The driver meant to pick you up at 9 am from your Guesthouse as you expected; he was 30 minutes late. Although according to like you used to say, “Albanian timing.” he was on time. There is a thing with leaving; it always makes you sad. Mountains showed you a different part of yourself. The part that seems to be more adventurous, more humble, and all other things made you feel like the main character. And now you are sitting on the bus, almost crying because of all of that beauty you are leaving behind.
Back in Shkoder. Another bus, welcome in Tirana. Another bus and here you are in the city which taste slightly bitter and slightly sweet. There is something somewhat idiotic about your choice of accommodation. It always has to be on the highest point of the city, and this time you are even above the castle which is above 557 meters above sea level.
Krujë is just about 20 km far from Tirana and played a considerable part in Albanian history. In 1190 Krujë became the capital of the Kingdom of Albania. At the begging of the 15th century, Krujë was conquered by the Ottoman Empire. And here comes the national hero Skanderbeg, leader of the League of Lezhë, who successfully defended the city against three Ottoman sieges until he died in 1468. If you want to find out more about Skanderbeg and his battles, I will encourage you to watch some documentaries or films on youtube. There are plenty of them in English.
You are walking through the old town up to the hill to your hotel. A handsome young man is standing just on the top, asking you how your journey was and leading you inside. First, as a sign of Albanian hospitality, he offers you a shot of homemade Raki (alcohol made from grapes); after that, he takes you to your room and leaves you alone.
What a nice guy, though, and what is it that Krujë produces such handsome men. CALM DOWN Katerina! You are not here because of the guys; you are here to explore. So after a quick shower and legs shaving, you are ready to leave for a stroll around the city. The streets and local cafés are full of people, more specifically men of all age groups. It´s hard to see a woman sitting there, and if you see one, she is probably a tourist. Women are, on the other hand, in the supermarket carrying shopping bags. With all of the respect towards Albanian people, those things just drive me crazy as a woman; I just can´t take any kind of oppression. And perhaps this toxic masculinity pattern gave a little bit of shadow over my experience with Albania. The reality of the daily life of women was once my own reality, and despite all of the love and respect from both sides, this was something I couldn’t tolerate.
On your way back, the guy approaches you asking you how you like Albania so far, where you have already been, and where you are going next. After that, he leads you into the local mosque and explains everything about Albanian Muslims. The mosque is a tiny room in the cave. There isn’t more place than for two people at a time. The same guy will ask you for a glass of wine after dinner. The same guy will kiss you that night, tell you that you look like an angel (yeah, kind of lame), but somehow, it was everything you needed that night.
When the night is finally over, and you are sipping coffee with the view of the city where once your ex man was born. You finally understood why it wasn’t meant to be. After breakfast, you pack your stuff and leave. Next stop, Ksamil.
