I woke up on the last day of our holiday, to the sun streaming through the crack in the curtains. Opening the door and stepping onto the terrace, birds were singing, the air was crisp, and as I sat down to take care of my morning’s work, I could not help but be distracted by the view in front of me. We took our last stroll down the seafront, stopping to bask in the sunlight and drink coffee. The fishermen were out tending to their boats- repairing, sanding, painting- and groups of elderly men chattered away as they play dominoes and backgammon under the pagodas. The feeling of spring was in the air and this long-awaited sunshine allowed me to discover a whole new range of hues in this incredible landscape- purples and ochres in the hills with white and silver blankets of snow caressing their curves, bright malachite and moss green grass, and the most spectacular icy periwinkle and almost iridescent ultramarine of the watery expanse. Gentle waves lapped the shore and in the morning sunlight the golden sand, dappled with whites and greys of pebbles, looked warm and inviting.
We packed our things, got in the car and headed for Korce. We took a road that cut through the plains of the Pogradec and then a winding road that had carved a way through the rocky mountains and offered the most spectacular views from the top. Here, the towns and villages of Pogradec and Tushemisht were laid out like a map or even a patchwork of colours and shapes, punctuated with brightly coloured buildings, crowned with vibrant terracotta tiles. Every colour present in this landscape is such a contrast but yet comes together to create a vista that is full of vibrancy and life.
We passed over the top of the mountain and headed towards Korce. The Galicia mountain range accompanied us for most of the way, with sheer drops and imposing peaks stretching as far as the eye could see. The road runs through the fertile farmland of Korce country- a place where many make their living from growing potatoes, onions, and beets.
We stopped the car to take a photograph of this building as the bright turquoise roof caught my attention. A place of worship belonging to the Bektashi Order of Islam, they have their headquarters in Tirana and their members are found mainly throughout Albania, but also Anatolia and the Balkans. A dervish order named after the saint Hajo Bektash Veli from Khorasan, it was founded by Balim Sultan and teaches the spiritual beliefs of Bektash as well as drawing significant influence from the Hurufis and the Qalandariyya stream of Sufism, as well as some Shia beliefs that were present in Anatolia during the 14th to 16th centuries. The Bektashi Order is a type of Sufi order and shares much in common with other mystical Islamic movements. Bektashi’s believe in the need for a spiritual guide known as a baba, and the doctrine of the four gates that must be transversed: Sharia, Tariqah, Marifa, and Haqiqah. The order places a lot of importance on the “Unity of Being” as well as the reverence of Ali, The Twelve Imams, and the ritual commemoration of Ashurah.
Korce is an interesting place- wild in a distinctly Albanain way, it reminded me of the last frontier in a cowboy film, but with a distinctly Balkan twist. Both a city and a municipality, the city is home to around 76,000 people spread over 85km2. Located on a plateau, fenced in by the Morava Mountains, it sits about 850m above sea level and is not far from the border with Greece. The area has been continuously inhabited since the Middle Ages and the modern town dates from 1480 when it was ruled over by Ottoman Sultan Bayezid II. Over the years its population flourished as it became home to Muslim Albanians and Korce Aromanians that fleed the forces of Ali Pasha who invaded the town of Moscopole. The Christian population continued to grow and the influence of Greek Orthodox Christianity led to the Greek language being spoken by the social elite of the fledgeling city.
The city was ruled by the Ottomans until 1912 and after the collapse of the Empire, it was supposed to become a part of the Principality of Bulgaria under the terms of the Treaty of San Stefano. Then between 1912 and 1913, whether Korce would become a part of Greece, or remain as a part of Albania was fought over during the Balkan Wars. By 1913, much to the Anger of the Greeks who believed it was a part of a region called Northern Epirus, Korce became a part of Albania. Several years of uncertainty followed with the city being fought over by Greeks, Dutch, and Albanian nationalists. During 1914, it again became a part of Greece and then the French in 1916-1920. Albanian ceta guerilla bands lead by Themistokli Germenji and Sali Butka fought for the Albanian administration of the locality and after several tumultuous years, it was finally in the hands of the Albanians.
Nowadays, the town is busy and bustling- as we walked along the streets, people vied for our attention, market sellers sold their wares in lean-to buildings, and the city was alive. We ventured into the old quarter- a newly restored area comprising of cobbled streets, restaurants and cafes, and shops selling traditional crafts. A very quaint area, it almost looks TOO restored and I cannot help but think that a lot of the original charm may have been lost through this effort to preserve it. It was a beautiful day and we took a seat at a small bar and restaurant and decided to try some of the local cuisines.
We opted for Kenace- a traditional meat “stick” and a speciality of Korce. With bread, potatoes, salad, a glass of local wine and some water, we paid the equivalent of EUR7 for the whole meal. We took a Turkish coffee (my favourite) and sat back and watched the world go by as I devoured the gritty and bitter warmth of the drink. Feeling energetic after the intense caffeine hit, we took a walk through the streets stopping to look at the first school in Albania. Called the Mesonjetorja, it opened its doors on the 7th of March 1887 and was the first educational establishment in the Albanian language but today it is home to the National Educational Museum.
The pedestrianised main street of Korce is an exciting mix of modern art, crumbling colonial style architecture, and trees wrapped in rainbow colours with ribbons fluttering in the breeze. At the top of the street is the Resurrection Cathedral of Korce. Its stones are painted pink, blue and brown and it sits, both imposing and majestic, standing out against the bright blue of the sky behind it.
Feeling tired and weary, and with a three-hour car journey ahead of us, we got in the car and left Korce behind us. I would like to return there another time as I have read that there are a lot of lovely museums and historical sites there that deserve more than a couple of hours of attention. That and the fact that the food was delicious and I want to eat it all over again!
The drive back to Tirana was simply breathtaking. With the afternoon sun making a slow descent across the sky, it was the perfect light to admire the sprawling plains and fields around us. As we made our way out of Korce county and said goodbye to Pogradec, I wanted to take in every moment of the landscape around us. After passing through the greenery of the lowlands, it was time to venture back into the mountains. The winding road took us through red clay hills and carbonite passes and the snaking path of the old railway accompanied us as we twisted and turned through the labyrinthine lands. Every so often, waterfalls would appear amongst the brown and purple foliage, spilling icy water into the valleys below. Vast bridges span breaks in the mountain range, and smallholdings and groups of houses perch in the most unlikely places. The air is fresh and clean but I was lookig forward to getting back to the buzz of the city.
As the familiar peak of Dajti pierced through the last few dying breaths of the golden sunshine, I was happy to be home after a truly wonderful few days exploring the most beautiful and incredible scenery. What I love about the Albanian countryside is the way that it changes its colours and mood with every slight change of the weather. It is a raw and wild place that is almost impenetrable except for the gaze of the people that pass through it. An ever-evolving creature, it offered me many moments of peace, tranquility and awe, many times reducing me to silence.
The only problem is where to go next?
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