the area to identify sites that might be of interest to western tourists. Based on the size of its ruins, the amphitheater must have been magnificent. Sadly, the site has not been improved, and sits surrounded by apartment buildings, but it is on the short list of sites for future inclusion in the UNESCO World Heritage program. Oddly, archeology and building concrete bunkers across Albania were two of Enver Hoxha’s passions.

From the amphitheater it was only a short stroll to the Bulevardi Epidamn, Durrës’ prettiest avenue. It’s not a particularly long street, but its pleasant five blocks are lined with stately palm trees, that give it a splendid Costa del Sol vibe.

We followed it until we reached a well-preserved Venetian Tower, that was once part of the defensive wall that encircled the city, across from the harbor. It was an interesting plaza with more statutes commemorating partisan heroes and a gleaming metal sculpture of Redon, the Illyrian god of the sea, which was strikingly similar to the statue in Tirana. This statue, which nicely blends modern technology with the historical past through its use of materials, was also created by the Durrës-born artist, Ilirjan Xhixha.

Before returning to the waterfront, we detoured back towards the amphitheater, where earlier we had passed a tiny window-in-the-wall bakery, confidently named Bule’s Best Byrek in Town, and single handedly run by the formidable Bule. We bought several byrek and enjoyed them as we picnicked along the coast. The cheese and spinach ones were our favorites, and indeed were delicious, and so inexpensive. Go early, as they sell out quickly.

It was still the Spring shoulder season, and many restaurants stayed closed until the warmer weather in May arrives. We had crisscrossed Albania for two weeks by this time and were familiar with prices, but the night before we choose to dine at slightly upscale establishment, for a nice seafood dinner, that received good reviews. While our dinners were tasty, the portions were smaller than what’s typically Albanian. And it was the first time that we felt there was some tourist price-gouging happening.

For our last night in Durrës we decided to go no-frills. After much hemming and hawing we entered the Hepta Grill, a Greek fast-food restaurant, located at the base of the walkway that led to our hotel. The place was lively, the staff was nice, and the food was perfect. We left thinking we could enjoy living in Durrës.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

An Albanian Road Trip: Lin, Lake Ohrid & the Monastery of Saint Naum

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Our planned route for a 3-week trip around Albania looked like a large numeral 6. After starting in Tirana, we’d head south to Berat, and Sarande, before cutting across the southeastern part of the country to Gjirokaster, Leskovik, Korçë, and Lin, on Lake Ohrid. Of course, there were numerous other stops and detours along the way, which we wrote about in our earlier blogs. But the road from Korce to Lin passed through the small city of Pogradec on the southern shore of Lake Ohrid, only 9 miles from the border with North Macedonia. From there the 10th century Monastery of Saint Naum was only minutes away. “It’s so close, and we have the car. It’s an opportunity we’ll regret not taking.”  Let’s go, we both agreed. Many day trips to the monastery originate in Tirana, but if you have a rental car, it’s less expensive than taking an organized tour. Albania and North Macedonia are not part of the European Union Schengen program, which permits unrestricted passage through member nations’ borders without stopping at a border checkpoint for a passport stamp. Traveling between Albanian and North Macedonia is done the old fashion way. Not all car rental companies in Albania allow their cars to be driven into North Macedonia. Notify the car rental company when making the reservation that you want to drive to into North Macedonia, as there are some documents needed from the car rental company: a Green Card, which is proof of international car insurance; permission from the car rental country that they are allowing the car to be driven in North Macedonia; and an International Driver’s License in Latin characters in case it is requested. At the border be prepared to show all travelers’ passports and pay a Border Crossing Fee.

Grey skies hung low over Pogradec as we headed east along SH64. Occasionally we passed abandoned Cold War era concrete bunkers along the lakefront. These were remnants of Albania’s communist dictator Enver Hoxha’s paranoia, which convinced him that Albania was surrounded by enemies, and that Pogradec would be prepared to resist an amphibious attack.

The border crossing at Tushemisht – St. Naum went very quickly, with only a few questions about our intended destinations and length of stay in North Macedonia. Minutes later we entered the manicured grounds of Saint Naum’s Monastery. Our first impressions were that we had arrived at a resort or theme park the way the souvenir shops and restaurants lined the midway as we headed to the ancient monastery.

It was built by Saint Naum, in 905, during the later part of his life, after he had spent decades spreading Orthodox Christianity and literacy throughout the Balkans as a follower of Saints Cyril and Methodius. Past the souvenir shops, boat rentals were available for rowing on the amazingly clear waters of the Black Drin spring. Its waters emerge through an underground stream from Lake Prespa, located higher in the mountains, before they flow into Lake Ohrid.

Getting closer, we crossed a footbridge and encountered our first of several splendid peacocks, roaming freely about the complex. Then there were only directional signs pointing the way around the multistory, three-star Hotel Saint Naum, which encircles the monastery on three sides, and obscured any distant view of the monastery, which commands a small knoll on the lake edge. Saint Naum is recognized as a miracle worker and healer who cured the sick as soon as they looked him in the eye. This belief in his ability to heal has inspired Christian and Bektashis Muslim pilgrims to visit the site since his death in 910. The veneration of the saint’s relics is believed to help those suffering from psychological and fertility issues.

Eventually, we found a very ancient door into the courtyard where the monastery stands overlooking Lake Ohrid. Little remains left of the original monastery. After five centuries, the current church was built atop the old monastery’s original foundation.

The interior of that 16th century church survives, but the exterior design and brickwork has been renovated numerous times over the years, and hardly shows its age. Unlike the ancient churches nearby in Voskopojë, Albania, which still carry every wound inflicted upon them over the centuries.

Inside the chapel is quite small, but richly decorated with warmly polished, intricately carved woodwork, and a gilded iconostasis created by local Macedonian craftsmen in the early 18th century. The religious frescoes that adorn the walls of the chapel were painted in 1806 by Trpo Zograf of Korçë. Many of the lower parts of the murals have been worn away by the touches of the faithful seeking blessings.

Leaving the site, we descended the knoll in a different direction and happened upon the Church of Saint Petka at the base of the hill. It’s a charming petite chapel that serves as the monastery’s baptistry. Brilliantly colored Orthodox iconography covers every inch of the walls from floor to ceiling in a celebration of faith. A comparison between the two churches was inevitable, and led us to reflect upon what the interior of the older church might have looked like ages ago.

The restaurants at the monastery complex were too overpriced for what they served, so we headed back to Pogradec for lunch. During the high season, mostly Albanian vacationers are drawn to the city’s long sandy beach along Lake Ohrid, the largest on the lake, and support a thriving hotel, and restaurant scene.

But in late April many were still closed, and some of the ones which were open didn’t have any customers. So, we opted for lunch at Pizza Restorant Artist, on Rruga Reshit Çollaku, across from the waterfront. The place was fairly busy, and to our great joy they offered an amazing variety of Italian dishes and pizza. It was some of the best Italian food we’ve had outside of Italy, and very budget friendly. Parking on the street was a little unusual as there was an authorized parking attendant that watched several blocks and ran up to us to secure payment when we pulled into a space. He gave us in return a receipt for display on the dashboard. After lunch a window display in a shop next to the restaurant caught our attention. It was the workshop of Pirro Icka, a fourth-generation woodcarver, according to the plaque in the window. Unfortunately, the shop was closed, but the window display featured some wonderfully intricate carved pieces, which would have been the perfect Albanian souvenir.

Late in the afternoon we arrived at Lin. It’s a small, isolated village on a headland that protrudes into Lake Ohrid, like a thumb up on a closed fist. We took a few minutes to scout along the narrow lane that runs the length of the village and passes a mosque and church, before it dead ends between homes near the tip of the headland. We had passed the arrow pointing to House 1960, our lodging for the night, but did not know where to park. The village seemed empty, and we had not encountered any other cars along the lane. So, I waited while Donna followed a walkway between homes and returned a few minutes later with one of our hosts, Emory. His wife, Merita, was waiting for us when we arrived at their home, an older village house, that the couple had renovated with help of their adult sons. The inn was very nice and our room stunning with a high cathedral ceiling.  Accented with gorgeous blond wood trim, it was bright and airy. In late April all the small restaurants were still closed, but Merita offered to cook meat or lake fish, caught that morning, for our dinner. The Lake Ohrid brown trout accompanied with homemade pickled vegetables was delicous.

Fishermen from Lin and other villages in Albania and North Macedonia, which surround the lake, set out early every morning in small boats to catch trout, which has been considered a delicacy, and a staple in the local communities since ancient times. Recently discovered submerged archeological evidence of a community that lived in stilt houses above the lake dates to 6500 BC, and confirms Lin as one of the oldest communities in Europe. The weather still hadn’t cleared as we went to bed, but we kept our fingers crossed for better conditions in the morning.

A brilliant blue sky greeted us and prompted a quick decision to trek to the far side of the headland before breakfast. The trail started where the lane dead ended and wove between several homes before we were out of the village. Walking along the lakeshore, the blues of the lake blended seamlessly into the sky. On the landward side the headland towered over us as we rounded the shoreline. The path was only as wide as our feet and somewhat treacherous at certain points, when a section required a rock scramble across it. The shoreline between the lake and the headland eventually widened to reveal farm plots, separated by rows of rough stone walls. Our host had mentioned the evening before that the folks of Lin pride themselves on being nearly self-sufficient. That it was an ethic and skill passed down over the generations, because of the village’s remote location. It’s a beautiful but not a particularly easy trek to the farm plots on the lakeshore, and yet we saw several older villagers carrying their tools on their daily trek to their garden plots.

Continuing back to the village we worked our way to the apex of the headland, where the ruins of a 6th century Byzantine church are cordoned off to protect a very large and well preserved intricate floor mosaic from an earlier Roman temple. Signage on the fence details the site and mentioned that the mosaics, which are unprotected from the elements, are currently covered with sand to protect them from further deterioration. The information plaque also mentioned that the mosaics are uncovered twice a year for public viewing and included the phone number of the local caretaker.

The panoramic views out over the lake from the top of the peninsula were amazing. The lake’s clear water sparkled, and dozens of small fishing boats rocked gently on small waves that rolled across its surface. No wonder Lin and its surroundings are part of the Natural and Cultural Heritage of the Ohrid Region, an UNESCO site, which recognizes the importance of the unique aquatic ecosystems surrounding the clearest and deepest lake, reaching depths of 945 ft, in the Balkans. Lake Ohrid is thought to be one of the oldest bodies of fresh water in the world, and supports a diverse variety of 1200 different plant and animal species, 200 of which are endemic to the lake.

Walking downhill back through the village we stopped to photograph a scene. It was only when we started walking again that I caught some motion in my peripheral vision and saw the freshly slaughtered cow hanging from a sturdy tripod stand, with three villagers attending to it, in front of a store that had a coffee shop sign above its door. They waved. A little farther down the lane, we passed an older woman walking up the hill carry small buckets of milk.  She must have been 15 years older than us, but she was a hearty soul and ended up lapping us three times.  When we returned to the inn Merita had some freshly baked bread and muffins waiting for us, along with a fig jam, made with the fruit from the tree in the front yard, feta cheese, butter, yogurt, and eggs sourced from various neighbors. We enjoyed our short time in Lin and wished that we had made plans to stay longer.

Back on the highway, the road rose into the mountains and we pulled over for one last look. In the fields outside the village a row of Hoxha’s bunkers sporadically emerged from the soil like mushroom caps, near where the marine archeologists discovered the submerged village on pilings.  Perhaps Hoxha’s paranoia was justified, but he was several millennia late.

Till next time, Craig & Donna

An Albanian Road Trip: Voskopoja and Korce – Snowy Mountains, Ancient Churches & a Skyscraper 

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“The old timers say on a stormy day like this you can hear their cries on the wind when you pass through Borove,” our host commented mysteriously as he learned of our plans to drive along the SH75 towards Voskopoja and then Korce. Evidence of Albania’s new investments in its road infrastructure to support tourism in southeastern part of the country were visibly apparent, with bridges being repaired, as well as sections of the road being widened, and repaved along our serpentine route through beautiful, forested mountains. The mountains finally receded behind us as we coasted downhill into a wide valley with gently rolling hills.

As we rounded a bend, a tall brooding silhouette loomed over the road. The statue of two resistance fighters captured in a decisive moment of attack commemorates the July, 1943 partisan ambush of a German troop convoy through the valley, near the hamlet of Barmash. The battle raged for hours and left 60 enemy soldiers dead, and numerous vehicles destroyed.  Sadly, the second part of this event revealed itself several miles away in the larger village of Borove. Here stairs on the outskirts of the village quietly led to the top of a knoll and the Memorial i Viktimave të Masakrës së Borovës. This heart-rending site contains the graves of 107 men, women and children massacred the next day when Nazi troops returned to the area and set their village ablaze in retaliation. It’s a moving memorial, and we stayed until a pounding rain forced us back to our car.

Farther along we passed through Ersekë. It’s one of Albania’s highest towns, sitting at an elevation of 3,445 ft on a high plain, in the shadow of the Greece’s Pindus mountain range. This southeastern part of Albania is very remote, and the village so close to the Greek border, that during the communist era villagers were prevented from leaving the town, on the fear that an abandoned village on the border would invite Greek expansionism. The town is most noticeable for its well-maintained communist era minimalistic architecture.

Reaching Korce we turned west onto SH63 and headed back into the mountains, our destination, the ancient Orthodox churches of Voskopoja. Light rain turned into 3 inches of wet snow as we drove higher into the mountains. This didn’t particularly faze us as we both have decades of experience driving on wintry roads in northeastern United States. But the drastic change of weather did, considering 10 days earlier, when we arrived in Tirana we rejoiced in 80F weather for several days earlier in the month. The saving grace – there were literally no other cars on the road.

On a snowy Sunday afternoon in late April we practically had the whole town to ourselves. It was quite serene and beautiful with the fresh snow clinging to the trees, and tufts of spring greenery poking through the snow on the ground. We found Saint Nicholas Church and gingerly made our way down the puddled walkway to shelter under the exonarthex and shake the snow off our jackets before entering the sanctuary.

The walls of this covered porch area were painted with illustrative religious stories designed to visually educate the illiterate, warn the sinners, and inspire the devout, before entering the church. Sadly, the frescoes show the scars from being vandalized during the Ottoman era, but their beauty is still evident.

We had expected a caretaker to be present, though no one was around, but the door to the church was unlocked and we entered. The ancient cavernous space was barley lit with only two bare bulbs and the light from several small windows, but it was enough to see that every surface of the whole interior was beautifully illuminated in ancient orthodox iconography.

Liturgical music was faintly audible in the background as we admired the artisitic vision and faith that inspired this moving creation. Constructed in 1721, the frescoes are attributed to the painter David Selenica, and his assistants, the religious brothers Constantine and Christos.

This team also famously painted religious iconography in the monasteries on Mount Athos. It’s amazing the church survived several centuries of turbulent history, only to be atrociously used as a storage depot during the communist era. The church, as beautiful as it is, was also a little spooky with centuries of candle soot covering the walls and gilded wood-carved iconostasis. Afterwards we headed to Kisha e Shën Mëhillit, the Church of Saint Michael, 1722, just on outskirts of the village and found it surrounded with scaffolding. Though disappointed, this was an encouraging sign that restoration was under way. Unfortunately, the road leading to the Church of St. Elija, the last church built in Voskopoja in 1751, was under repair and a muddy mess that deterred us from reaching it. But we did get to view the Shënepremte Church perched on a hill above an old Ottoman era bridge. By mid-afternoon our stomachs were growling and we feared there wouldn’t be a place open to eat in the village. (This is an issue during off-season travel when many establishments close. It’s wise to bring snacks along.) Luckily, we found the Taverna Voskopojë open, and full of activity that Sunday afternoon. Their lakror, a pastry-style traditional Albanian pie, filled with ground meat or vegetables, is common to the Korçë region, and was delicious. The house wine was also very good.

First mentioned in 14th century historical records, Voskopoja was once one of the largest cities outside Istanbul, and the most important trading, cultural and religious center in the Balkans from the 1600’s to the 1800’s. It was during this height of prosperity that the city had an estimated population of between 30,000 – 60,000 and supported 26 Orthodox churches richly decorated with Byzantine frescoes; the only printing house in the Balkans; and a New Academy or Greek school. Its influence and wealth stemmed from metal smithing, wool processing and tanneries. Merchandise from these industries supplied the traders that traveled along the Tsarigrad Road. The road was an old caravan route that connected Rome to its colonies in Sofia and Plovdiv, Bulgaria, before reaching Tsarigrad, the Slavic name for Constantinople. In later centuries the route passing through Voskopoja connected it to the Venetian ports on the Adriatic Sea and Belgrade.

The armies of Rome, the Huns, and the Ottoman Empire also followed this route through Albania and in the process brought new ideas and religions with them. During the Middle Ages the Christian Byzantine Empire encouraged the spread of the Eastern Orthodox religion into the Balkans along the ancient trade route, which was most famously followed by the early evangelists Cyril and Methodius. They made tremendous inroads with the pagan Balkan tribes by leading Mass, not in Latin, but in the Slavic language, an act many church leaders in Rome considered blasphemous at the time.

Voskopoja flourished peacefully under the Ottoman Empire’s millet system, where “Christians and Jews were considered dhimmi, protected, under Ottoman law in exchange for sworn loyalty to the state and payment of the jizya, a religious tax on non-Muslims,” until the 1768. Then the Russian-Ottoman war fueled an anti-orthodox sentiment and the government in Istanbul allowed Voskopoja in 1769 to be sacked and burned by Muslim tribes from the Dangëllia region around Përmet. The city was rebuilt, but twenty years later it was attacked, and razed to the ground again by the notorious Albanian warlord, Ali Pashë of Tepelena in 1789. After this the town never recovered its former glory and folks moved away to Korce and Berat, or farther afield into Bulgaria and Romania. It received additional damage during World Wars I & II. The final blow came in 1960 when a massive earthquake leveled many of the centuries-old churches, leaving only 5 standing in various states of disrepair. Today, the surviving churches are listed on the World Monuments Fund’s Watch List of 100 Most Endangered Sites. Only 600 year-round residents live in Voskopoja now, but this hidden gem is slowly being rediscovered and recognized as an interesting tourist destination for its many cultural and outdoor activities.

We drove back towards Korce under clearing storm clouds which dramatically revealed freshly snowcapped mountains dappled in sunlight. Situated in a wide fertile valley surrounded by the Morava mountains, Korce and the lands surrounding it were once the property of a feudal family in medieval times. Like Voskopoja, it benefited from trading with the caravans that trekked across routes to Thessaloniki in Greece, Istanbul and Southern Russia.

Traces of this industrious past can still be found along the cobbled lanes in the town’s colorful, old bazaar section, where deep-rooted merchants and craftsmen now share the lanes with cafes and chic shops.

A short walk away is Albania’s second oldest mosque, the Iljaz Mirahori. It’s named after the founder of Korce, and dates from 1496. Its original minaret was taken down during the communist era and not rebuilt until 2014.

The wide pedestrian mall, Bulevardi Shen Gjergji, which runs through the center of the city, along with the town’s many parks, helped Korce earn the moniker as “the Paris of Albania,” after the city was occupied by French troops during World War I.

With French support the local region existed briefly as the Republic of Korçë, from 1916-1920. In 1887, Mësonjëtorja, or the Albanian School, opened its doors to students on Bulevardi Shen Gjergji and taught students the Albanian language. This was a milestone in the Albanian National Awakening movement of the late 1800’s because until then giving lessons in the Albanian language was done in secret since Turkish was the official language under Ottoman rule.

Across from the pedestrian mall the Katedralja Ortodokse “Ringjallja e Krishtit,” aka, the Orthodox Cathedral “Resurrection of Christ,” grandly commands a plaza. Constructed in 1995, in Byzantine Revival-style, it is the largest orthodox church in Albania and replaces the St. John Church, which Albania’s former communist regime destroyed in 1968. It has a splendid interior covered with vibrantly new, orthodox religious imagery.

Anchoring the far end of the plaza, like a lighthouse on the ocean, is a modern seven-story skyscraper, the Sky View Hotel. It is the tallest building in Korce, and its architecture is very incongruous with the rest of the city, but that difference makes it very refreshing, and symbolizes Korce’s progressive future. It also had the best vantage points from its top floor restaurant, and our room, for taking pictures of the church and the surrounding snowcapped mountains. During our stay there we were surprised to learn that we were the hotel’s only guests on a Sunday and Monday in late April. Our room was very comfortable, and we enjoyed our stay. Additionally, it was very budget friendly, free parking was available on the street, and the staff was very nice.

The next morning, we drove into the foothills above Korce to the small village of Mborja. It took only 8 minutes to get there, but when we entered the Church of St. Mary it seemed like every minute of travel time transported us back a century. There is not a definitive record of when the Church of St. Mary was built, but it’s believed the small church was first constructed in 896 to honor Pope Clement I, and is the oldest Orthodox church in Albania. Later renovations were added in the 14th century.

We had entered the small, fenced yard that surrounds the church only to find its door locked tight. Luckily, two local women were walking by and acknowledged our dilemma with that global twist of the wrist, as if opening a door with a key. They motioned for us to wait and then headed downhill to the small produce shop we had just driven by. A few minutes later the guardian appeared. An elderly gentleman, he silently unlocked the door for us and invited us in. It was a small space, made even smaller by a solid stone wall with a half door in it which led to the altar.

It was difficult to bend so low, but I crouched down and entered. Donna followed. Whack! Ouch! “What happened?” “I cracked my skull on the door jamb!”  Sympathetic to her injury, I tried to comfort her and divert her attention. “Babes, that was the kiss of God.” “Really!” “Yes, it’s in recognition for those twenty-four years of devoted service as a Methodist minister.” “Go away.” “Remember the Lord does work in mysterious ways.” A gentle elbow to my gut silenced me. Low doors were a common design feature of ancient churches built in areas prone to conflict.

The feature was used to prevent an invader from entering the sanctuary on horseback and defiling it. The compact interior was dark, but there was just enough light to see iconography on all the walls and the dome. The frescoes in the church are believed to be from the late 1300’s, and are in remarkably good condition, but the painter is unknown. The church is also an Orthodox pilgrimage site on Christ’s Ascension Day.

It was still well before noon when we reached to Kryqi Moravë, the Morovian Cross, which dramatically commands a mountain ridge above Korce. We had spotted it from miles away the other day as a ray of light caught it just right through clearing clouds. The parking area for it was only a 15 minute drive from Mborja. But the steep climb to the large cross and small chapel of Saint Elias on the ridge top took another 20 minutes.

The panoramic views over Korce, its valley, and the freshly snowcapped mountains were fantastic. You could literally see for miles all around. Back at the parking area we warmed ourselves with delicious cappuccinos at the Restaurant La Montagna. It’s a popular spot for folks to eat after spending a day hiking in the mountains.

On the way back downhill, we stopped at the Martyrs’ Cemetery on the hillside above Korce. It’s a beautiful location high above the city. The slope is lined with the simple graves of Albanian partisans who fought around Korce in WWII for the liberation of the country from German occupation. All the graves face west toward the setting sun. Many of the gravestones only contain a first or last name, and the year of death, the fighter’s year of birth unknown.

At the foot of the cemetery a monumental communist-era statue of a resistance fighter, with arm raised and fist clenched, stands victoriously over the city. It’s a powerful reminder of the ultimate price the partisans paid for what they thought would be a better future. These propagandistic communist statues can be found all around Albania and portrayed the communists as liberators, not the oppressors they truly were, who sent any political opposition to forced labor camps on trumped up charges of treason, and shot citizens who tried to escape the hardships of the regime for a better life elsewhere. It’s possible to walk from the city to the cemetery up a long stairway that starts at the top of Rruga Sotir Mero. Though the better way is to take a taxi up and walk down the stairway.

On the way back into the city for lunch in the old bazaar, we passed the Birra Korca. It’s Albania’s oldest brewery, capping its first bottles in 1928, and miraculously survived the communist decades as a state-owned business, though they ignored the old adage, “We know God loves us because he gave us beer.” The brewery and the city also host an annual Korca Beer Festival every August. It’s a week-long, city-wide event that draws thousands of folks to Korce.

In the old bazaar we sat outside at Taverna *Pazari i Vjeter* in a warm afternoon sun, and ordered, of course, two Korca beers, and some traditional dishes. Afterwards the waiter brought us Shahine plums. They are small sour green plums served as a digestive, and they were very tasty, much like a green apple. It was the first and only time they were offered to us in Albania, but if you have a chance to try them, go for it.

Till next time, Craig & Donna