Crushin' It in Krujë

The next day we woke to the heat of late-August Albanian sunlight and the clamor of a hundred backpackers packing up and shipping out. We devoured our free toast, jam, and instant coffee with minimal complaints and after drinking real coffees we purchased at the bar, we hit the road. We still had about 4 hours of driving and we were determined to wring one more Albanian city out of our trip before heading to the airport: Krujë.

We couldn't resist stopping here to capture a few more shots of the seaside mountains. What I wouldn't have given for one more day, to sit around and just soak this in. Alas. It was at this stop that we thought to document our valiant chariot. Behold, the Opel Corsa:

Just a lovely country lane. Also a national highway.

Passing Fier, making progress, taking in some Albanian hotties.

Finally, in early afternoon we found ourselves in Krujë. We made it! Our timing was good! We even had time to wander through the famous-for-its-souvenirs bazaar in the town. We parked the Corsa facing downhill, wondered briefly if that was a bad idea, put on the parking brake (an absolute necessity in the Balkans), and headed off to shop.

The Krujë castle in the distance. After we'd done our part for the local economy we headed back to the car, ready to make our way to the airport. Once again we hadn't sent our postcards but otherwise we'd done almost everything we had set out to do in Albania and we were feeling pretty good about life. And then: disaster. Or: almost disaster. I'll let the email I sent my parents relate the harrowing tale,

I have one story to tell you guys I want to get down before I forget... Jo and I went to the town of Kruja, where the national hero Skanderbeg was born [edit: not true, and I don't know why I was laboring under this impression] and where there is a very impressive bazaar full of souvenir goodies, and when we parked we did so facing downward on a hill behind a pretty nice-looking Mercedes. We realized our mistake as soon as Jo pulled in behind it and we took a minute to wonder if we should move the car then but decided instead to go to the market with the hope that the car would move by the time we got back. 

It didn't so when we returned and Jo tried to reverse away from the car we found that our little hatchback's engine just didn't have what it took and we were rolling closer and closer forward, toward the car. We didn't know what to do so we thought maybe if we let it slide as gently as it could into the Mercedes we might be able stabilize enough to back away and so with a VERY upsetting crack, Jo let it roll into the back of the Mercedes (I was outside trying to give her an idea of how close she was). Thankfully both of our bumpers were plastic so there was no damage but we were pretty distraught to find that even resting against the other car the Corsa just couldn't get back up the hill in reverse. So we both stood there, kind of devastated and at a loss, until an old man who had been walking by and had turned to see where the noise of our collision came from, walked back around and very calmly picked up a big rock from the side of the road and put it in front of our front wheel. So simple. In retrospect, so obvious. But so completely crucial in getting us out of that bind. And so Jo was able to back the car up, let it rest on the rock, back it up, rest on the rock, until Jo could pull it out from behind the Mercedes.... 

For both of us it was just a very memorable thing because this old man who had no stake in our fates showed us such a simple but completely life-saving trick that got us out of a mess. We had several encounters kind of like that. People who didn't need to helping us in ways that completely saved the day.

This is why I'm gonna go back to the Balkans. This is why I'm not done with Eastern Europe, and it's not done with me.

We made one more terrible mistake that day: we returned our car to Hertz, which was in walking distance of the tiny airport, before we mailed our postcards. We realized our mistake when we got inside said airport, where I think it was totally reasonable to expect there to be a post office, only to find that not the case. We flirted with the idea of one or both of us tempting fate some more and taking the bus back into Tiranë to mail them, but we realized we'd probably just about used up that day's portion of luck. That didn't stop us from feeling a little bitter about our mistake, though, especially when the airport taunted us thusly:

It sure did have some fancy chandeliers, though. 

So we settled in to one of the three cafes and ordered some mediocre sandwiches and whiled away our remaining hours in one of the most frustrating, beautiful, HOT, and incredibly generous places I have ever traveled to. Soon enough our flight appeared on the board and we headed towards the security check. I can't speak for Jo, but for myself, I felt that the trip was winding down and that surely our adventure in Krujë had been our last. Milan had other plans.