Albania, You Had Me at "Huh."🇦🇱
I’m finally ready to write about our journey to Albania and all that that entailed. Honestly it felt like we landed pretty hard and I had to take a moment.
While our particular visas are processing, we would need to leave the Schengen Area, which encompasses much of Europe. The list of countries outside the Schengen Area is quite extensive, but the ones we would realistically consider took some thought. Eventually, for technical reasons that would entail a big old boring explanation, we chose Albania. The fun reasons were: It is a country that is gaining traction for visiting – there are so many beautiful and picturesque locations in this country! We wanted to see it before it became too “touristy”. We loved the fact that it was a country we might never have chosen initially, and while Ireland was tempting, we knew we would go there another time. Albania – not so much. So we booked our tickets and packed our bags.
Our last day on the Costa Blanca It was truly this beautiful always Found our Happy Place in Calpe, Spain Thank you Calpe!
It was bittersweet leaving our apartment in Calpe. We are retaining it so that we have a place to come back to – that feels welcoming somehow and like a personal relationship we made is awaiting our return.
We had never flown Air Serbia previously. The fact that this paragraph is starting with that sentence should tell you the direction this is going. Our tickets went from Valencia, Spain to Belgrade, Serbia and then after a quick flight change, Belgrade to Tirana, Albania. Wizz Air flies direct, but they don’t accept pets onboard. So there we were on our Air Serbia flights. We were served a sandwich on the flight from Valencia to Belgrade, which was impressive being as it’s only a 2 hour and 40 minute flight and we landed around noon. We could have been made responsible for our own lunch at the airport, but we got the choice of “salty or sweet” in the form of a snack, and then “chicken or beef” by way of our sandwich choice. It was the worst sandwich of my life but I was thankful for the offer, nonetheless.
That’s where my good impression of Air Serbia ended. We went to baggage claim and boom – there was Devante’s blue suitcase. Boom – there was my cream colored suitcase. We waited some more, and a bit more until it was obvious there were no more suitcases coming down the belt. Poor Bri stood there, her suitcase nowhere to be found. Immediately we went to the baggage window and reported it missing. The gentleman there took our information and the necessary descriptors for the suitcase. This was Thursday afternoon, around 3pm, or 15:00 if you will. We had no choice but to get our taxi, and head to Durrës and our apartment. We all felt that missing suitcase in our hearts. You know - a person’s identity is in their suitcase. It didn’t feel nice not to have it. But we carried on and arrived at our place with our American “pull yourself up by the bootstrap” mentality. More on Air Serbia later.
I hadn’t even really paid much attention to our surroundings, as the whole ride I was chit chatting with Bri to keep her spirits up, and marveling at the speed of traffic. When we were dropped off at our place, it was then that I got a good look at my surroundings. “Huh.” I thought to myself. “Huh.”
Durrës did not make a particularly beautiful first impression. At least, not in the way I'd grown accustomed to beauty in Spain. There was something stark and unapologetically utilitarian about it. Concrete apartment buildings stood alongside newer construction. There were uneven streets, tangled infrastructure, and buildings that seemed to have been started and then forgotten. There was an architectural starkness to it, a lingering reminder of Albania's communist past. There was a sense that the city was still finding its footing between what it had been and what it was becoming.
The city had none of the polished Mediterranean charm I'd just left behind in Calpe, where I'd grown accustomed to beautiful beaches, well-maintained streets, and picturesque surroundings. Durrës was a little chaotic, rough around the edges, and clearly still developing. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it yet.
Our apartment building was no exception, as it had a rather bleak looking entrance. No concierge, no happy plants or fountains or beautiful doorways... just a hallway with peeling paint and a dim light on a motion detector that went out after 10 seconds. On, off, on, off... We were on the 4th floor, and we were glad to see there was an elevator. But no matter how many times we pressed the call button, nothing happened. We eventually gave up and hauled our heavy suitcases, along with Paco in his stroller, up four floors of stairs, with two flights per floor. We were tired, hungry and out of sorts as we entered what would be our home for the next 2.5 months or so.
Although the building looked kind of scary, the apartment itself was really cozy and cute and clean and soft. The walls were a very light taupe and cream, the kitchen looked bright and efficient. The hallway had a place for keys, purses, shoes and coats. The bedrooms were done nicely and had comfortable looking beds. There was a sectional in the living room that was clean and both bathrooms were roomy. We thankfully put our belongings away – well, Devante and I did. Poor Bri had nothing to put away.
We did contact the apartment owner, who showed us how to use the elevator. It was so incredibly easy that we were annoyed at ourselves and our previous attempts. I chalk it up to brain fatigue. We went searching for dinner and found a cute place on the promenade. The beach was only a block away, but you cannot hear it at all because the waters are so calm. I won’t lie – I was a little disappointed as I loved the sound of the waves back in Calpe. This was the Adriatic, not the Mediterranean, and by name alone I felt that it would be full of dramatic sounding waves crashing upon the beach.
Dinner was delicious and much needed, and it lifted our spirits. Our server’s name was Andy, and he was kind and pleasant and welcoming. We ended up being shown some Albanian hospitality in the form of 3 shots of raki brought to our table! Raki is an Albanian spirit usually made from grapes. It is clear and tastes a bit like a fine tequila. It’s quite strong as well, but it goes down easy, which is dangerous. During dinner, we received a phone call from the gentleman at the airport letting us know they had located our missing suitcase, and it would be delivered in the morning! This was great news.
Now that our appetites were satisfied, we went grocery shopping at a little market. It was like being in Spain all over again on our first grocery run, only more difficult because Devante didn’t know the language like he did in Spain. We limped through it, gathering the things we would need for our first day here. I had just gotten used to euros, and now we would have to pay in Albanian currency – lek. Then, we came “home” and went out on the terrace to take in the little city view. The air was cool, and the stars were out. The streets were alive with traffic, pedestrians and unfamiliar noises. We were in Albania! It would have been perfect, if it weren’t for that pesky suitcase.
Friday morning, our first order of business was Bri’s suitcase. We gave it until 10am, and when there was no delivery, we called the airport. The man who answered was gruff, and super unbothered. He had no idea what we were talking about, as he was not the same staff member from the previous evening. He said, “I don’t know where your suitcase is.” Full stop. Nothing after that. Pregnant pause, commence. We asked if he could check with Belgrade where we stopped through and he told us there was nothing in the system and no messages, and again, “I don’t know where it is.” We then asked what we could do and what were the next steps. “You wait,” he said, his tone annoyed as ever. So we hung up, incredulous, and sat there looking at each other. We had told him there were medications in that bag, and it was urgent it was located.
I need to take a minute here and acknowledge what every experienced traveler with medication knows. Never put medication in your checked bag. Never. For this reason. Lesson learned, I assure you.
Devante and I sprang into action. And when I tell you that Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday were spent sleuthing, emailing, and making phone calls, I am not kidding. We spent hours trying to track down that suitcase. I emailed every airport Air Serbia services out of Valencia, thinking her luggage might have accidentally ended up on a different plane. I contacted baggage claim departments, lost and found offices, and every airport supervisor whose email address I could get my hands on. Even ground transportation departments heard from me.
No one was helpful, including the language barriers. The lady at lost and found in Belgrade hung up on me, and I barely had gotten one sentence out! All I got to was, “Hello! We flew through Belgrade yesterday on Air Serbia out of Valencia, and my daughter’s suitcase was lost and it –“ to which she interrupted, “Contact Air Serbia, have a nice day, thank you!” and she hung up on me. This was so frustrating because calling phone numbers in Serbia and Albania connects at what feels like a 25% rate, so getting through to a person was a miracle. This is how things went for us.
Friday afternoon, we walked 40 minutes to the city center in order to purchase some clothes to help Bri get through the next days. Sure, the street we are on is full of markets and shops and coffee places and little bars and interesting businesses, but no proper clothing outside of tourist shirts that say Albania or have soccer team names on them. We found a little mall, where everything was priced and sized in Albanian of course, so I had my phone out to translate. It was overwhelming, but we all put on our best attitudes and purchased a few things that would at least allow her to feel like a human.
We also took a break Saturday night to meet up for dinner and drinks with a group of expats and immigrants from one of our Facebook groups. It was the night we needed. To Bri’s credit, she had a good attitude, despite the occasional watery eyes that betrayed how she was truly feeling without her belongings. She put on a brave face and we went to the meeting place on the promenade. We ended up visiting and laughing and making new friends who are going to invite us to a chili cookout. These groups meet up 2 or 3 times a week, so that if you miss one or two, you can go to another. It was such a way to feel connected here and we all left feeling rejuvenated and ready to re-tackle the suitcase situation.
A table of new friends They kept coming!
On Sunday, Devante did get through to Valencia ground transportation and the man there described her suitcase and even said he was looking right at it. He assured us he would get it on a plane to Tirana that evening, and it should be there the next morning. (Monday)
Monday morning came and went, and after more frustrating conversations that went nowhere, I attacked my computer with renewed vengeance. I sleuthed my way into finding the contact information for the VP of Ground Transportation, whose office was in the UK. I then re-sent my emails to every department I'd contacted, this time including everyone in one massive email and cc'ing the VP. By this time, I had sent out 20 emails.
And not only did Mr. VP receive an email from me, but your girl texted him as well.
(To be fair, his out-of-office reply instructed people to text him if the matter was urgent. Considering there were medications in that suitcase and no one seemed particularly interested in helping us, I felt this qualified as urgent.)
Did he include his phone number in his signature? No. As a mother, was I unstoppable? Yes.
I saw that he actually read my text, and shortly thereafter, her suitcase was on a plane and arrived in Tirana late Monday afternoon. The man at Tirana airport who hadn’t been helpful previously, even sent me a nice text on WhatsApp along with a photo of her suitcase. She had been without her belongings for almost 5 days. It was with thankfulness and a few tears of joy that Bri’s suitcase was picked up and is now sitting in her room, its contents put away neatly in her closets.
If you’re still reading this, I promise to tell you all about Albania in the follow-up to this blog. I felt it was important to sort of strip the experience down to the reality of moving around and the things that aren’t so shiny and perfect and aesthetically pleasing. The possibilities of things going wrong, and how we pull together during those times. You see, we are closer as a family because of the hardships we have experienced abroad. It wasn’t just the lost suitcase, that was just one example I can share with you. There have been other personal things that have been disappointing, unexpected and devastating even. As a family, we have navigated those situations together, and have spent time validating each other, praying, and being there for each other. I’m thankful for my family both here and far away. I’m thankful for God, for food, for a home, for laughter, for kindness from people we don’t know, and from ones we are getting to know. I’m just really thankful and humbled by this experience.
Next time, I’ll tell you all about this interesting location and the things we’ve encountered! I’ll answer questions like, “Do people stop, offer you water and make sure you’re ok after they hit you with their car?”
Shihemi herën tjetër! – Until next time!
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