Shkodra is a city located in the North West of Albania on the edge of Lake Shkodra which straddles the border between Shqiperia and Montenegro. An incredible geographic mix of mountains, countryside, rivers, lakes, ocean, and urban space, it has every part of Albania that I love, all in one place.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BmYMvGYhkuv/?taken-by=thebalkanista
Now the third biggest city in the country, it can trace its roots back as far as the end of the 4th century (there are ruins dating back further) and its past is peppered with tales of kings, Illyrians, and resistance.
At the entrance to the city sits Rozafa Castle which rises imposingly 130m into the sky, marked with a single red Albanian flag that flutters in the summer breeze. It overlooks the Buna and Drin rivers and over almost 2 millennia, it has provided the perfect vantage point allowing Shkodrans to protect their stronghold from any potential invading force. The castle started its life as an Illyrian stronghold before being captured by the the Romans in around 167 BC. Today, its well-preserved fortifications are mostly Venitian in origin and the walls sing tales of the Seige of Shkodra by the Ottomans in 1478 and the Seige of Shkodra by the Montenegrins in 1912.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BmYn6XHB43W/?taken-by=thebalkanista
The castle is also home to The Legend of Rofaza;
““Its legend, archaeology and history testify to its early existence. The legend is about the initiative of three brothers who set about building the castle. They worked all day, but the walls fell down at night. They met a clever old man who advised them to sacrifice someone so that the walls would stand. The three brothers found it difficult to decide whom to sacrifice. Finally, they decided to sacrifice one of their wives who would bring lunch to them the next day. So they agreed that whichever of their wives was the one to bring them lunch the next day was the one who would be buried in the wall of the castle. They also promised not to tell their wives of this. The two older brothers, however, explained the situation to their wives that night, while the honest youngest brother said nothing. The next afternoon at lunchtime, the brothers waited anxiously to see which wife was carrying the basket of food. It was Rozafa, the wife of the youngest brother. He explained to her what the deal was, that she was to be sacrificed and buried in the wall of the castle so that they could finish building it, and she didn’t protest. Rozafa, who was predestined to be walled, was worried about her infant son, so she accepted being walled on condition that they must leave her right breast exposed so as to feed her newborn son, her right hand to caress him and her right foot to rock his cradle:
I plead
When you wall me
Leave my right eye exposed
Leave my right hand exposed
Leave my right foot exposed
For the sake of my newborn son
So that when he starts crying
Let me see him with one eye
Let me caress him with one hand
Let me feed him with one breast
Let me rock his cradle with one foot
May the castle breast be walled
May the castle rise strong
May my son be happy.”
https://www.instagram.com/p/BmYoBOJBVjj/?taken-by=thebalkanista
The moral of the story here is clearly to tell him to make his own goddamn lunch!
As you descend from the castle and onto the flat-lands of the plain, the first thing I noticed when I entered the city was the prevalence of bicycles.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BmYvykehdUQ/?taken-by=thebalkanista
Everywhere you go- down the pedestrianised streets, through narrow alleys, and along the main roads, you can hear the whirring of bikes and the tinkle of bells as they weave in and out of pedestrians. Due to the fact that the city is largely flat, locals realised that the best way to get around is on a bike. I absolutely love this- eco-friendly, safe, healthy, and it adds a certain charm to the city centre. Bikes are everywhere; stacked outside coffee shops, parked outside markets and shops, and even leaning against the walls of bars whilst their owners sip fruity cocktails inside.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BmYs4qphYKr/?taken-by=thebalkanista
The city itself is absolutely beautiful- a real mixture of architecture, it alternates between large imposing hotels, communist-era buildings, and smaller and older dwellings that have been lovingly restored and painted bright colours.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BmYznUvBVUc/?taken-by=thebalkanista
The whole place has an unmistakable vibe; people stroll around the streets, buskers sing Albanian music and dance, rooftop bars pump out music whilst its patrons sit and watch the sunset.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BmYzFM7hpbx/?taken-by=thebalkanista
I sat in one such rooftop bar and drained a tangy daquiri whilst the call to prayer rang out, interspersed with the ringing of the church bell- a testament to Albania’s tolerant religious and social attitudes.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BmYzBGdBI1k/?taken-by=thebalkanista
There is a very definite atmosphere in Shkodra- relaxed, laid-back and rather bohemian all at the same time. People are not in a rush here, they amble along on foot or on bikes, smiling and listening to the music and laughter that buzzes through the streets. I have a feeling Shkodra is going to be one of my favourite places in this beautiful country!
https://www.instagram.com/p/BmY1wROhn5Y/?taken-by=thebalkanista
Follow The Balkanista!
