We actually went back to Camping Kranea at Himare, where Dennis and wife are still running their 20-odd pitch site behind the beach road. It is compact to say the least but the beach access is superb and the water was warm. The only complaint was that everyone else is from Germany or German speaking. It is getting very boring.
Dennis was pleased to see us after eight years, even asking after our children who he seemed to be able to remember.
Rather disappointingly, we couldn’t order fish for dinner as he had none left by 7pm and so it was seafood pasta and a large pork steak with Albanian Red. Then a pleasant sleep in the very compact pitch (have I mentioned that already?) before the alarm went at 06:30. Unfortunately it was next door’s alert and they must have had an appointment somewhere, although frustratingly, they left at the same time as we did.
The route south from there is spectacular, as the mountains tumble straight down to the sea. We remembered seeing a sinister naval tunnel last time and were eager to find it again.
Suddenly it was there, maybe not so sinister after all and it now has a signpost too. I’m pretty sure it has been used on a film but have no idea which.
In the hills we succumbed to a roadside vendor of honey, rather than those selling toasted corn 🌽 lower down, or even vegetables at a roundabout.
Actually roundabouts are very convenient places to stop in Albania; an unusual concept but it is very popular and conventional drivers need to take extra care. Also they have picked-up the bad habit of double parking, probably from France or Spain but unlike there, they don’t use their hazard warning lights.
“The Investigation” gathered pace with a red flag…
Also we have a reg plate of dubious quality and I can’t translate the alphanumerics to anything valid.
So the next day we went for the border and wisely picked a lonely crossing which we hoped would be easy and it was. There were only a few cars ahead at the Albanian side and it didn’t take long.
The Greek side asked everyone to get out and go to police windows. There the guy flicked through the passport pages and then flicked again. Then he put them on the magic reader thing but I don’t know what that does. Maybe it picks up the number and reaches into a huge EU database to see if we troublesome Brits are likely to overstay our EU allowance.
He then started to ask questions in a very hard to understand accent and all I could hear was “three months”. In my border crossing brain fuzz, I didn’t immediately convert this to 90 days. If I had, I would have realised that he was concerned that we might indeed overstep the 90 days in 180 allowance. Why can’t these officials all use the same units?!
We were in Greece and it soon began to look different. The litter bin game soon lost its appeal but if you ever want to play along the rules are this.
One point for a bin with lid - not attached
Two points for a bin with a lid - attached
Three points for bin with lid - closed
There are variations and forfeits which are essentially linked to the number of dogs and chickens in any one bin.
We stopped for a coffee at a spot looking over towards Corfu, or maybe a peninsula. Then made our way through Igoumenitsa, a possible embarkation point for a ferry back to Italy.
What way are we coming back? Ferry, or road through Macedonia - Serbia - Hungary? We still have no idea but there’s no rush.
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