Albania Travel Guide

Escape the crowds and uncover captivating Albania, an up-and-coming Balkan hotspot rewarding intrepid explorers with rousing adventures, legendary hospitality, and awe-inspiring scenery at every turn.

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Albania Travel Guide

Show Summary

Why Visit Albania?

Looking for a European escape without the crowds? Albania might be exactly what you’re searching for.

This small Balkan country packs ancient ruins along stunning coastlines, historic towns with character to spare, dramatic mountain peaks, and beaches that will have you questioning why you ever bothered with more touristy Mediterranean spots.

The best part? Albania remains largely undiscovered by mass tourism, offering an authentic European experience that’s increasingly hard to find.

Albania rewards curious travelers with genuine adventures—whether hiking through remote mountain villages, connecting with locals in historic towns, or finding your perfect spot along the Albanian Riviera.

With mountains dropping dramatically into the Adriatic, a coastline dotted with ancient sites, and villages that feel frozen in time, Albania offers some of Europe’s most impressive landscapes without the Instagram crowds.

After decades of isolation, Albania has opened its doors to the world. Cities like Tirana blend trendy café culture with historic areas that still show their past.

And if there’s one thing that stands out about Albania, it’s the hospitality. Locals welcome visitors with a warmth that feels increasingly rare in Europe.

This guide will help you explore Albania’s landscapes, connect with its fascinating culture, and experience what makes this country special.

Geography and Regions

Albania covers 28,748 square kilometers (about the size of Maryland), slightly smaller than Belgium, with mostly mountainous terrain mixed with hills, valleys, lakes, rivers, and a 450 km coastline along the Adriatic and Ionian seas.

The country divides into four main geographical regions.

Coastal Albania

The coastal plain runs along the Adriatic and Ionian seas with beaches, coves, and headlands.

The area near Tirana has seen significant development, while southern regions remain more untouched.

Southern spots like Saranda and the Albanian Riviera offer a relaxed Mediterranean atmosphere. Historic ports like Durres and Vlora showcase Albania’s maritime past.

Don’t miss the abandoned Greco-Roman site of Butrint and Ali Pasha’s castle at Porto Palermo Bay.

Central Albania

The mountainous center includes the Albanian Alps in the north and Pindus Mountains in the south. You’ll find lively towns like Elbasan, medieval Kruja on its clifftop, and Tirana nestled between the peaks.

Forests, lakes, and national parks like Mount Dajti, Shebenik-Jabllanice, and Lura offer plenty of outdoor activities. Mountain villages provide glimpses into Albania’s past, while modern highways connect the urban centers.

Northern Albania

Northern Albania features the magnificent Albanian Alps (also called the Accursed Mountains). Snow-capped peaks, secluded valleys, ancient forests, and historic towns like Shkodra and Koman make this region special.

Outdoor enthusiasts head to trekking bases like Valbona, Theth, and Razem. The Koman Lake Ferry offers stunning views of gorges and mountains. Historic sites like Rozafa Castle and Orosh Castle add character to the landscape.

Southern Albania

Southern Albania presents striking contrasts—from coastal plains to the Drino River valley’s fields and orchards to the dramatic Pindus peaks.

The lake regions near Macedonia and Greece feature atmospheric towns and monasteries.

Saranda serves as the gateway to the UNESCO sites of Butrint and Gjirokastra. Mountain villages, thermal springs, and the UNESCO-listed villages of Muzina and Labove e Kryqit offer authentic rural experiences.

Weather and Climate

Albania has a Mediterranean climate along the coast and more continental conditions in the interior highlands. The varied topography creates significant local climate differences.

Coastal Areas

The coastal regions have hot, dry summers and mild, rainy winters. Summer daytime temperatures average 24°C with nighttime lows around 16°C.

Winters average 10°C during the day and 5°C at night. Sea temperatures reach 21-24°C in summer.

The Albanian Riviera gets about 1500 hours of sunshine annually. Humidity is moderate, and rainfall averages 1000 mm per year, with December being the wettest month.

Inland and Highlands

Inland areas and the Albanian Alps have a more continental climate with colder winters and bigger temperature swings.

Summer days average 27°C but can hit 35°C. Winters average 0°C during the day but drop below -10°C at night. Expect snow above 1500m between December and March.

The highlands receive around 2000 mm of precipitation annually.

Best Time to Visit

Spring (mid-March to May): Pleasant weather, wildflowers, fewer crowds.

Summer (June to early September): Perfect beach weather, but expect crowds in resort areas.

Autumn (late September to mid-November): Ideal for hiking, pleasant temperatures, beautiful fall colors.

Winter (December to mid-March): Rainy in lowlands and snowy in mountains, with Christmas atmosphere and skiing opportunities.

History and Cultural Insights

Albania’s strategic location has made it a target for countless occupations throughout history, creating a layered cultural mosaic.

Understanding the country’s complex past helps make sense of its traditions and character today.

Early Inhabitants

Humans first inhabited Albania over 250,000 years ago, as shown by stone tools found at Xarra.

By 1000 BC, Indo-European tribes including the Illyrians dominated the region. They built hill forts and traded with Greek coastal colonies.

Alexander the Great conquered the territory in the 4th century BC. After the Roman Empire took control in 165 BC, Albania became part of the provinces of Illyricum, Macedonia, and Epirus. Christianity began spreading by the 2nd century AD.

As the Roman Empire declined in the 4th century AD, the Byzantine Empire controlled most of Albania. Invasions by Goths and Huns followed. The Bulgarians took inland regions in the 9th century before the Byzantines regained power.

Middle Ages

The medieval era saw conflicts between local Albanian chieftains and the Byzantine Empire. Albanians are believed to descend from ancient Balkan peoples including the Illyrians, Dacians, Thracians, and Greeks.

After the Fourth Crusade sacked Constantinople in 1204, much of Albania came under the Kingdom of Sicily until the late 13th century when the Byzantine Empire briefly returned.

The 14th century saw the rise of Albanian principalities fighting off threats—from the Serbian Empire to the Ottoman Turks who began invasions from 1385.

Resistance against the Ottomans was led by national hero Skanderbeg, who repeatedly defeated them until his death in 1468, after which most of Albania fell under Ottoman control. The Ottomans built mosques, bridges, and castles that remain today.

From Independence to Communism

Albanians won independence from the Ottoman Empire in November 1912, but it didn’t last long. World War I saw the country divided between Italy, France, Greece, Serbia, and Montenegro.

Ahmet Zogu crowned himself King Zog in 1928 but fled when Italy invaded in 1939. The Axis powers occupied Albania during World War II until the communist Party of Labour took control in 1944.

Enver Hoxha emerged as Albania’s Stalinist dictator in 1944, turning the country into Europe’s most isolated and repressive communist state. More than 100,000 Albanians were imprisoned or exiled during his rule until his death in 1985.

Transition to Democracy

The communist regime finally collapsed in 1991. Multi-party elections took place in 1992 amid economic collapse and social disorder. Unregulated investment schemes in 1997 led to armed rebellion requiring UN intervention.

The 21st century has brought political and economic stability to Albania. It joined NATO in 2009 and received EU candidate status in 2014. While remnants of its communist past remain visible, Albania today is a lively democratic state welcoming visitors.

People and Society

With 2.8 million people, Albania is one of Europe’s least densely populated countries. Understanding local traditions and etiquette will enrich your experience.

Religious Composition

Islam: Sunni Muslims make up about 65% of Albania’s population, making it one of only two Muslim-majority nations in Europe. Most Muslims live in central and southern regions.

Christianity: About 20% of Albanians identify as Christian, with Orthodox believers in southern areas and Catholics in the north.

Atheism: Communism’s anti-religious policies created a still-sizable atheist segment (about 15% of the population).

Other: The remaining 5% consists of small Bektashi Muslim and Protestant Christian communities.

Cultural Values

Hospitality: Welcoming guests is central to Albanian identity. Don’t be surprised if you’re invited in for a drink or meal!

Honor: Personal honor and dignity matter greatly in Albanian culture. Elders receive respect, and saving face in public is important.

Besa: Keeping one’s word is paramount. Oaths of friendship create lasting bonds.

Gender Roles: Traditional patriarchal families remain common, though urban areas show changing attitudes.

Cuisine

Food is central to Albanian culture. Greek, Italian, and Ottoman influences have evolved into a distinctive native cuisine.

Olives, fruits, vegetables, yogurt, cheese, and cornmeal appear in many dishes.

Grilled meat, stews, breads, pies, and cheeses form everyday staples.

Signature dishes include fërgesë (baked peppers), qofte (spiced meatballs), pite (phyllo dough pies), and byrek (savory pastries).

Sweet treats like baklava, petulla doughnuts, and kadaif satisfy any sweet tooth.

Customs and Etiquette

Greetings involve handshakes and cheek kissing between friends. Use titles when addressing older people.

Bringing small gifts is customary when visiting homes.

Dress conservatively at religious sites. Keep swimwear for beaches only.

Positive responses include nodding vertically and the “OK” gesture (thumb and forefinger joined).

Avoid political discussions and photographing military installations.

Tipping isn’t expected but leaving 10% at restaurants is appreciated.

Major Cities and Destinations

From energetic capitals to coastal towns and historic fortresses, Albania offers diverse urban experiences.

Tirana

Tirana provides an energizing introduction to modern Albania with its mix of communist remnants, Ottoman relics, and trendy cafés.

Skanderbeg Square: A large public space surrounded by government buildings including the National Museum with its historic and artistic artifacts.

Et’hem Bey Mosque: An elegant 18th-century mosque with a beautiful interior. Non-Muslims can visit outside prayer times.

Bunk’Art Museum: Located in a massive Cold War bunker, this museum reveals Albania’s paranoid past through photographs, propaganda art, and exhibits.

Dajti Express: Take the cable car for outstanding views of Tirana surrounded by Mount Dajtit. Hiking trails cover the mountain.

Blloku District: Tirana’s fashionable quarter with trendy bars, shops, and clubs on tree-lined streets where communist officials once lived.

Berat

Berat’s Ottoman-era houses cascading down hillsides earned it the nickname “town of a thousand windows.”

The hilltop Kalaja Fortress has been surrounded by defensive walls since the 4th century AD. Inside, you’ll find Byzantine churches and ruins of a 13th-century mosque.

The Onufri Museum in the 16th-century Holy Trinity Church displays masterpieces by the renowned Albanian icon painter Onufri.

The Gorica Bridge spans the Osumi River, connecting neighborhoods still inhabited by pre-WWII merchant families.

The Ethnographic Museum’s 18th-century building showcases traditional Albanian lifestyles.

The Mangalem Quarter features narrow cobbled lanes and historic mosques like the Lead Mosque and the Bachelor’s Mosque.

Durrës

Founded in 627 BC as Epidamnos, Durrës is one of Albania’s oldest cities. Walking its ancient streets and ruins takes you back to its Hellenistic, Roman, and Venetian days.

The massive Roman Amphitheater dates to the 2nd century AD and once seated over 20,000 spectators for gladiator fights.

The Archaeological Museum displays ancient artifacts from when Durrës was a thriving Greek and Roman colony.

The Venetian Torra Tower offers panoramic views of the port city.

Beaches on Durrës’s outskirts are popular for water sports.

Krujë

Perched dramatically on a cliff, the fortified town of Krujë was the seat of Albania’s 15th-century national hero Skanderbeg, who successfully defended it against the Ottomans.

Krujë Castle, Albania’s main attraction, houses the Skanderbeg Museum with armor and memorabilia.

The Ethnographic Museum in a wealthy 17th-century Ottoman house depicts local lifestyles.

The Ottoman Dollma Teqe mosque was named for the grape vines covering its façade.

From the castle ramparts, you can see all the way to the Adriatic Sea and Mount Kruja.

The Old Bazaar sells handcrafts among castle walls lined with shops and cafes.

Sarandë

A popular resort town, Sarandë attracts visitors with its Mediterranean atmosphere, clear waters, ancient sites, and lively nightlife.

Butrint National Park: A UNESCO World Heritage Site with ruins from Greek, Roman, Byzantine, and Venetian times in a wetland setting.

Blue Eye Spring: A beautiful natural pool with azure water bubbling from an underground spring.

Lekursi Castle: A 15th-century fortress overlooking Sarandë and Corfu Island.

Beaches: Ksamil’s islands offer secluded sands, while the main beach has water sports.

Nightlife: Enjoy cocktails on the promenade or visit beachfront bars like Havana Beach.

Off the Beaten Path Destinations

Beyond Albania’s historic centers lie hidden gems perfect for slower travel.

Theth and the Accursed Mountains

Nestled in the Albanian Alps, the isolated mountain village of Theth captivates visitors with stone guesthouses, local food, and wilderness views. Hike through forests and gorges to spots like the Grunasi Waterfall.

Other highlights in the Alps include the Guesthouse Roshkolli compound’s 19th-century buildings, the abandoned village of Boga with oak forests, and Restelica’s valley viewpoint.

Gjirokastër’s Stone City

With its fortress towers, angled roofs, and pale stone houses, the hillside town of Gjirokastër offers a trip into Albania’s past.

Explore the imposing citadel and wander the Ottoman-era Old Bazaar. Visit Zekate House Museum for a look at traditional 19th-century life and check out the Historical Museum’s armory and artifacts.

Berat’s Rural Villages

Discover Berat’s mountain villages like Dardhe (known for vineyards), Gorica (with 18th-century churches), and Cobo (where stone houses with red tile roofs dot the valley).

Experience village life by staying in traditional guesthouses. Hike to monasteries like the Church of Saint Constantin and Helen in the forested slopes.

Butrint’s Ecosystems

A UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1992, Butrint National Park near Saranda contains diverse ecosystems from marshes to forests. A trail connects attractions like the Baptistery’s mosaics and the Acropolis’s Hellenistic theater.

Look for native wildlife like jackals, foxes, and tortoises among the ancient ruins. Kayak up the Vivari Channel to Ali Pasha’s Castle for great views.

Lake Ohrid’s Monasteries

Shared with North Macedonia, Lake Ohrid features traditional fishing villages and churches among olive groves and vineyards.

Stay in family-run guesthouses and visit monasteries like Lin’s medieval St. Mary’s Church and the Monastery of St. Naum, honoring a 10th-century religious scholar.

Top Outdoor Activities

With rugged mountains, clean lakes and rivers, and a beautiful coastline, Albania offers endless outdoor adventures.

Beaches and Swimming

With over 450 km of coastline, beach lovers have plenty of options in Albania. The warm, clear waters are perfect for swimming and snorkeling.

Top beaches include the Ksamil Islands with their secluded coves, Dhermi with its backpacker scene and beach parties, Vlore with its busy promenade and historic sites, and Jalë with family-friendly sandy beaches.

Try watersports like jet skiing, parasailing, and windsurfing at Dhermi, Saranda, and Vlore. Scuba diving reveals underwater treasures with visibility up to 40 meters in the Ionian Sea.

Mountain Treks and Hikes

The Albanian Alps, Pindus Range, and Korab Mountains offer some of Europe’s best hiking, with trails leading to lakes, canyons, and glacial valleys. Routes exist for all experience levels.

Top picks include Theth National Park’s trails to the Grunasi Waterfall and Valbona Pass, the Peaks of the Balkans Trail through the Accursed Mountains, and day hikes around Germenj, Dobërdol, and Vermosh. Guided hikes to Mount Korab and the Tomorr highlands provide breathtaking views.

Sea and Lake Kayaking

Albania’s coastline and lakes create memorable paddling adventures. Kayak trips let you discover hidden coves and empty beaches along the Albanian Riviera. Multi-day sea kayaking tours along the Ionian Coast are popular.

Inland, try kayaking on Lake Koman between dramatic gorges, Lake Prespa’s calm waters, or Lake Ohrid’s historic monasteries. Rent kayaks in Pogradec or book guided tours from Tirana or the Albanian Alps.

Rafting and Canyoning

Albania’s mountains create excellent whitewater rivers for rafting and canyoning. The Osumi, Vjosa, and Erzeni Rivers near Tirana offer Grade II to IV rapids suitable for beginners and experts. Multi-day trips on the Vjosa River reveal wild gorges and remote villages.

Canyoning through Langarica Canyon and Benja Canyon involves rappelling, jumping, and natural water slides. Tour operators in Tirana, Berat, and Vlora offer rafting, canyoning, and combination tours.

Mountain Biking and Cycling

From rough backcountry trails to scenic roads, Albania is great for cycling. The Alps region has routes for all levels. For a challenge, ride the trails around Vermosh, Razem, Theth, and Valbona. The Mirdita Region near Lezha offers gentler dirt tracks and paths.

Coastal roads like SH8 along the Albanian Riviera and the route from Vlora to Saranda offer amazing sea views. Guided tours provide vehicle support and cultural insights. Rental shops in Tirana, Saranda, Vlora, and Shkodra can set you up for independent rides.

Fascinating History and Culture

From ancient Illyrian settlements to Ottoman architecture, Albania offers deep insights into its past.

Butrint Archaeological Site

The UNESCO World Heritage Site of Butrint near Saranda contains over 2,500 years of history with ruins from Greek, Roman, Byzantine, and Venetian times in a natural wetland. See the ancient theater, public baths, Temple of Aesculapius, and Baptistery with detailed floor mosaics. The museum displays statues, gold coins, and vases.

Gjirokastra’s Ottoman-Era Bazaar

The atmospheric Old Bazaar of Gjirokastra offers a glimpse into traditional Albanian life during Ottoman times. Explore the cobblestone lanes to visit the 18th-century Ethem Bey Mosque and Skenduli House Museum for insights into local architecture and lifestyles. Don’t miss the impressive Zekate House with its guest rooms and carved wooden ceilings.

Berat’s Windows into the Past

From the grand Kala Fortress to the elegant Ottoman-era Gorica Quarter, the UNESCO town of Berat takes you back in time. The Onufri Ethnographic Museum shows local crafts and costumes, while the castle grounds contain the King Mosque, several Orthodox churches, and the National Museum of Icons with religious paintings and artifacts.

Butrint National Park’s Ancient Ruins

Inhabited since prehistoric times, Butrint National Park preserves extraordinary archaeological remains in a peaceful natural setting. Marvel at the ancient theater, public baths, baptistery, and basilica. The museum exhibits artifacts, statues, and decorative columns that bring Butrint’s history to life.

Rozafa Castle and Shkodra Sites

Perched on a rocky hilltop above Shkodra, the legendary Rozafa Castle was founded by the Illyrians in antiquity. Explore the ancient walls and visit the museum to learn about the castle’s history. The city itself features the grand Lead Mosque and several museums in historic buildings showcasing Albanian architecture.

Local Cuisine and Drink

Albanian food combines Mediterranean and Balkan influences into comfort dishes best enjoyed with rakia liquor and good company.

Grilled Meat (Mish) Dishes

Qofte: Savory fried meatballs made with ground beef and lamb, onion, herbs, and spices, often served with salads and rice.

Kebab: Juicy grilled meat skewers, usually lamb, chicken, or pork, marinated in olive oil and Mediterranean herbs.

Tava: Pan-fried lamb or veal, chopped into small pieces and cooked with onions, garlic, and bell peppers.

Frigane: Thin lamb fillets coated in a light batter before frying. Great with yogurt-cucumber dip.

Baked Cheese Pies (Byrek)

Byrek me Spinaq: Crispy phyllo triangle pies filled with feta cheese and spinach.

Byrek me Djathë: Mini phyllo pies with melted feta cheese filling, often served as an appetizer.

Lakror me Djathë: Baked pastry shells filled with fresh creamy cheese, egg, yogurt, and herbs.

Sogoli: Savory pastries from Korca filled with egg, milk, and goat cheese.

Hearty Stews (Goulashes)

Tavë Dheu: A national dish of lamb stewed with rice, eggs, yogurt, and herbs, baked until perfect.

Tavë Kosi: A rich lamb and rice casserole topped with creamy yogurt—the ultimate comfort food.

Fërgesë: A colorful skillet of peppers, tomatoes, and cottage cheese seasoned with garlic and mint.

Patëllxhanë Mbushur: Eggplant halves stuffed with tomatoes, onions, garlic, and herbs.

Desserts

Baklava: Layers of flaky phyllo pastry filled with chopped nuts and soaked in sweet syrup.

Kadaif: Fine shreds of dough layered with cheese filling and drizzled with sugar syrup.

Ravani: A semolina cake soaked in syrup made with citrus, cloves, and cinnamon.

Sheqer Pare: Caramelized sugar treats with roasted nuts—a perfect sweet snack.

Signature Drinks

Raki: Albania’s beloved grape brandy, enjoyed as an apéritif. Many locals make it at home from fermented fruits.

Boza: A tangy, mildly alcoholic drink made from fermented corn flour with a sweet yet sour taste.

Mountain Tea: A popular herbal tea made from wild sage leaves with a refreshing, earthy flavor.

Turkish coffee: Strong coffee spiced with cardamom and a thick layer of grounds.

Embrace the Albanian way—make friends over rakia, enjoy long meals of meat and cheese pies, and appreciate life’s simple pleasures.

Essential Information for Travelers

Proper preparation ensures a smooth and memorable Albanian adventure.

Passports and Visas

Citizens of many countries, including the EU, US, UK, Canada, and Australia, can enter Albania without a visa and stay up to 90 days.

Show your valid passport when entering. You may need to present an onward or return ticket to confirm your intention to leave Albania.

If you’re not a citizen of a Schengen country, you might need a visa depending on your nationality. Check with your local embassy or consulate.

Getting There and Away

Air: Tirana International Airport serves European destinations on airlines like British Airways, Lufthansa, and Air Albania. Budget airlines offer cheap flights within Europe.

Land: Albania has border crossings with Kosovo, Montenegro, North Macedonia, and Greece. Buses connect to neighboring countries. No international passenger trains currently run to Albania.

Sea: Ferries sail to Albania from Italy’s Bari, Brindisi, and Ancona. Day trips and ferries connect Albania to Corfu in Greece.

Transportation

Public Transport: Public transportation in Albania is relatively basic. Buses are the main option but can be crowded and unreliable. Tirana has no subway system.

Car Rentals: Renting a car gives you freedom to explore, but be cautious as driving in Albania can be challenging due to poor road conditions and aggressive driving.

Travel Tips: Always carry cash for transportation, as not all services accept cards. Consider hiring a local guide for rural areas.

Getting Around

Bus: An inexpensive but not always reliable way to travel Albania. Bus services connect most cities.

Car Rental: Provides the most flexibility, though driving conditions can be risky. Major agencies operate in Tirana, with many rental companies also at Saranda port.

Taxi: Readily available in towns and cities. Ask your hotel to book trusted drivers for day trips or transfers.

Where to Stay

Albania offers diverse accommodations:

Hotels: Found in urban centers and tourist areas. Amenities and prices vary widely.

Apartment Rentals: Offer convenience and space for families or longer stays via Airbnb.

Guesthouses: Provide glimpses of local life, especially in rural and small towns.

Hostels: Budget dorms for backpackers and solo travelers in Tirana, Saranda, Berat, and other tourist hubs.

Camping: Scenic coastal and lakeside campgrounds with facilities. Bring your own tent and gear.

Money and Payments

Albania’s official currency is the Albanian Lek (ALL). Euros and US Dollars are widely accepted in hotels, restaurants, and shops in urban areas and tourist regions.

ATMs are common in cities and larger towns. Visa and Mastercard are accepted in most shops, hotels, and restaurants. Carry cash for rural areas.

Tips aren’t required, but 10% is appreciated at restaurants for good service. Haggling may be necessary at markets and small independent stores.

Important Numbers and Phrases

Emergency Services: 127 (Ambulance), 128 (Fire), 129 (Police)

Directory Assistance: 11818

Hello/Hi: Pershendetje

Thank You: Faleminderit

Excuse me: Me falni

How much is this?: Sa kushton?

Health and Safety

Traffic: In cities like Berat, the absence of traffic lights makes crossing roads risky. Always look both ways.

Driving: Albania has speed limits that are often ignored. Taking a bus or hiring a local driver is recommended if you’re not confident driving.

Stray Dogs: Can be a problem, especially in rural areas.

Areas to Avoid: Albania is safe for tourists, but use common sense. Female travelers should take standard precautions. Avoid sketchy neighborhoods where pickpocketing is more common.

Water: Tap water is generally drinkable in Tirana but stick to bottled water elsewhere.

Insect Repellent: In summer, mosquitoes can be active, especially near former swamps and the western lowland.

Medical Facilities: Health clinics in small towns have limited equipment. Bring necessary medicines with you and ensure you have medical insurance. Pharmacies in towns and cities can provide over-the-counter medication for minor issues. Medical care meets European standards in Tirana but may be limited elsewhere.

COVID Restrictions: Check the latest travel restrictions and guidelines from the Albanian government and your home country before traveling.

Respecting Traditions and Customs

Albanians value respect, hospitality, and honor. Observing key norms will help you avoid missteps and appreciate local traditions.

Greetings

Handshakes are customary when meeting someone new, both between same-sex and mixed groups. Maintain eye contact.

After establishing friendship, Albanians of the same sex may greet each other with one or two cheek kisses.

Use formal titles when addressing elders or officials until invited to use their first name.

Social Etiquette

Dress neatly and avoid flashy clothing when meeting locals.

Keep strong emotions in check in public. Maintaining composure shows maturity.

Show respect to elders. Let them speak first and don’t interrupt.

Hospitality is sacred. Bring a small gift and accept food or drink if invited to someone’s home.

Dining Customs

Meals are communal, with dishes placed in the center to share. Declining food may offend your host.

Wait for elders to start eating. Keep your hands visible when eating, not under the table.

When dining as a guest, compliment the food and offer to help clean up.

Sensitive Topics

Avoid heated political discussions, especially regarding Kosovo’s independence.

Don’t criticize local culture, traditions, or food.

Downplay personal wealth and success. Albanians value modesty.

Don’t photograph military sites, ports, airports, or infrastructure.

Places of Worship

Dress conservatively when visiting religious buildings. Cover shoulders and knees.

Remove shoes before entering mosques or orthodox churches.

During Ramadan, avoid eating, chewing gum, or smoking in public until sunset.

Respecting local customs will help you gain trust and respect. Embrace Albania’s legendary hospitality and honor its traditions.

Planning Your Itinerary

With mountains, beaches, and historic towns, planning your Albania route requires some thought. Here are suggested itineraries to inspire you.

Ten-Day Highlights Tour

Day 1 – Tirana: Arrive in Albania’s colorful capital. See Skanderbeg Square, the National Museum, Et’hem Bey Mosque, and Mount Dajti.

Day 2 – Kruja: Visit historic Kruja with its medieval bazaar and imposing castle.

Day 3 – Durres: Explore Durres’s seaside antiquities and relax on its beaches.

Day 4 – Berat: Discover Berat’s atmospheric Ottoman quarter and castle museums.

Day 5 – Saranda: Enjoy the coastal resort atmosphere in Saranda and visit Butrint.

Day 6 – Gjirokastra: Explore the stone city of Gjirokastra on the forested mountain slopes.

Day 7 – Blue Eye Spring: See the Blue Eye Spring and Ali Pasha Castle along the coast.

Day 8 – Apollonia: Visit the ancient ruins of Apollonia before returning to Tirana.

Day 9 – Tirana: Shop and enjoy Tirana’s cafe culture in the Blloku district.

Day 10 – Departure: Fly from Tirana International Airport.

Two-Week Mix of History, Beaches, and Mountains

Day 1 – Tirana: Arrive in Tirana, visit the National Museum, and people-watch at Skanderbeg Square.

Day 2 – Shkodra: Journey to historic Shkodra to explore its sites and museums.

Day 3 – Koman Lake: Take the scenic ferry across Koman Lake, surrounded by towering cliffs.

Day 4 – Valbona: Spend the day hiking valley trails and enjoying mountain views.

Day 5 – Theth: Trek to the Grunasi Waterfall and village viewpoints.

Day 6 – Berat: Tour Berat’s hilltop castle and scenic Gorica Quarter.

Day 7-8 – Saranda: Enjoy beaches, food, and nightlife in Saranda.

Day 9 – Gjirokastra: Explore the atmospheric Old Town of Gjirokastra.

Day 10 – Blue Eye Spring: Swim in the Blue Eye’s beautiful waters.

Day 11 – Apollonia: Explore the ancient Greek and Roman ruins of Apollonia.

Day 12 – Durres: Relax on Durres’s beaches and visit its ancient sites.

Day 13 – Kruja: Visit Kruja’s medieval old town and castle.

Day 14 – Depart Tirana: Fly home from Tirana.

One Week Ionian Coast Focus

Day 1 – Tirana: Arrive in Tirana and explore its museums and sites.

Day 2 – Durres: See the Roman theater and museums in Durres.

Day 3 – Berat: Tour UNESCO-listed Berat’s castle, churches, mosque, and Ottoman quarter.

Day 4 – Vlora: Stop in Vlora to see its Independence Monument before continuing down the coast.

Day 5 – Saranda: Enjoy the sun and sea in Saranda.

Day 6 – Butrint: Visit Butrint’s archaeological site near Saranda.

Day 7 – Blue Eye Spring: Swim in the Blue Eye natural pool before returning to Tirana.

Day 8 – Depart Tirana: Fly home after a week along Albania’s Ionian coast.

Adjust these itineraries to match your interests, timeline, and budget. Leave room for spontaneity as new discoveries await around every corner in Albania.

Experiences Beyond the Beaten Path

Once you’ve seen the main attractions, Albania offers countless unique experiences away from tourist crowds. Here are some ideas to inspire your adventure.

Experiences Beyond the Beaten Path

Sacred Pilgrimages

Take a spiritual journey to Albania’s historic holy sites and secluded monasteries. Visit St. Naum along Lake Ohrid, the Monastery of Ardenica near Vlora with its ornate chapel, or Rubik’s peaceful Monastery of St. Mary surrounded by nature.

Underwater Adventures

Albania’s clear Ionian waters are perfect for divers and snorkelers. Discover old shipwrecks and marine life around Sazani Island’s underwater caves, or search for octopi and sea stars off the Karaburun Peninsula.

Remote Mountain Getaways

Trade busy beach resorts for peaceful highlands. Explore villages like Vermosh and Lepushe in the scenic Shkreli Valley, or stay in Theth’s simple guesthouses and see its historic lock-in tower.

Bunker Exploration

Thousands of abandoned Cold War bunkers are scattered across Albania, waiting for curious explorers. Visit the Bunk’Art 1 and 2 museums in Tirana for background before finding your own.

Lakeside Serenity

Escape to Albania’s tranquil lakes. Camp or stay in a guesthouse along Lake Ohrid to enjoy its clear blue waters. Kayak around Lake Butrinti near Saranda or take in the scenery of Lake Koman between mountains.

Traditional Festivals

Experience Albania’s rich folk culture at local festivals. Enjoy traditional music and dance during Korca’s two-week Beer Fest in August, or join Saint George’s Day celebrations in Voskopoja with horse races and wrestling matches.

Slow Food Adventures

Savor Albania’s fresh produce and traditional cooking. Buy cheese and yogurt directly from shepherds around Pogradec. Tour olive groves and taste local oils near Durres. Or purchase homemade honey from beekeepers in mountain towns like Vithkuq.

Road Trip Discoveries

Renting a car unlocks Albania’s hidden corners. Drive the winding SH20 and SH15 mountain routes for spectacular scenery. Or take the SH4 along Lake Ohrid for waterside views. Wherever you go, surprises await around every bend.

Follow your sense of adventure to create unique Albanian experiences. This fascinating country at the crossroads of old and new rewards curious travelers willing to step off the usual paths.

Responsible Travel in Albania

As Albania grows in popularity, traveling responsibly becomes increasingly important. Here’s how to make a positive impact.

Support the Local Economy

Choose family-run hotels, restaurants, tour companies, and guides to benefit residents directly.

Buy handicrafts and traditional products directly from local artisans and vendors.

Eat at small, local eateries where your money stays in the community.

Preserve Cultural Heritage

Follow proper etiquette at sacred sites like mosques and churches. Ask permission before photographing people.

Wear modest clothing when visiting historic areas and religious places.

Protect Albania’s heritage by never touching, altering, or removing artifacts and ruins.

Tread Lightly in Nature

Don’t litter. The sad truth is Albanians themselves are notorious for tossing trash out and not respecting the environment. But as a visitor you should act responsibly. Carry out all trash and dispose of it properly.

Stay on marked hiking trails to avoid damaging vegetation.

Don’t collect natural souvenirs like shells, flowers, or stones.

Choose responsible tour providers for excursions and activities.

Travel with an Open Mind

Accept cultural differences and be tolerant of traditional perspectives.

Try using basic Albanian phrases instead of expecting fluent English.

Keep an open mind when encountering lifestyles different from your own.

Practicing responsible travel ensures your trip benefits Albanian communities while helping preserve the country’s natural and cultural treasures.

Travel mindfully so this Balkan gem retains its distinctive character for generations to come.

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Chapter 6

The Winds of Change

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Albanias Turbulent Transition

Thunder rolled across Kennedy Airport's rain-slicked tarmac as I stood at the gate in July 1987, my diplomatic passport heavy in my breast pocket like a stone. Five years of representing Albania at the United Nations had taught me to wear authority like armor, but today that armor felt paper-thin. Beyond the terminal's vast windows, an Alitalia jet waited to carry me home to a country that had begun to view me as foreign, perhaps even dangerous.

The whispers had begun weeks earlier. My replacement at the Albanian Mission, Sazan Bejo, arrived bearing veiled warnings over coffee that tasted suddenly bitter. "Be careful, Ilia," he'd murmured, eyes scanning the Manhattan café for potential listeners. "Things are... complicated at home." Letters from Tirana carried cryptic messages between their lines. My brother, who had always been my protector since childhood, wrote of "unusual interest" in my return. My cousin, a driver for foreign dignitaries, overheard conversations in hotel lobbies that made him say: "They are watching your arrival closely."

Though these warnings lacked concrete evidence, they hung over me like the storm clouds gathering outside the terminal windows. The thought of seeking political asylum had flickered briefly in my mind during sleepless nights, but my daughter remained in Albania, still living under the watchful eye of the communist regime. What retribution might fall on her innocent head if I refused to return? I kept these fears from my wife, whose dark eyes nevertheless reflected her own unspoken anxiety.

"Final boarding call for Alitalia Flight 457 to Rome, continuing on to Tirana," the announcement sliced through my thoughts. I tightened my grip on my carry-on bag and turned to my wife and young son. The moment of decision had arrived.

Two weeks earlier, I had shared a final dinner with Dr. Mike Zotos, a dear friend and Columbia University-educated psychologist whose Greek heritage connected him to the Balkans in ways few Americans could understand. The restaurant's warm lighting had softened the edges of our conversation, but not its substance.

"They're recalling you because you've become too independent," Mike had said, a wine glass held halfway to his lips. "You've seen too much of the outside world."

"Perhaps," I replied, studying the tablecloth's pattern. "Or perhaps they simply need me elsewhere."

Mike's skeptical expression had said everything. Over the years, he and his wife Tulla had become like family to us, their home a sanctuary of warmth and understanding. Years later, after I had returned to America as a graduate student in Wisconsin, the news of Mike's passing would reach me through Tulla's tearful phone call, a reminder that some bonds transcend politics and borders.

Under orders, my wife, young son, and I now boarded the plane. The cabin's stale air carried the scent of cigarettes and cheap cologne. As we took our seats, I felt the weight of two worlds pulling at me – the America that had expanded my horizons, and the Albania that still owned my future. The aircraft shuddered as it lifted into the gray New York sky, and I wondered if I was flying toward my destruction.

Tirana's airport greeted us with the familiar scent of diesel and dust. My eyes scanned the terminal for plainclothes security officers, searching for the telltale bulge of shoulder holsters beneath ill-fitting jackets. To my cautious relief, there were none waiting. Yet the absence of any Foreign Ministry representative to greet a returning diplomat spoke volumes about my uncertain status.

Instead, a lone official Mercedes – an old model showing the wear of diplomatic service – idled at the curb. The driver nodded curtly; he had been sent by Llambi Gegprifti, the mayor of Tirana, a trusted confidant from my earlier days. This unexpected gesture brought a mixture of comfort and unease. At customs, officers examined our luggage with unusual thoroughness, opening even the small suitcase containing my son's toys. Their faces revealed nothing as they waved us through.

The road into Tirana revealed a city unchanged yet somehow diminished since my departure. The same concrete apartment blocks, the same propaganda billboards celebrating the Party's triumphs, the same old men playing chess in the park – but everything seemed grayer, more worn at the edges. Had Albania always been this way, or had my eyes been altered by America's vibrancy?

The following evening found us in Mayor Gegprifti's home, where the rich aroma of traditional tavë kosi – baked lamb with yogurt – filled the dining room. Gegprifti's past roles as Minister of Industry and Mines and Deputy Minister of Defense had endowed him with a keen eye for political currents. Known for his fairness and open-mindedness, he represented a rare breed in Albania's political ecosystem – a man of integrity who had somehow survived the system's hungry appetite for conformity.

Over glasses of raki, the clear spirit catching the light, we exchanged news and memories. I carefully sidestepped any mention of my troubled relationship with our UN ambassador, focusing instead on diplomatic anecdotes that painted Albania in a favorable light. Yet Gegprifti's perceptive eyes caught the shadows behind my carefully chosen words.

"You seem troubled, my friend," he said quietly as his wife stepped out to check on dessert.

"Just tired from the journey," I replied, the lie sitting heavy on my tongue.

He nodded, respecting my reticence, and smoothly steered the conversation toward lighter topics – his daughter's university studies, the promising olive harvest this year. But the undercurrent remained, electric and unspoken. We both knew that in Albania of 1987, silence often carried more truth than words.

Years later, I would remember this evening with particular poignancy when news reached me of Gegprifti's passing in May 2023, at 81. After being accused of "funds abuse" in 1993, only to be acquitted on appeal, he left Albania in 1995. Later entangled in allegations of crimes against humanity that were eventually dropped during the unrest of 1997, he had lived his final years in modest circumstances with his wife Fanika. The contrast between his simple apartment and the opulent villas of Albania's new political elite, who amassed fortunes through dubious means, spoke volumes about the nation's transformation.

The warm reception at Gegprifti's home evaporated like morning mist when I stepped into the Foreign Ministry the next day. The marble halls, once familiar as my own heartbeat, now felt cold and forbidding. Colleagues averted their eyes or offered smiles that never reached them. Whispers followed me like shadows as I made my way to my old office, now occupied by someone else.

"Comrade Zhulati," the receptionist said, the formal address telling me everything I needed to know about my changed status. "You are expected at the Department of Political Intelligence tomorrow morning at nine. The Party Secretary will be present."

I nodded, keeping my face carefully neutral. So it had begun – the reckoning I had feared since receiving my recall orders.

"The Party never forgets, Comrade Zhulati," she added, her voice lowered. "Neither its heroes nor its... disappointments."

That night, I sat at our apartment window, watching the lights of Tirana flicker in the distance. My wife moved quietly behind me, unpacking our belongings, arranging our sparse furniture into the semblance of a home. Neither of us mentioned tomorrow's meeting. Some fears are too large for words, casting shadows that swallow conversation whole.

My path to the diplomatic posting in New York had been fraught with political obstacles from the beginning. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, discovering my wife's family ties to a political prisoner – her uncle, imprisoned for the crime of criticizing the regime's prioritization of bunkers over housing – had initially blocked my appointment. Only President Ramiz Alia's direct intervention, recognizing my linguistic skills and diplomatic potential, had secured the coveted position.

Yet even in New York, thousands of miles from Albania, the regime's paranoia had reached across oceans to monitor my every move. My predecessor at the UN Mission, the party secretary of the Department of Political Intelligence, had spent more time monitoring Albanian émigré radio broadcasts than engaging in actual diplomacy. His English had been rudimentary at best, his diplomatic skills nonexistent. I, by contrast, had focused on building bridges, delivering speeches, exercising Albania's Right of Reply in UN committees, and cultivating relationships with journalists and diplomats from across the political spectrum.

Our approaches could not have been more different, and therein lay my vulnerability. I saw Albanian émigrés not as enemies of the state but as disillusioned patriots who still loved their homeland, if not its government. This view, which I had dared to express in a confidential memo to President Alia, was heresy in a system where ideological purity trumped pragmatic engagement.

That evening, a knock at our door startled us. A colleague from the Ministry stood outside, his face tense with unease. "I was in the neighborhood," he said, the transparent lie hanging between us. Over coffee and raki, we exchanged pleasantries until my wife discreetly withdrew to put our son to bed.

"They sent me to gauge your defense for tomorrow," he finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "The department is...concerned about your testimony."

I thanked him for his honesty, for risking his own position to warn me. "Tell them I will speak the truth as I see it," I said simply. "Nothing more, nothing less."

After he left, I sat alone in our small living room, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of Tirana after years in Manhattan. A dog barked in the distance; someone's radio played folk music through an open window; a couple argued in the apartment above. These ordinary sounds of life continuing, oblivious to the political currents that might soon sweep me away, brought an unexpected comfort. Whatever happened tomorrow, Albania would continue its slow, painful evolution toward whatever future awaited it.

The Department of Political Intelligence occupied the fourth floor of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs building, its windows narrow as if suspicious of too much light. Inside, the smell of floor polish and stale cigarette smoke mingled with the distinctive scent of fear – a smell I had almost forgotten during my years in America.

I was ushered into a conference room where a long table dominated the space. Deputy Prime Minister Isai sat at one end, his presence a clear indication of the meeting's importance. Though we had met several times before, his greeting was curt, his eyes avoiding mine. The party secretary opened proceedings with ominous formality.

"Comrade Zhulati, this meeting has been convened to address serious concerns about your activities during your posting in New York."

The Party Secretary of the Ministry of Interior, an elderly man whose face seemed permanently set in disapproval, took over. His voice, weathered by decades of tobacco, scraped through the room like a rusted blade.

"We have reports that you have been contaminated by Western influences," he began, emphasizing each syllable as if teaching a child. "Your interactions with Albanian émigrés – known enemies of our socialist state – raise questions about your ideological commitment. Your conversations with American journalists, particularly with the Voice of America's Dr. Biberaj, suggest a dangerous susceptibility to imperialist propaganda."

As he continued cataloging my supposed transgressions, I studied the faces around the table. Some showed genuine ideological fervor; others merely performed the expected outrage; a few – mostly younger officials – kept their expressions carefully neutral, revealing nothing.

When my turn came to speak, I rose slowly, feeling the weight of every eye in the room. The silence stretched taut as a wire.

"Comrades," I began, the familiar address feeling strange on my tongue after years of 'ladies and gentlemen' at the UN. "I have served Albania with unwavering loyalty for my entire career. In New York, I represented our nation with dignity and effectiveness, raising our profile in international forums where previously we had been invisible."

I turned to address the party secretary directly. "You claim I have been influenced by Western decadence, yet offer no evidence beyond my professional contacts with journalists and diplomats – contacts essential to my role. You suggest my conversations with Dr. Biberaj indicate disloyalty, yet have you actually read his analyses? They are often more nuanced and fair to Albania than many European commentaries."

Regarding the émigrés, I argued that the world had changed. "Albania in 1987 is not Albania of 1950. The geopolitical landscape has shifted, and these scattered communities no longer pose the threat they once did. Many simply wish to reconnect with their homeland, to contribute to its development."

I reminded them that I had voiced similar views directly to President Alia, demonstrating my commitment to honest counsel even when politically inconvenient. "What benefit would it serve Albania to continue treating every expatriate as an enemy? What diplomatic advantage does such isolation bring us?"

Turning to the party secretary, a man whose diplomatic achievements were negligible, I drew the contrast with my own record. "During my time in New York, I delivered numerous speeches in the UN General Assembly and its committees. I exercised Albania's Right of Reply against Britain on the Corfu Channel issue, defending our sovereignty in a forum where such defenses are heard by the entire world. I built relationships with key journalists who now cover Albania with greater understanding."

My voice rose slightly as I reached my conclusion. "What interests could possibly have been harmed by these efforts? After decades of isolation, my work has enhanced Albania's standing and visibility. The world is changing around us, comrades. We must adapt our diplomatic approach to this new reality or risk being left behind."

I saw Deputy Prime Minister Isai's expression shift slightly – a momentary flicker of recognition, perhaps even respect. Several younger officials nodded almost imperceptibly. But the hard-liners remained unmoved, their faces set in ideological stone.

The meeting concluded with a formal reprimand – a mild punishment by Albanian standards, but a black mark on my record nonetheless. As a final act of petty retribution, they reassigned me to the Italian desk, deliberately reducing my role. Yet their shortsightedness soon became apparent as the political landscape shifted. Within months, they found themselves forced to rely on my expertise, expanding my responsibilities to include the crucial U.S., German, and British portfolios.

That evening, I sought out Mayor Gegprifti, my most steadfast ally in the system. Over dinner at a small restaurant where the owner knew to give us a private corner, I recounted the day's events. Gegprifti listened carefully, his weathered fingers turning his wine glass in slow circles.

"You spoke the truth to them," he said finally. "That is both your greatest strength and your most dangerous flaw, my friend."

He shared that he had jokingly asked Interior Minister Isai how many medals I deserved instead of a reprimand. "Isai almost smiled," Gegprifti added. "Almost."

Later, I learned that Gegprifti had cornered Foreign Minister Malile at a diplomatic reception, championing my cause with the persistence of a man who understood power's mechanics intimately. This intervention, combined with Deputy Prime Minister Isai's awareness of my reputation among foreign diplomats, allowed me to retain my position despite the formal censure.

Just weeks after my return, in late August 1987, an unexpected visitor arrived in Albania. Professor Charles Moskos, the distinguished Northwestern University military sociologist, appeared with his wife Ilka. Though the Department had assigned another guide to the American academic couple, Moskos insisted that I accompany them – a request that raised eyebrows but could not be refused without creating a diplomatic incident.

The real purpose of Moskos's visit was transparent to those who understood the subtle language of diplomatic gestures. He had come to ensure I hadn't been imprisoned or worse. His presence sent a clear message to the regime: this Albanian diplomat had powerful friends watching out for his welfare.

Acting Prime Minister Isai, demonstrating unexpected political finesse, personally arranged for me to escort the couple and secured them rooms at Tirana's finest hotel. Deputy Prime Minister Isai called me to his office and ordered me to take Professor Moskos for a special dinner at Dajti Hotel, the best hotel in Albania at the time, a place reserved for dignitaries and diplomats. I took with me also my office friend who had met with Prof. Moskos and his wife Ilka first. During the dinner, Prof. Moskos reiterated the importance of restoring diplomatic relations between Albania and the US and urged that I inform president Alia to take a decision over this important matter. I promised Professor Moskos that I was going to write to president Alia about Professor Moskos coming to Albania and about his appeal that Albania restore diplomatic relations with the US, something important for its strategic and economic development of the country.

The next morning I went to meet again with Prof. Moskos for coffee. Prof. Moskos told me that his wife Ilka was pretty sick from an ear infection for the whole night and asked me if I could get her to an ear specialist.

I immediately arranged for her treatment at a hospital in Tirana, remaining by her side to ensure she received proper care. Moskos's gratitude was profound and genuine. As we walked the hospital corridors together, he squeezed my shoulder.

"We were worried about you, Ilia," he said quietly, when no one else could hear. "Word reached us about your... difficulties."

"I'm still standing," I replied with a small smile. "For now."

"Keep standing," he said, his academic demeanor giving way to something more urgent. "People are watching, and they care what happens to you."

This brief exchange, five sentences total, communicated volumes. In those words lay the assurance that I wasn't forgotten, that beyond Albania's isolated borders, people of influence were aware of my situation. It was a lifeline thrown across ideological divides, a human connection that transcended Cold War barriers.

As 1989 dawned, the winds of change blowing through Eastern Europe became impossible to ignore. Gorbachev's reforms were reshaping the Soviet Union; Poland was negotiating with Solidarity; Hungary was dismantling its border fence with Austria. Yet in Albania, hardliners clung desperately to power, seemingly oblivious to the tectonic shifts occurring around them.

The accusations against me – of being "poisoned" by American ideology and harboring dangerous sympathies for émigrés – revealed how profoundly my accusers misunderstood global affairs. Their worldview remained frozen in the Stalinist ice age, unable to adapt to the thawing international environment.

The irony was not lost on me. Before my return to Albania in late 1987, I had witnessed the Czechoslovakian Prime Minister deliver a historic speech at the UN General Assembly advocating for greater freedom. The thunderous applause that followed had included my own enthusiastic contribution, much to the bewilderment of my Eastern Bloc colleagues. Now, in Tirana, my attempts at pragmatic diplomacy were met with suspicion and scorn by men who had never set foot outside our borders.

By early 1990, the first real cracks were appearing in Albania's hermetic isolation. When Interior Minister Simon Stefani succeeded Isai, I sensed an opportunity. During a meeting in his office – the same office where I had been reprimanded years earlier – I made a bold declaration.

"Minister Stefani," I said, "I will participate in the proposed Vienna summit with Professor Moskos only if President Alia explicitly endorses our efforts toward rapprochement with the United States."

Stefani, momentarily taken aback by my audacity, promised to consult with the president directly. For two days, I waited in a state of suspended animation, unsure whether I had overplayed my hand.

When Stefani summoned me back to his office, his expression gave nothing away. He handed me a document bearing President Alia's official seal.

"If Mr. Zhulati firmly believes that Professor Moskos' colleagues genuinely seek to restore ties between Albania and the United States," the presidential directive read, "assure him that Albania is equally ready for formal bilateral negotiations."

With a wry smile that cracked his typically stern demeanor, Stefani remarked, "You've become quite indispensable, Ilia."

That evening, I shared the news with Mayor Gegprifti over dinner at his home. "Any idea why I'm unexpectedly traveling to Austria?" I asked playfully as we awaited our appetizers.

His puzzlement turned to astonishment as I revealed our mission to finalize the time and place for initiating Albanian-American diplomatic reconciliation. "Oh, that is wonderful!" he exclaimed, his face suddenly years younger. "This is very important, Ilia!" We raised our glasses, toasting to a future neither of us had dared imagine possible.

To my surprise, Gegprifti had been completely unaware of this diplomatic initiative. It seemed President Alia had kept secret meetings with Moskos confidential for five years, from 1985 to 1990, even from his Foreign Minister, Reis Malile. This revelation puzzled me, especially considering Malile's criticism of my views on the émigré community during our contentious meeting in New York in 1986.

I could only conclude that President Alia, ever the strategic thinker, was playing a delicate game. The power struggle between conservative and reformist factions within the Politburo remained fierce. Alia's private desire to establish diplomatic relations with the United States was balanced against his fear of alienating Enver Hoxha's widow, Nexhmije, who still wielded considerable influence among the old guard. By keeping these diplomatic overtures secret, he maintained plausible deniability while testing the waters of international engagement.

Vienna in early April 1990 greeted me with a riot of spring blossoms and a sense of possibility that had long been absent in Tirana. My old friend Ilir Cepani, First Secretary at the Albanian embassy, met me at the airport with a warm embrace. As he drove me through the imperial city's streets, past buildings whose elegance made our Stalinist architecture seem all the more grim by comparison, Cepani chatted about local diplomatic gossip, blissfully unaware of my mission's true purpose.

On April 3, 1990, I entered the elegant Hotel Imperial to meet Professor Moskos for lunch. The restaurant's crystal chandeliers and velvet draperies created an atmosphere of refinement that felt almost surreal after years in Albania's austerity. Prof. Moskos rose as I approached, his face alight with anticipation. After exchanging pleasantries about our families, he sensed from my demeanor that I carried significant news.

"Professor Moskos," I said with a smile I couldn't suppress, "this lunch is on you today."

He laughed, his academic reserve momentarily dissolving. "Don't worry, I have a blank check from the U.S. government."

As the waiter poured a celebratory wine – not the sort one found at casual diplomatic lunches – I raised my glass. "We won," I declared, meeting his eager gaze across the starched tablecloth. "I am here on behalf of President Alia to inform you that Albania is ready to restore diplomatic relations with the United States."

Our glasses clinked, the sound crystalline and perfect, echoing the triumph of years of quiet diplomacy. Empowered to choose the time and place for formal talks, Moskos didn't hesitate. "How about the first week of May at the headquarters of the United Nations in New York?" he proposed.

I readily agreed, feeling the weight of history in that simple nod. After decades of hostility and isolation, after countless missed opportunities and false starts, the door was finally opening.

"I'm going straight to Washington tomorrow," Prof. Moskos declared, his voice charged with purpose. "By this time next week, the wheels will be in motion."

As we left the restaurant and walked through Vienna's cobblestoned streets, a lightness entered my step that had been absent for years. The following day, over coffee at a café near the Hofburg Palace, Moskos shared encouraging news from his American government contacts.

"Ambassador James Woolsey sends his regrets for missing our meeting," he said. "But he wanted me to assure you of Washington's unwavering support for Albania and Kosovo. His exact words were: 'No one will touch them.'" This promise would prove prescient in the years to come, a diplomatic lifeline during the region's darkest hours.

The conversation then took a lighter turn as Moskos mused about possibly becoming the first U.S. ambassador to Albania "if my wife would allow it," he added with a chuckle. Though said in jest, the comment revealed the depth of his commitment to bridge-building between our nations.

As we parted, I sensed the bittersweet nature of our farewell. Our paths were diverging – Prof. Moskos to Washington to formalize what we had begun, I would return to Tirana to navigate the treacherous political currents that still threatened to capsize our fragile vessel of diplomacy. Yet the impact of our work would endure beyond our personal journeys.

Upon my return to the Albanian embassy in Vienna, I discovered that my friend Cepani had weathered an interrogation from Professor Lazeri, President Alia's special advisor. Lazeri, whose academic arrogance was legendary, had been incensed to hear me referred to as "Professor Zhulati" during my visit – a title he considered his exclusive domain. Cepani, demonstrating the diplomatic skill that had earned him his posting, had smoothly explained that I had once been his English teacher, a harmless clarification that nevertheless failed to soothe Lazeri's wounded pride.

Back in Tirana on April 8, 1990, I briefed President Alia on the positive reception of Albania's overture. Four days later, he publicly declared Albania's willingness to establish diplomatic relations with both the United States and the Soviet Union – a dramatic shift that left many in the diplomatic community stunned.

The first formal meeting between Albanian and American delegations in early May 1990 at UN Headquarters proceeded with cautious optimism. Decades of mistrust could not be dispelled in a single session, and Ambassador Pitarka, heading our delegation, returned to Tirana seeking further clarification on specific terms.

Behind the scenes, I wondered how President Alia's advisor, Professor Lazeri – that staunch conservative with his deep-seated suspicion of all things Western – would react as these developments unfolded. Perhaps Alia, demonstrating the strategic acumen that had kept him in power through turbulent times, was deliberately keeping his advisor in the dark until the agreement was too far advanced to derail.

Despite initial momentum, the machinery of the Albanian bureaucracy ground painfully slowly. It wasn't until March 15, 1991, nearly a year after our Vienna meeting, that Foreign Minister Muhamet Kapllani officially signed the memorandum restoring diplomatic relations. This moment represented the culmination of six years of careful work by Professor Moskos and myself, a partnership that had begun in whispers and culminated in formal recognition.

As I watched the signing ceremony, broadcast on Albanian television, a complex emotion washed over me – pride in what we had accomplished, certainly, but also a wistful awareness that Albania opening its doors to America was already changing in ways none of us could fully predict. The future stretched before us, unwritten and uncertain, but at least now we would not face it in isolation.

The shadows of the past still loomed large, and the challenges of rebuilding trust after decades of hostility remained daunting. Yet as spring bloomed across Tirana in 1991, hope began to take root alongside the flowers. The future of Albania was being rewritten, and I had played my small part in that transformation.

During these years of diplomatic maneuvering, my academic aspirations had quietly persisted, a parallel life waiting in the wings. In 1987, I had contacted Thomas Bishop, a linguistics professor at New York University, and his Albanian-American wife, Helen, about visiting Albania once diplomatic ties were restored. The prospect filled them with excitement – Helen would be returning to her ancestral homeland, a journey of both geographic and emotional significance.

Our initial encounter in New York had been facilitated by Leonidas, an Albanian-Greek restaurateur who frequented our events at the UN mission. His own story was emblematic of the diaspora's complexity: fluent in Greek and English but not his native Albanian, he had fled with his father before liberation in 1944, leaving behind his mother and sisters. His annual pilgrimages to Albania continued until his mother's passing, each visit a bittersweet renewal of severed ties.

When the Bishops finally visited in 1990, I arranged for them to be officially invited as "friends of Albania." Over dinners in Tirana, we exchanged stories that spanned continents and ideologies. The Bishops' eagerness to explore Helen's heritage filled me with hope that the barriers between Albania and its far-flung children might finally be dissolving.

During one particularly candid conversation, I confided in Professor Bishop my own academic aspirations. With characteristic generosity, he offered to leverage his connections at the Sorbonne on my behalf. Weeks later, as Albania continued its halting progress toward openness, a letter arrived at my doorstep in Tirana – an invitation to join the prestigious Ecole des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Historiques et Physiologiques as an assistant professor and doctoral candidate.

This opportunity represented more than personal advancement; it offered a graceful exit from Albania's increasingly volatile political scene. As 1990 drew to a close, I found myself at the convergence of two paths: one continuing my work in Albania's diplomatic service during this historic transition, the other pursuing academic scholarship in Paris. Both promised to contribute to my homeland's development, though in vastly different ways.

The foundations I had helped lay for diplomatic relations with the United States were beginning to bear fruit. Yet increasingly, I sensed that my future contributions might come through academic rather than diplomatic channels. The Sorbonne invitation represented a bridge between worlds – a chance to bring Western knowledge back to an Albania desperately in need of new ideas and approaches.

As spring approached in 1991, a different Albania was emerging from decades of isolation – an Albania taking its first tentative steps toward democracy, even as I prepared for my own journey of transformation. The diplomatic breakthrough with the United States, culminating in our Vienna meeting and the subsequent formal recognition, had fulfilled my promise to Professor Moskos. Now, as Albania navigated the turbulent waters of democratic transition, a new chapter beckoned from the City of Light.

I stood at my ministry window on my last day before departure, watching Tirana's streets below. The same buildings stood as before, the same mountains ringed the horizon, but everything felt charged with potential. Change had come to Albania at last – halting, uncertain, but undeniable. And change was coming for me as well, carrying me toward Paris and whatever future awaited beyond.

[End of Chapter 6]

 

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