Northern Albania with two kids and two backpacks

Last Australian winter, my family and I visited Albania for the first time. If you followed our updates on Instagram, you’ll know we had the experience of a lifetime there. A country so misunderstood by its neighbours, it has such a fascinating, layered history largely due to its particularly brutal dictator lead communist past but also its amicable existence of eastern and western religions. Its people we found to be generous, proud and welcoming.

One of the big highlights was our visit to northern Albania – Theth, in the Accursed Mountains, and Lake Koman. We hired a driver, Armand, and guide, Ervin, great guys who we will never forget.

Armand and Diamond chatted in Greek like old friends for hours in the car. Armand had spent many years working in Greece following the collapse of Albania’s communist regime in the 1990s. He, like many Albanians at the time, fled to Greece to find work and speaks of Greece almost as lovingly and passionately as a native born Greek.. which is a lot.

We spent a night staying with an older couple, Mark and Prenda, at their small farm on the shores of Lake Koman. The valley was dammed in the late 1970s for water supply, flooding all the traditional villages below and geographically isolating those who relocated up to the new banks of the lake. It feels a little as though time has been frozen in this area. All transport is by boat. Mark is a retired ferry boat builder – his boats still operate on the lake. Time seemed to pause and every minute in this place, the four of us were completely entranced by the life the people lead here.

Berishe, Lake Koman.
Haystacks, woodpile and livestock at Mark and Prenda’s farm in Berishe, Lake Koman

In Albania, like many parts of this region of Europe, women are typically harder working than the men. I watched Prenda, 70 something, work non stop, while her husband sat and enjoyed cigarettes, his flip phone and the occasional drink she served him. Prenda tended to their enormous vegetable garden (semi-commercial sized by our standards), the goats, the pigs, the chooks and the cattle. I also found donkeys further up the hill. She made cheese, dried beans, weeded the garden, shooed the goats who kept eating the grapes, picked produce and cleaned the home. And these were just the jobs I *saw* her do. She worked until well after dusk, and was up at dawn the next morning. Her skinny frame was stiff and muscly.

The women and men of Lake Koman are handsome, tough, proud, no fuss people. Life is still culturally very traditional. We were told a story about wedlock that helped us understand this area.

A young man from high up the mountain wanted to marry a girl who lived close to the water. The man’s family had no water spring and all water needed to be carried uphill on foot from the lake – very hard work. The man asked the girl’s parents for permission to marry her. The mother spoke ‘out of turn’ and refused his request – she wouldn’t have her daughter living that way, carrying water uphill all her life. The father was angered that his wife spoke out of turn and committed his daughter to the marriage to punish his wife!

Prenda briefly talks on her flip phone while she continues to work – weeding and tilling the vegetable garden. This was the only time I saw her not completely focussed on her work!
Prenda feeding the pigs. The pigs were very unfriendly.
Prenda working in the giant vegetable garden. She used a hand made woven basket with simple shoulder straps for collecting weeds.
Prenda making cheese on a wood fired stove; onions drying.
Sifting flour, from her own grain as I understood. Everything was grown from scratch here.

I felt intrusive photographing Prenda – watching a 70+ year old woman work so incredibly hard. Perhaps my photographs might engender empathy from you, the reader, for the hard life these people live in a country with still very little. These women work hard with earnest, sharing much the same values as their neighbouring countries. Or perhaps the images simply remind us to be more grateful for our easy life in the developed world.

Following Prenda around was also a great insight for me into the life my mother-in-law was born into, in a small village of Greece. Finally I could fully appreciate the hard life Maria left behind when she left for Australia – making bread from their own grain, making cheese from their own sheep’s milk, hand making filo pastry, walking to the icy cold river year round to wash clothes and nappies (at as young as five, with no shoes), and so on. I eagerly showed Maria these images and chatted about it with her. Yes, of course, this is the life she had, she agreed matter of factly. How different Maria’s Australian suburban life is now compared to Prenda’s, both aged about 70.

Grain to be fed to the animals, grown on the property. This image felt to me to sum up this region.. symbolising the simple life lived with few things. The house always tidy, no matter the amount of work done outside.
Goats in the barn, shared with the chickens and pigs.
Our kids’ antics while Mark and Prenda look on, part bemused, part concerned..
The kids spent almost the whole time playing with the cat and her kitten
Duelling cats.
Dusk and Diamond, in the simple courtyard.
Waiting for dinner in the family dining/lounge room. I love the feeling of uncertainty on our kids’ faces here, in a room so foreign to us all.
Waking up at dawn in shared room in the family home. There were about 6 beds squeezed into this simple room.
Mark, the charming man of the house. While Prenda worked, he showed us around the property. He wanted a photo with Charlie and coaxed him with the coins I had found on the shore earlier.. instead of keeping them like I insisted, he gave them to Charlie. Moments of generosity like this weren’t at all uncommon.
Mark taking me for a spin to the other side of the cove.
Mark, on the ‘bus boat’ ferry he built decades before: nicknamed so because he actually welded a bus onto a boat. The interior is still the original bus interior, with a ship’s wheel screwed onto the shaft of the bus’ steering wheel!
His son now captains it for a living, ferrying residents and intrepid tourists up and down the lake.
Who needs guard rails on the front of a boat?! It did help us enjoy the stunning views of the dramatic gorges. (Admittedly, I always feel an odd sense of comfort in the lack of safety precautions when travelling in lesser developed countries.)
Man at ferry stop store, Fierza. The men of northern Albania so commonly look like this man, so handsome! When I asked to take his photo, he ‘posed’ by looking away into the distance – so many older people do this in this area for photographs. I got lucky and he briefly turned for this frame.

We were sorry to see our adventure to Lake Koman end. During our travels north we had detoured briefly into Prizren, Kosovo.

As we were entering Albania again from Kosovo, this border guard caught my eye. He had an intensity about him. I snapped this from the hip then we both proceeded in this dance of pretending neither had noticed one another.. I tried to get another picture of him off guard.. He became more intense and leaned out onto the handrail in an intimidating way.. that also made him more interesting. I kept pretending not to notice.

Finally he approached Amand, our driver, and rattled off something curt in Albanian. Armand cracked up. The guard thought I was an anti corruption official taking photos. Armand told him we were tourists. All the guards cracked up and joked he’s too ugly to be photographed, he should be back in his office. Later I noticed the poster beside him in the image. Now I want to know why he was so paranoid.

We travelled on to Theth, farther north in the Accursed Mountains.

Diamond taking a moment to pause after a 5 hour long road trip from Albania’s capital, Tirane, via Prizren, Kosovo, and finally to Theth. A small village in the Accursed Mountains. The kids didn’t share his lull in energy, clearly.

Outside, around Theth, the beech forests with mossy forest floor were like a fairytale. The area has been discovered and many backpackers are flocking to this remote area.

The stunning valley around Theth, Accursed Mountains, northern Albania.
The small mountain village of Theth.
Ella eating plums.
Charlie in the beech forest, Theth.
Hand stacked haystacks and charming rickety picket fences.
A simple and charming hostel. Inside was a simple shared bathroom – right beside the entrance to it was a 1.5m drop, where the stairs to the ground floor had never been built.
Kids fight over possession of sticks no matter where you are in the world. (In all fairness they fought very little and enjoyed each other’s company a lot!).
In the background: brutal communist architecture could be found even in this remote, mountainous area.
When you go on a hike without a proper camera, you’re bound to see something stunning. Gorgeous jigsaw like scenes – while I hustled to keep pace with Ervin.
And this, again with no proper camera.. Beautiful beech forests near Theth, morning sun rising.
Cleaner and washer woman.
We left northern Albania on a bus for the capital, Tirane. Fittingly, this woman sat behind me – she symbolised so much of the culture and people we had witnessed. Every time her smart phone rang (yes she actually had one), she shoved it forwards to have me swipe ‘answer’ for her. I was smitten with her and she accepted my request (made in charades) to take her portrait between our seats.
Somehow, across the cultural and language divide, we connected and she let me right in.

Albania left a very deep impression on us, we feel forever changed for having visited. We are so thankful to Armand and Ervin, who shared northern Albania with us so honestly and vulnerably. Every older adult Albanian has terrible stories to share of its brutal past, though the pride these people have of their heritage is utterly infectious. It is a country still steeped in dire political problems, with its economy is slowly opening up to the world. However its people are eager to share their love of their country with visitors. I will be writing more about our visit.. stay tuned..

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