Sarande, Albania

 Forgotten by Albanians, forgotten by Greeks.

After crossing half of Greece, drive parallel to bleak lakes, green mountains, little towns and ports, you cross the Greek border and you head towards Northern Epirus, a historical region of Epirus in the Western Balkans. Next stop is the Albanian border where a gigantic red flag with a black double headed eagle, a symbol originating in the bronze age. Bare mountains crowned by huge white clouds welcome you and you soon realize that although Greece is only a few minutes drive, it has little to do with it.

Trashy, cheap constructions, rubles of earth mixed with garbage, and the Adriatic Sea co-existing on a small piece of land surrounded by hills. A summer's haven and a winter's purgatory, it demonstrates what exactly this place is: neglected. The buildings deteriorate faster than the people's health who cough their way to the promenade in search for their spot under the sun. The streets and the sidewalks show evident signs of what appears to be one of the main causes of this rapid deterioration: humidity. Everything is constantly wet, but unlike Volos that had a crisp and frigid dampness, here, a thin layer of warm mist covers the hills and dissolves at ground level.

The people's apparel matches the constructions: utilitarian and tattered. Unbranded polyester pieces of clothing made in China, sold at little shops that offer everything a Sarandian needs: clothes for the wife, clothes for the husband, clothes for the children and clothes for the grandparents. Cheap cigarettes, Turkish coffee with a nutty flavor but the undertaste of burned beans, carriages with babies pushed by teenage mothers, men walking with their legs spread like cowboys in a spaghetti western movie, and old women just wandering hurriedly along with their besties. 

Luxury Mercedes and BMW share the roads with their older and rustier cousins. Mercedes from the 90's signify that this middle-aged Albanian driver traveled abroad during the economic recession, managed to make some money quickly, and return home with this clunker. This though, isn't your usual clunker. It's a statement car, a symbol of wealth at a time of economic fallout. 

My thoughts about this place are that it is inevitable to progress, especially since it has been in the radar of foreign tourists who flock during the summer vacation from all over the world like migrating geese. It will become a modern beach town, but the people are most likely to maintain their strong family ties and traditions. In a fast-paced society, it is always beautiful and nostalgic to have Sarande with its slow pace of life.

I have forgotten to mention that I've made a friend here. Friends come in all shapes and some of them might even be covered with soft fur and instead of a handshake they might rub their little head on your hand or instead of a 'Hi!' they might purr softly. My little friend is a black and white kitten with an enormous appetite and a friendly demeanor. It's still a thin little kitten and my hopes are to give it plenty of love and food, so it will have more chances of becoming a healthy and strong cat.