The Beginning of the Adventure
Our latest, and by some measures our greatest, adventure, is highly likely to be the last of such magnitude in our lifetimes. The lack of a desire to repeat the adventure does not, however, diminish the joy, discovery, and pleasure we had in the experience. We journeyed 9,024 miles by sea and 15,157 by air, completely circumnavigating the planet over the course of 35 days. We fell only slightly short, by 720 miles to be exact, of the actual circumference of the Earth, which is 24,901 miles, due to aircraft flying the “Great Circle” as opposed to directly point to point. Regardless, our journey of 24,181 miles is still significant and one for our record books to be sure.
As is almost always the case, our adventure started at Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport in Atlanta, consistently the world’s busiest, as measured by passenger traffic. Yes, it is a mouthful of a name, but there has been a recent kerfuffle over folks not saying the ENTIRE name of the airport, so far be it for me to be “disrespectful” by shortening it. We met my parents in the Delta Sky Club on the new and relatively luxurious F concourse, by name the “international” terminal, but make no mistake, plenty a flight to quite domestic destinations, “Kansas City now boarding at gate F3,” are served from this half-length addition. We greatly enjoyed the upgraded food now provided in the Sky Club and eagerly discussed the hurdles of getting to the starting point, which for us consisted of picking up last minute medications on the way to the airport, as well as the adventures ahead.
We boarded our Delta Boeing 747, an aircraft we both adore but which is headed the way of the dinosaur due to the massive fuel consumption required to run the four engines as opposed to aircraft with equal, and even greater, range that operate with half the engines and which take advantage of new composite materials, much lighter and stronger than traditional aluminum and titanium, that further reduce fuel costs and therefore maximize profits. While Mom and Dad prefer the lower deck to avoid the stairs, we greatly enjoy the seclusion and privacy of the upper deck, with only 14 seats and two flight attendants. In addition, in my opinion, the Delta One seats on the 747, unique in the fleet, are the most comfortable of all the options, so I was delighted to have this equipment for the first leg of the trip, Atlanta to Amsterdam Schiphol International Airport.
Amsterdam
We’ve been through this airport more times than I can count and it was a simple lay-over waiting for the short flight to Venice. The airport is huge and very busy all the time but it is so large and well laid out that you never really notice how packed it is, except when jockeying for a seat in the lounge! Our flight was late departing because we had no pilots as their incoming flight was late. No pilots, no flight, so no choice but to wait. When we did depart, the flight was under two hours, which is a great thing about intra-Europe flights, about the longest it is even possible for it to be is 4 hours and that only if headed into Moscow. Otherwise most every destination is 2 hours or less.
Venice
Landing in Venice was uneventful but it was my first time in a water taxi! I had arranged for a pick-up at the airport but of course didn’t check to see what that involved. I had originally moved away from the Hilton property because it was on an outer island and I didn’t fancy trying to carry a month’s worth of cruise luggage, including formal wear, on and off a small boat. I had mistakenly assumed that an airport pick-up meant a car. I should have checked on this because I was soon to discover that there just aren’t any cars in the center of Venice.
We went out to the water-taxi stand, vaperettos I believe they are called, and we waited while our pick-up person negotiated something, seemingly endlessly. Welcome to Italy where very little happens quickly. Eventually we did all get on the small speed boat, somehow including all of our assorted baggage with nothing taking an unexpected dip in the lagoon. The trip into the hotel, which was located immediately adjacent to St. Mark’s Square, the center of town, was quick and the views couldn’t be beaten. I didn’t really understand the concept of Venice I guess until I arrived by boat. The city is built on islands, a few of them connected by bridges, so boats are just a fact of life to get most anywhere. Yes, there are gondolas but they are clearly only for tourists as residents use small motor boats to move about. We were lucky in our visit in that it wasn’t high tide nor had there been a storm so nothing was flooded.
Our hotel, Hotel Concordia, was a delight. It was very close to the water taxi landing station and literally behind St. Mark’s Square such that the back windows overlooked the Square. While we didn’t have one of those rooms, and I am glad we didn’t just for noise reasons, it was truly a matter of less than 2 minutes to get out to the Square. St. Mark’s Square and the cathedral are a huge draw for every visitor to Venice but we just used it as a transit way to the post office more than anything else. Yes, the cathedral is stunning, even just from the outside, but honestly at this point I have seen a lot of cathedrals and I find that I am much more interested in the small side streets and the unexpected finds as opposed to the thing, or things, that everyone is there to see. Somehow I found it charming in a weird way that even in 2015 in Venice people are still hanging their clothes out on lines that stretch from building to building, ensuring conversation with real people out of windows instead of with relative strangers through Windows courtesy of MicroSoft.
We wandered the small, very small, streets at total random figuring that eventually we would end up back somewhere we recognized or needed to be by default since at some point you will fall in the water if you go too far. We wandered over foot bridges, although not the Bridge of Sighs, and looked in normal everyday stores as opposed to those selling Murano glass and other items intended strictly for tourists. The only thing I bought in Venice was a postage stamp for a letter on hotel stationery to a friend and three sticks of sealing wax and a wax stamper with the initial M. I have come to find out that the Venetian wax, which has no wick, is a great deal easier to use than the wicked version although it does dry quickly, requiring quick sealing action. And the wax embossing stamp is incredible with very deep cut engravings that create a nice high relief seal, much better than most anything I have found in the United States. Spoiler alert: I have additional Venetian wax arriving tomorrow via UPS from Venice. Yeah, I like it that much.
Our day in Venice happened to be Tim’s 49th birthday. He turned 49 somewhere over the North Atlantic in flight. To honor the day we had a nice dinner at a small quiet place in Venice, although honestly, Italian food can be a bit of a challenge for a guy who hasn’t eaten more than 20 grams of carbohydrates in one day in about five or so years. That sort of discipline, however, is why Tim is in better shape than either one of has been since maybe our respective 20-something days, and I wouldn’t count on that being true of either of us for all of our twenties. For 49, Tim looks pretty darn amazing, and no, I am not a bit biased!
My birthday gift for Tim was late as it was coming, unknown to me, from the United Kingdom. It is a customized world map jigsaw puzzle that portrays the world as it was in 2004, our year of courtship (February to November, I moved in December). The only difference I noted was that South Sudan didn’t officially exist yet. But around the border it lists significant happenings of the year, including the South Asian tsunami (we watched in on TV in a Texas truck stop Subway on the way driving my belongings from California to Georgia) and the introduction of Facebook. I was stunned that something as ubiquitous today as Facebook, even though I don’t and won’t get near it, is no older than our relationship. Maybe we have been together longer than it feels to me. As I am generally pretty happy in my life it seems like only days ago that we started out together. I can live with that.
To the Ship, MS Ryndam
To get to the ship the following day we had to take a boat again to another landing station where we met a pre-arranged mini-van. Honestly, four adults with luggage for 35 days, and remember the formal wear which alone fills a medium Briggs-Riley suitcase, barely fit into any car on the road in Europe. When American car makers tell you they can’t make a small car that is stylish and that people want to drive, they are counting on you not going to Europe to see the contrary for yourself. Of course, when GM and Ford say they can’t make a car or truck that runs on natural gas, they are also counting on you not going to Brazil where such vehicles are the norm. Given that less than half of all United States citizens eligible for a passport have one, it seems like maybe a safe bet.
We really were gouged though. The trip to the cruise terminal lasted maybe five minutes in the car but we were charged a full €100! Yes, it was robbery but we couldn’t find anyone who would do it for less. Realistically, everyone knows when a ship with over a thousand passengers is arriving or leaving and they know they can command the moon and the stars from people who have no other options.
Most of the passengers were already on board when we arrived but we still had the distinct pleasure of making people waiting in line quite angry, along with provoking questions of “Who the hell are those people?” when we whisked past everyone to the front of the line due to our priority boarding privileges associated with being in a Neptune Suite, the top of the line cabin on the ship. Oddly, when we checked in we were asked if we were contractors. No, we are just passengers, promise.
This question would come up again and again from fellow passengers, but we eventually learned what was happening. Granted, we are firmly middle-aged and to a teenager no doubt we are the dictionary definition of “old.” However, on a 28 day cruise on Holland America, we are quite young indeed. And we have very short hair. And our ship was sailing through the waters off the Horn of Africa, which translates to Somalia (actually Puntland is the issue here but I don’t expect most people to be that up-to-date on African political geography so Somalia for sake of common understanding) and that means the very remote potential of piracy. We would also come to find out about surface to air rocket attacks against ships in the Suez Canal, which we also transited. The point is that the ship had hired security contractors and to other passengers, and again this was a question for the entire cruise, we resembled their idea of security consultants. It has to be the hair, really it has to be. Granted Tim is in trim fighting shape, but I am most certainly not. Short hair and under 70 creates suspicion. We were also asked more than once if we were brothers, and we hear that enough at home that it doesn’t surprise us. I think the assumption was furthered because of traveling with Mom and Dad so one could easily assume a family group, and we were. We just occasionally had to clarify that Tim was the son-in-law, which prompted one person to ask where the wife was, presumably the daughter who wasn’t with us and who doesn’t exist in relation to being married to Tim at least. My actual sister, decidedly NOT married to Tim, was at home working just to be clear. We did clarify a couple of times what the relationship was, and while the Australian couple didn’t bat an eye, I have to imagine some of the Fox News crowd was less than thrilled, but I do love a controversy. And it was kind of fun being mistaken for a mercenary soldier. That doesn’t happen every day.
On-Board the MS Ryndam
The cabin was huge as expected and the concierge services in the Neptune Lounge impeccable as always. And yes, it can be fun to play the snob, my Dad especially enjoys doing this all the while laughing at himself uproariously, and the ship makes that easy since your keycard, your passport for everything on board, is a distinct golden color as opposed to everyone else whose card is blue. I especially love that Mom and Dad can do most anything they want because I know how hard they had to work for it. It isn’t just every couple who starts out their married life living in County subsidized housing projects that ends up with the lifestyle they have now. And nobody gave them anything; they pursued their educations, worked hard, saved, invested, and can now enjoy the rewards of their efforts. Bravo to them.
One of the benefits of the Neptune class of cabin is free laundry service, which Tim and I have anyway in any cabin because we are what Holland America refers to as “4-Star Mariners.” The Mariner program is Holland America’s loyalty rewards system and goes from 1-Star which is everyone after the first cruise up to 5-Star which requires 500 cruise day credits. We achieved 4-Star status upon the completion of 200 cruise days. Mom and Dad crossed the threshold while on the cruise as well although the benefits won’t kick in until their next cruise, which they booked on-board, a Baltic cruise very similar to the one Tim and I did a few years ago. Specialty dinners and wine packages are 50% discounted so it really does provide actual value once you reach it. At any rate, with the free laundry we, of course, had too many clothes, but in part we had to account for having clean underwear during the forced lay-over in Singapore, so while we didn’t need it all on the ship we would need it eventually.
Ship board life is a very seductive routine of doing exactly as much or as little as you want, especially on sea days. We travel with Mom and Dad but we are also all very independent. On many days we only saw each other, except for accidental run-ins in what is ultimately a large but still confined and defined space, for pre-dinner cocktails in the Ocean Bar. And even Tim and I don’t have to be attached at the hip if there is something one of us wants to do, or not do, that the other doesn’t care to do. The best example of that is Tim’s insistence on working out in the shipboard gym to “earn his dinner.” Honestly, he works out more regularly while on vacation than he ever does at home. I find it odd but it makes him happy and that’s all that matters.
Unlike the Atlantic Ocean crossings that we do fairly frequently, this cruise had almost 50% port days which was good in the sense that most of the ports were places I wanted to see but on the down side it requires a level of day to day effort that can really exhaust me and drive incredible pain levels. Fortunately for me, there were never more than three port days in a row and I have to say that the third day was always a challenge.
Split, Croatia
The first port was one I was completely unfamiliar with, Split, Croatia. Unlike what it looks like it should sound like in American English, the name of the city bears no real resemblance to cutting anything in half. Rather it sounds more like “shplit.” The major draw for tourists, aside from the stunning natural geographic location on the amazing blue of the Adriatic frequently coupled with white sandy beaches and lots of sunshine, is Diocletian’s Palace. Information about this complex abounds elsewhere so suffice it to say that Diocletian was an Emperor of Rome in the 4th century of the common era, in other words in the 300s, and he had this palace built for his pleasure. Today it has been largely converted into a shopping mall for tourists complete with college age guys dressed up in Roman centurion outfits, which I must say would only require a very slight breeze to expose whatever the Roman’s theoretically wore as underwear. Once you pass through this tourist part however there are other historical ruins including temples and such to help create the illusion of another time and place. Again, we wandered more of the side-streets, managed to become a bit lost, but re-emerged eventually. Split is a city of white limestone buildings with red-tile roofs that make a very fetching visual combination. We had a delightful lunch of fresh seafood, as in the entire fish on the plate as opposed to mystery filets, well outside the tourist core area of kitschy bars and such.
Roman Soldier Reenactors Split
For those who don’t realize it, Croatia is one of the seven independent nations, provided you count Kosovo amongst them, that formerly constituted the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. The other nations that were once part of Yugoslavia are: Slovenia (for a long while the only nation to break away without bloodshed), Bosnia and Herzegovina, Macedonia, Montenegro (remained united with Serbia the longest and was the last to separate), and Serbia, which itself is divided into Central Serbia and Vojvodina. There are significant historical, cultural, religious, and even language differences among the nations of the former Yugoslavia although most of them, with Serbia notably excepted, are rushing towards the European Union with open arms even if the rest of the EU is not quite as enthusiastic. Certainly none of these nations have been inducted into the Euro zone.
Croatia itself is easily separated into two distinct areas; the coastline and the interior. Croatia occupies essentially the entire Adriatic coastline of the former Yugoslavia although Montenegro has a small bit that they exploit in the same way the Croatians do: tourists and especially cruise ship tourists. To be fair, it should be noted that the southern ends of the Croatian coastline doesn’t extend much beyond 50 miles inland, an artifact of what can only be called the theft of all but a very small outlet of what by rights and reason should be the Bosnian and Herzegovina coast. Seriously, if you look at a map you will see what I mean. But I certainly won’t dive into the waters of the breakup of Yugoslavia and all that happened surrounding those times if for no other reason than that I am far from an expert and I leave an explanation and discussion of such to those who have some right to the name.
While the Yugoslavs were not outwardly as closed and oppressive as some of the other more extreme Soviet satellite states in Eastern Europe, they were firmly in the Soviet bloc and while Western visitors were not prohibited they were also not welcomed as independent visitors either. Tourists had to book complete package vacations with the state tourism bureau and standards were never going to run the risk of putting more traditional Western resorts out of business. Over the decades since the break-up of the Soviet bloc, the Soviet Union, and ultimately by bits and pieces, Yugoslavia itself, Croatia has developed tourism heavily as a source of foreign revenue, but I do think that the delayed start has meant that the coast hasn’t yet been completely buried under plastic resorts and casinos. Whatever the socialists rulers of Yugoslavia might be said to have gotten “wrong” they did a fantastic job of preserving the Roman past in part by delaying massive development and that allows us to see and enjoy a great deal today.
While we had a nice time in Split I don’t imagine that we would ever feel the need to return. The day we had was adequate for my level of interest in the city itself.
Dubrovnik, Croatia
Our next port, Dubrovnik, Croatia, was much anticipated by both Tim and I. Dubrovnik is an iconic city for travelers. Prior to arriving there most of what we knew about it, sadly, was gleaned from the several times The Amazing Race, on CBS, has passed through. An example of the classic Adriatic white city with red tile roofs, Dubrovnik did not disappoint. Naturally, we were not the only travelers interested in visiting and the city was notably more crowded than Split had been. Dubrovnik has an incredibly well preserved city wall that is centuries old and in order to enter the old city you actually walk across a lowered drawbridge. These features account for why the television series version of Game of Thrones, a book series written by George R. R. Martin, an American author has been filmed there. I confess that I have read and enjoyed the first few books in the series, but by about Book Four I was completely lost and had completely lost interest in a series that seemed to have abandoned its logical conclusion point and coherent story. Clearly, others disagree. The point is that Dubrovnik has a very medieval feel, or at least it appeals to what modern people imagine a medieval feel might be, absent the overwhelming odors of unwashed people, disease, and human and animal feces mixing in the muddy streets. Somehow, romantics always forget unpleasant and well-known realities of the “good old days.”
Make no mistake, Dubrovnik is a tourist town through and through, so don’t expect much authenticity or much of anything recognizably Croatian, aside from the money. Absolutely don’t attempt to use Euros here as Croatians deem it an insult to their national currency, the Kuna. Besides, it is illegal to trade in Euros in Croatia.
What you can do in Dubrovnik if you have a short amount of time coupled with very good walking legs, is walk the entire top perimeter of the city walls. This isn’t a free endeavor, costing about $20 USD, paid in Kuna of course, and it also isn’t easy as you have to climb up a large number of very narrow stairs, with no handrail mind you, and the entire route is quite long, several miles at least. And you won’t move quickly, rather you will move at the pace of the hundreds of other tourists doing the same thing, all of them, like you, stopping routinely to take photos of the amazing views of both the city and the Adriatic Sea. Oh, and watch out for one of the most accursed inventions of the early 21st Century; the selfie stick. The unaware traveler is highly likely to be bonked in the head by one of these devices, wielded by completely self-absorbed individuals seeking the perfect “selfie photo.” They are so hated that some museums and other locations have outright banned them and I completely applaud that move.
Selfie sticks regardless, walking the city walls will give you, without doubt, the best view both into and out of the city of Dubrovnik. Facing outward is either the incredible blue of the Adriatic or the scrubby hills that surround the town, and facing inward is a sometimes very intimate look into the more mundane life of the residents of the city itself. Apartments with open blinds or curtains are readily viewable along with residents lounging on sofas watching television, eating, cooking, or occupied with other daily tasks or pastimes, all clearly accustomed to being somewhat on display to the thousands who walk by daily. Or, you can observe Croatian education in action as you walked closely by first a girl’s school and later a boy’s. You will also notice that the pristine red tile roofs are a relatively recent renovation because every once in a great while you will spy an older roof, no doubt left over from before the war and not replaced during the Communist era, which will be more black than red and missing many tiles as well. Much has been replaced and renewed in Dubrovnik to accommodate the many who have heard of the city and the many more that have come in recent years for one of the multiple Game of Thrones tours from which you may choose.
When people ask us, “what was your favorite stop on the cruise?” Tim invariably answers Dubrovnik. My answer is more likely, spoiler alert, Muscat, Oman, but I agree with Tim that Dubrovnik was incredible. However, that said, I wouldn’t imagine I would return to Dubrovnik in the future. Well, if the Travelocity Roaming Gnome walks up to me and offers a free trip with spa day included, yeah, OK, I probably won’t poke a sharp stick in his little eye, but if I am seeing and hearing gnomes I probably have bigger problems than whether to take whatever trip the little guy is offering me. Point is, given a free and easy way to go, I would likely go or return to most anywhere! But I am happy with my day in Dubrovnik and I don’t long for more. That said, I am aware that there is a great deal more to Croatia than the much visited coastal cities, and perhaps someday, most likely as part of a river cruise down the Danube, I would like to see the interior of the country, especially the highly rated capital, Zagreb. Part of the attraction of Zagreb is that when I was a child I enjoyed cooking international foods, and there was a cake called a “Zagreb Cake” in one of my cookbooks that I could never master. Perhaps in the city itself I can find it done right, or more likely, it was entirely a fiction created by the cookbook authors, but I prefer my version to the probable truth.
Albania
Our next stop was on the Greek island of Corfu. Corfu is famous among the many Greek islands as being a retreat for the super-wealthy, many of whom have homes there. However, I had zero interest in the island itself once I discovered that taking a hydrofoil to Sarandë, Albania, was an option. I jumped at that chance immediately.
I have a long history with Albania that stretches back to when I was either a pre-teen or early in my teen years. On the advice of a dear family friend, I had undertaken a project to write to the tourism promotion departments of every state and US territory asking for information. Back in the days before this entire sort of thing was done on the Internet, states, and even cities and regions, would send colorful brochures and other literature to you for free for the asking. Once I was finished with the states, I continued on with all the nations, and most of the territories, of the world. I was especially interested in the more isolated countries of that time, for example, North Korea (which, by the way, provided a very nice blue leatherette bound book of blatant propaganda via the Moscow embassy), Mongolia (who subscribed me to a monthly full-color magazine), Vietnam, Libya (in writing to which I pretended to be the child of Libyan immigrants), and Albania.
Albania was for centuries a Greek and then Roman colony. This was followed by domination from first the Byzantine Empire, then by Bulgarian and Serbian control into the 13th century before becoming an isolated outpost of the Ottoman Empire, which it remained until the early part of the 20th century. Independence didn’t come until 1912 but it didn’t last long, ending in 1939 with invasion by Italy, which turned into a Nazi protectorate in 1943. It could easily be said, therefore, that real “independence” didn’t arrive until the formation of the Socialst Republic in 1944 under Enver Hoxha, who would remain in power until his death in 1985. Albania would face enormous challenges and changes with the dissolution of most of the Soviet-influenced Communist world in 1991.
The Albanian people have always been outliers of a sort, in large part due to a language that is not closely related to any other Slavic or even European language which itself creates isolation through lack of common understanding. In fact, Albanian is not even remotely related to ANY other living language and some linguists theorize that it may have evolved from a dialect spoken in Paleolithic times that would pre-date even Archaic or Classical Greek. The evolution of such an isolated language speaks heavily to the geographical and social isolation in which Albanian society and culture evolved.
Albanian society was, and in many ways still is, essentially tribal with very strong clan affiliations that are stronger than any sense of nationalism, although recent times have seen a resurgence of nationalism, especially in relation to Kosovo, which is heavily populated by ethnic Albanians who speak Albanian, as well as due to perceived, likely quite accurately perceived, mistreatment and prejudice against Albanians in Greece.
Albania, at first, was very similar in its governance to the rest of the Warsaw Pact nations of Eastern Europe in being closely aligned with, and in many respects remotely controlled by, the Soviet Union. But by the early 1960s, following the death of Stalin, whom Hoxha greatly admired, and attempted changes to the Albanian industrial and agricultural economies to be imposed by Nikita Khrushchev, significant friction developed and culminated in a complete break with the Soviet Union, exclusion from the Warsaw Pact and COMECON, another economic organization. At this time, to fill the void left by the Soviet economic withdrawl, which had formerly contributed hundreds of millions to the Albanian government, Hoxha turned to Mao in China, exploiting the recent Sino-Soviet split.
Relations with the People’s Republic of China remained strong until a relatively abrupt end occurred in 1978. During the time when the relationship was strong, China contributed heavily to the Albanian economy and to industrial development but never intervened as directly as the Soviets had. The Chinese, unlike the Soviets, never attempted to dictate what the Albanians should produce, what price they would sell it at, to whom they would sell it, and other dictates typical of the Soviet style of working “with” their economic and political “partners” in eastern Europe. Chinese development workers worked for the same wages as Albanians, very much unlike the former Soviet advisers who earned as much as three times more than Hoxha himself was granted as Premier of the entire country.
The abrupt end of Chinese aid and involvement left Albania, for the first time, without a foreign partner or ally. Hoxha had become increasingly oppressive and even arguably irrational over the years, perhaps best exemplified by the declaration of the world’s first officially atheist state in 1967 with the destruction of mosques (Albania was and remains predominantly a Muslim society dating from the Ottoman Empire, another excluding factor among European nations, with no other European country being remotely majority Muslim), churches, and religious texts. Preaching any form of religion, other than Stalinist style veneration of Hoxha earned one a minimum ten-year prison sentence.
In line with such grandiose and irrational behavior, Hoxha declared that Albania would be completely self-sufficient, increasing the nation’s isolation to almost total levels. This unsustainable economic policy led to Albania being the poorest and most socially backward nation in all of Europe. This history of isolation, both economic and social, coupled with hysterically fearful propaganda campaigns regarding outside nations and people, zero human rights or civil liberties, and relentless bloody political purges meant that when Albania began to emerge into the outside world in the early 1990s, it had a great deal of catching up to do, although to its advantage, a history of economic isolation meant that the country had no foreign debt.
However, it is important to realize that no everything during Communist times was negative and some who grew up in and remember those times recall some factors fondly. As our guide pointed out, education was free and universal, everyone had a job, everyone had a home, and everyone had free health care. Closer to home, these are the same benefits that Cubans fear loosing as they have watched what has happened as other formerly Communist nations rushed to embrace the free-market, democracy, and “freedom.” As has been demonstrated, some of those freedoms include the freedom to be unemployed, homeless, and starving. No one can eat “freedom” when they are hungry and the road to finding a balance that satisfies most everyone is incredibly challenging, even in the United States right now.
Today, Albania remains easily one of the poorest nations in Europe and its path to European integration has been rocky economically, politically and socially. However, Albania is now a member of NATO and other western-oriented economic and political alliances and is a candidate for full European Union membership, although that is not expected to occur in the immediate future.
Against this background of rabid isolation, at its peak at the time I was undertaking my information collecting project, contact with Albania was quite a coup, especially for an elementary or middle-school student. My response from Albania was similar to that provided by North Korea, another infamously isolated country with a leader who fomented a cult of personality, although the Albanian version was decidedly lower end, having only slightly heavier paper covers and slightly faded at that. Again, the small book was blatant propaganda but still, it was something that very few other people had, or had even seen. Included with the initial response was, believe it or not, an order form from the state bookstore listing publications available for purchase in English. My Dad was game and wrote a check for what I think amounted to about $12 USD. We went to the Post Office in our small town and spent some time working with the clerk, who had clearly never done such a thing before, in sending a registered letter to Albania. Such a request was not a daily occurrence in our town! It took a bit of time, but eventually the book was received and my Dad enjoyed looking at the returned cancelled check when it arrived from the bank (remember when banks still did that?) to trace some of the route it taken to being cashed in Albania and returned to us.
In some way, greatly inflating the importance of what I had achieved, I thought that perhaps I would become the Albanian version of Samantha Smith, the American girl who had written a letter to Yuri Andropov upon his succeeding Leonid Brezhnev as the leader of the Soviet Union. Andropov famously sent a personal response to Ms. Smith, who was ten years old at the time, which included an invitation to visit the Soviet Union as his guest at the expense of the Soviet government. Of course, she took him up on the invitation and received global attention as a peace activist, although it seems clear to me that whatever else she may have been she was also an unwitting participant in a coup of Soviet propaganda. On the occasion of her untimely death in an airplane crash in her home state of Maine, in 1985, only three years after her letter and trip, the Soviet Union issued a commemorative postage stamp.
Without doubt one intended only for collectors, which never would have been available to the Soviet public, a practice common among all the Soviet satellite states as an important source of foreign currency. Such stamps are frequently “cancelled,” as though used, as part of the printing process, to give a semblance of authenticity, but this practice is easily detected as the water-activated gum on the back of the stamp (remember when you had to lick or otherwise moisten postage stamps?) was always still completely intact. Such stamps are known as “CTO,” meaning “cancelled to order” among collectors and are usually mostly worthless as philatelic material.
The hydrofoil, my first time on such a vessel, took less than an hour to reach Albania, which was clearly visible from Corfu, being closer in fact than the Greek mainland itself. Our destination was the ruins of Butrint, a settlement site that dated as far back as the ancient Greeks that was over time also occupied by the Romans and then continuously by other peoples and cultures into the late Middle Ages when Venetian traders finally abandoned the area. At the height of its prosperity, Butrint achieved the status of a bishopric and the remains of the basilica, including that baptismal fountain, are highlights of any visit. The site was not finally and completely depopulated until well into the 19th century when a defensive fort built by Ali Pasha, the Ottoman ruler of the time, was abandoned.
Although the ruins were well known during the Communist era, and even though they were partly excavated during this time, people were in general kept well away for fear that they would attempt to escape either by land or sea to nearby Greece. Indeed, when in Butrint, Greece is readily identifiable by the large radio tower on the mountain, which marks the border. Today, Butrint is a UNESCO World Heritage site and is therefore monitored, maintained, and supported by international funds. It is rapidly becoming a major tourist attraction, along with the Albanian coastal resorts, which are relatively new and undiscovered having been kept in isolation for such a long time.
I greatly enjoyed my visit to Butrint, as well as a short visit to Sarandë itself for a buffet lunch (the waiter seemed completely baffled by the concept of a tip) and a walk along the corniche. While I was rapidly growing weary of the details about the ruins I was overjoyed simply to be, finally, in Albania, a place I had wanted to see for decades. Perhaps it goes without saying that on my bucket list for travel is a return to Albania to see much more of the small nation, certainly including the capital Tirana as well as the mountain lakes, especially Lake Skadar, on the border with Montenegro to the north, and Lake Ohrid on the border with Macedonia to the south.
By the way, easily the most famous ethnic Albanian in the world was Mother Teresa, after whom the international airport in Tirana is named. Many people have no idea that Mother Teresa was of Albanian origin because of her long association with India and because her origins were certainly never celebrated by a regime that prided itself on its official atheism.
Onward to Arabia
Thankfully, we now would have several days at sea. While I enjoyed the ports of call, I am relatively easily and quickly exhausted. That coupled with a right hip that will be replaced in the next six months all meant that back to back port days presented a challenge.
The journey continues on to Arabia by looking right here…