While the scenery is fantastic, there are two things to point out. Firstly, there are loads of old WW2 bunkers on the hillsides which were so good that the Albanians can't now blow them up themselves to get rid of them. A lot of them now provide shelter for the homeless or have more unusual uses (often with novelty paint jobs too). Secondly, the roadsides are strewn with a never ending supply of litter which spoils the countryside a bit and ensures that it only looks good from a distance.
On arriving in Berat, I strolled up the maze of cobbled narrow alleys with whitewashed walls and booked into the Backpackers Hostel. It is a friendly place seemingly run by an endless supply of staff. The hostel was pretty full for the time of year and we had a lot of fun learning how to play pool with the local Albanian rules - much better than the UK version.
From the hostel, you cross into town by the old Stone Bridge over the river which stretches off towards imposing Mt Tomorri on one side and a few other hills on the other. The main old town is set on a hill and the similar white-washed houses have led to the place being known as the "town of a thousand windows". It looks even better when lit up at night. Halfway up the hill is the excellent Ethnography Museum set out as an old marketplace in the downstairs and a wealthy landowners house upstairs.
At the top of the hill lies the town's Kalasa Citadel. There are still over 200 houses within the ancient walls which are still inhabited and a few churches, chapels and mosques are dotted around for good measure. The old basilica is worth a look as long as you don't mind a risky climb down the health-and-safety-nightmare steps and there are plenty of great viewpoints over the city, mountains and farmland valleys too if you can clamber over enough ledges to see.
In the centre of the city is a big square and here stands a statue of iconic resistance leader Skanderbeg (complete with goat horns). The square is currently undergoing drastic redevelopment but the likes of the clock tower, Et'hem Bey Mosque (I think whoever named it was just clearing their throat), and a few other bits and pieces of note are still there to wander round. Also, by getting off the beaten track and into the real city, you can find all sorts of great little markets, cafes and bars where the elderly locals sit in their suit jackets, smoke, drink and play board games.
Tirana has one wonderful curiousity though which I found facinating. In a big ring around the city where the concrete buildings are a bit of an eye-sore and the cost to replace them was presumably too high, there has been a novel cover-up solution - paint. Lots of paint. In the city (and adopted in some other parts of Albania I am led to believe) the old tower blocks have been re-painted in bright colours and cosmic patterns. These range from bright block colours, to rainbow stripes, multicoloured checkerboard, and even an trippy pink and green "@" sign which makes me shudder just thinking about it. There is even one building painted to look like it has washing hanging under the windows.
Before leaving the capital, I made a bit of an unwanted discovery and found that an Albanian ATM had cloned my credit card and somebody in Sri Lanka was going crazy with it to the cost of £1300 and counting. The result was that I was left frustrated and nervous as I drove on towards Kosovo with backpacking Belgian photographer Frederik, who I had met at the hostel, tagging along for the ride. The new road though is superb and I was soon forgetting all my worries for the time being. Instead, the dramatic scenery is a final reminder that when Albania is good, it's very good.
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