The Albanian Riviera

After over a year of worry and increasingly difficult driving, we had finally had a definitive diagnosis of BigMog’s problem, organised a new clutch to be driven across Europe from the UK and had it fitted by Mercedes in Albania.

We were 100% sure that we needed the new clutch. We had been about 60% sure that there wasn’t another, underlying problem with the gearbox itself. But as we drove out of the dealership everything seemed perfect, the gear changes were smooth and BigMog felt as though he was back to full health.

But it was not to last. The next morning, as we were preparing to set sail for the coast, all was not good. The gear changes were back to being clunky, possibly even worse than before. Our hearts sank and we headed straight back to Mercedes.

It was Saturday morning so they were short staffed but took him into the workshop with concerned looks on their faces and returned half an hour later with big smiles. The clutch pedal had been set too low so the clutch could not disengage the engine properly. They had now raised it and all was fine.

James was not convinced it was that easy. Why had it been so good the evening before and now it was too low. They just shrugged and said it was all fine now.

We were in two minds what to do. We had spent far too much time sitting around Tirane already but was it too much of a risk to head south so far away from the city? In the end our need to get away won out and we set off for the beach.

We drove 215km that day and whilst things were not perfect they were much better than they had been. Two days later, however, things were worse than ever and at one point we even had to stop in the middle of the road unable to get into any gear at all.

Twice James raised the clutch pedal a little higher, improving things significantly but only temporarily. Before long we were back to square one.

Initially we were very down about it all and were convinced that the disintegrating clutch had been a second problem leaving us with the original problem still there – and it could not only be the gearbox itself.

But after James raised the clutch pedal the second time I asked him a question – if it was the gearbox that was causing the problem, would adjusting the clutch pedal have any effect? No, he said and smiled for the first time in a while. That was fairly conclusive, this was still a clutch problem.

Whether the clutch needs bleeding again, or there is a small leak in the hose between the master cylinder and the clutch or the clutch booster has gone – it could be a small problem or a slightly larger problem. But it was not a new gearbox problem.

We have still not got to the bottom of it, we didn’t have time for any more investigations before we flew to the UK for our holiday. But we are optimistic that the worst is over and with just one more push BigMog will be back to his former glory.

So let’s put all that behind us for now and get back to our travels. I am about as fed-up writing about clutches as we were worrying about them at the time. And let’s face it, there are very few places as beautiful as the Albanian Riviera so the next few days of our journey deserve some proper blog time.

Our first stop was St Mary’s Monastery, perched on an island in the Narta Lagoon with a wooden bridge stretching across over the water

We had driven through lovely pine forests to get there and it felt good to finally be out in the countryside again

It was only a small monastery, built in the 13^th century

But it was pretty

After a quick visit we headed to the beach and tried to find somewhere to park-up for the rest of the day. Our first attempt was full of other motorhomes but the second was more successful

We parked under the trees looking out over the beach and the sea beyond.

It was a strange place

The Riviera proper doesn’t start until further south so we hadn’t been expecting to see the best of it yet, but it still seemed odd to find the place so deserted at the end of May with rubbish lying around and the deck chairs and sun loungers in disrepair

Of course, as ever, it all depended on which way you pointed your camera!

Further down the coast was the town of Orikum. This felt a bit more like a seaside town but still quiet and a bit run down

The main event here, however, was the Orikum Archaeological Park with its ancient Greek, Roman and Illyrian ruins

We wandered around the site for a while soaking in the fresh sea air and enjoying the relaxed calm of the place

But I have to be honest and say that the best part of the visit was the fact that the ruins are inside a military base. We had had to buy our ticket outside the compound, hand our passports in to the soldiers and have a military escort through the base to the site.

We were allowed to drive back on our own but with strict instructions not to go anywhere other than straight back to the gate

We drove along the narrow road with unusual sea breakers on one side

And wondered what would happen if we broke the rules!

Back in the town, we found ourselves a parking spot on the roadside along the beach and settled in for the afternoon listening to the sounds of the sea and watching the waves gently breaking on the sand

We were a short drive from the start of the Llogora Pass, generally considered to be the gateway into the real Riviera. It is a long, serpentine road switching back and forth down the mountainside with spectacular views on both sides. Some people say that it’s not for the faint hearted – which was a concern with BigMog still not entirely well – but others say it is simply a lovely road to drive.

Fed-up of missing out on things just because of our gearbox, we decided to take the risk. And we were so glad we did. It was a beautiful drive with no dramas at all – except the drama of the natural world which beats any other sort

The stunningly blue sea and the bleached white sands of the coast were laid out in front of us as we wound our way gently downhill

Half way down, perched on the cliff right on one of the tightest switchbacks, we came across what was known as ‘Big Bunker’, yet another of Enver Hoxha’s creations

There was a handy place to pull in although I’m not sure many vehicles would be quite so comfortable at that angle

The bunker itself was interesting, the graffiti was quirky

But we couldn’t go inside because the smell of human waste was overwhelming

We satisfied ourselves with the spectacular views

Then headed the rest of the way down to find a place to call home on the beach

It was surprisingly difficult to find a quiet and pretty spot as there was so much construction work going on and the ubiquitous litter was strewn everywhere along the sand

But with the mountains behind us

And the sea in front of us

We were happy enough with our choice and settled in for the day

James had a quick swim in the cold sea whilst I paddled around him but other than that we did very little

And we spent our next few days doing pretty much the same. We drove south from beach to beach, sometimes staying on a large beach front

Other times by a small, secluded cove

Everywhere we went we got lots of attention and smiles, everyone loves BigMog.

We were especially pleased at how much people love beautiful UniMogs when we stayed at tiny Guma beach, taking up almost the entire beach front

If we had been a normal motorhome we would not have been anyone’s favourite visitors but as it was the few other people sun bathing just smiled with fascinated admiration

Aquarium beach is very close to Guma beach but not accessible by vehicle so I wandered up to see it whilst we were there. The whole place was just gorgeous

Some of the beaches are easily accessible at this time of year, especially the main beaches in front of the towns. But some were down long, narrow roads with small passing places which would be a nightmare in the peak season.

From what we had read and seen, we had made a very good decision not to try and do this trip in the summer months. Our days were quiet and relaxing with just a few other cars and motorhomes to contend with and only some very brave souls sunbathing on beaches that were warm only when the sun was out and swimming in seas that were still bitterly cold

It was not all perfection in May though. Whilst the views were lovely, there was a definite feeling that the whole coast was somewhat desolate, run down and dirty

And the construction works that are everywhere around the country are on an even bigger scale here

In fact it seemed as though the whole coastline was one big building site.

There are some who say that Albania is trying to get all its construction work done before 2030 so that they can avoid the strict EU building regulations. Or maybe they are just getting themselves ready for an even bigger influx of tourists.

Whatever the future holds for this country, we may not have made it here in time to see it’s truly authentic past but we very pleased to have had at least a glimpse of how it might have once been.

There are three main coastal resort towns along the Riviera – Himare, Sarande and Ksamil. Of the three, Himare retains the most character whilst the other two are full of cruise ships and wealthy young beach lovers. So that’s where we aimed for next.

Himare Old Town was originally founded by the Greeks over 3,000 years ago, the ruins of which sit on top of a cliff overlooking the modern town

We found the walls of the old castle

And St Sergius’ church

With yet more fabulous views over the Adriatic

And the hills behind

Finding somewhere to park up in Himare was rather more difficult than most places as the beaches were not accessible by vehicle and most official camping spots were very expensive.

We eventually managed to find a reasonably priced place in an olive grove just a short walk from the beach

It was safe and pretty but it wasn’t quite the same as being on the beach itself.

We wandered into town to have a poke around

And found a very helpful doctor who gave James a prescription for his foot which was still giving him trouble. We also managed to do some laundry and some shopping but most of the time was spent walking along the beach or sitting in our olive grove reading and dozing.

There was a family of geese in the grove and whilst we idled away our time we watched amused as the two males chased unsuspecting visitors down the road. But it wasn’t quite so funny when I tried to do my training the next morning and got on their wrong side.

And when all the females decided to sit down right behind the truck we were a little concerned as to how we were going to get back our socks and washing line

James tried starting the engine but that only made them move a few feet away. So in the end he marched straight up to them with all the confidence I couldn’t muster and the geese decided he was too scary to mess with – who can blame them?!

Just outside of Himare is a beach which is only accessible by climbing down a rope. I was curious so we drove as close as we could and I walked up the steep road to where the path started

But when I got there it looked very overgrown

I tried to push my way through but less than halfway down I gave up

As I was on my way back I met another couple who told me that the rope had been removed a year ago after someone fell and was killed trying to get down it. I guess that explains why no-one had been down the path for so long.

We carried on driving south away from Himare and passed beach after beach that looked like our worst nightmare – soulless rows of sun loungers and umbrellas. We were trying to find somewhere smaller and quieter and had read about a tiny beach that didn’t even seem to be marked on Google maps.

We found a winding path that seemed to lead in the right direction and drove down it

The path ended in what looked like a small slice of paradise

We were perched on top of a cliff looking down over the perfectly blue, crashing waves

And there was no-one else around

We walked along the rocks until we found an abandoned submarine bunker from the communist era

It must have been very impressive in its day

With a huge door and even bigger hinges

We stood and gazed at it, imagining the old submarines hiding inside from the enemies that Enver Hoxha imagined were all around him

Later in the afternoon we met a couple travelling in a VW campervan and exchanged travel stories

And the next morning quite a few people walked down the path and smiled and took photos of the Mog as they passed

It had been our favourite spot so far and we were reluctant to leave.

But time was ticking on and our departure day was looming. So we continued south to see the castle of Porto Palermo. As we drove we noticed a change in the atmosphere as well as the landscape

It felt a lot less built-up around here and the vegetation was very different. There were still plenty of people around but it felt somehow less touristy – or maybe just a different type of tourist, those less likely to be sun worshipping with cocktails all day

The castle itself was fascinating, apparently an old Ottoman garrison

From the hexagonal, arched central chamber

To the terrace above with views out to the horizon

Further south we found Borsch beach which went on for miles

Again it was hard to find a spot away from the construction works and litter but we finally settled in a pretty good place

And wandered down the road to find somewhere for lunch. Everywhere was closed until we found Juza restaurant which had only opened for the season the day before and could offer us anything on the menu as long as it was fish!

The shrimp salad was lovely and we happily spent the rest of the afternoon and the next day lazing around in the sun

And watching in awe as the setting sun turned the whole sky orange

We only had four days left before our flights but we wanted to make it as far as Sarande before heading back to Tirane so we were up early the next day heading for our final stop

We had hoped to see the Monastery of the 40 Saints high up on one of the hills in the town but the roads were too tight to get BigMog up. So instead we detoured to Lekursi Castle on the other hilltop which was far more accessible

Not really much of a castle though, it seemed to have been converted into a restaurant which was closed

The views over the Ionic Sea towards Corfu were spectacular

It was a short visit and we didn’t have much desire to explore any more of the ‘cruise ship capital’ of Albania, so we satisfied ourselves that we had seen the best of it and set off north again back towards Tirane, watching the gorgeous scenery unfold in front of us

After a long drive we found a quirky park-up place on a hill overlooking the port town of Durres which was covered in litter and had an unnerving smell about it

But it was safe and quiet and we were only a few kilometers outside of the capital

The next morning we steeled our nerves for the chaotic driving in the city and had arrived at our lovely campsite by lunchtime, ready to get ourselves and our truck ready for our four month sabbatical

It was sad to be leaving this beautiful country but we were happy with our decision not to be here over the peak summer months. We would be back soon enough and by then the worst of the heat and the crowds would be gone and we could pick up where we left off. So we put those thoughts behind us and concentrated on the work we had to do before we could leave.

There is a lot to do on an overland truck when you’re going to leave it for such a long time and it took us two days to clean him inside and out, clear the fridge out, shut the toilet down, drain all the water out of the pipes and tanks, switch off the power, pack and sort out exactly what tools and parts we needed to take with us for Henry (our boys are very happy to share)

We even packed Teddy safely into our bags and he was very excited when we told him he would be seeing Henry again!

Eventually we were ready. The morning of our departure came and we drove BigMog up to the garden by the owner’s house where we was to stay whilst we were away. He looked quite comfortable

We said one last goodbye to him and to Dot

And jumped in the waiting taxi to be driven to the airport. We had a few fun and games trying to get our bags through – first they were overweight then we found we had accidentally put sharp tools in our hand luggage but everything got there in the end and four hours later we were touching down at Birmingham airport where my wonderful sister was waiting for us.

We always get excited about our holidays in the UK – seeing family and friends after such a long time is food for the soul. But this time was different, this time there was something else on the horizon. We were to spend four weeks with our family and then another flight was looming – a much longer flight to a much loved place.

I could hardly believe that the time had come, it had been 2 years since we left Henry at the farm and so much had happened since then. My eyes filled with tears every time I thought about it….

Namibia.

Namibia.

Namibia.