It's a wanderful life, so it is

The most important rule of travel is to get your bearings when arriving in a new place. For us, this definitley involves finding somewhere to buy Diet Coke for Mhairi’s duty free vodka. Once that’s done, we can start to relax.

When we arrived on Thursday evening, we grabbed some nearby food and drink for the apartment and settled in for a late night of general election fun. I’m no longer a civil servant and I certainly won’t be overly critical of the various Conservative governments during the past 14 years – as that would be completely impossible. By the time Rees-Mogg went at 6am, it was time for bed. With our prayers answered.

We had booked a walking tour for 10am but, as soon as the date for the general election was called, we’d switched this to a much more sensible 2pm start. We had a lie-in and went out to brave the heat. Tirana’s imperial history is written on its streets – empires from Rome, Byzantium and the Ottomans; Independence in 1912; occupation under the Italian Fascists and the Nazis; communist dictatorship and now democracy. Our guide, Eri, brought all this to life with a healthy dose of cynicism and humour and it really does feel that Tirana is a place on the up and up.  

During the day Mhairi and I casually talked about which adventurous restaurant we’d eat in later. Proving that leopards don’t really change their spots, no matter where they are in the world, we’d headed back to our apartment instead. To watch the Euros and have a chinese takeaway for dinner. Eri had said Albanian men are so macho that no one had ever seen one cry in public before but that had all changed after their commendable performance in the Euros, where thousands of them were weeping like babies when they drew with Croatia. Ah, football, there’s nothing quite like it. 

It’s very easy to get about here. We used a convenient Uber-like app that saves you having to repeat an Albanian address in a Belfast accent to a baffled local taxi driver. And for 35 pence each, we hopped a local bus to the cable car on Saturday and went for a walk in the clouds. The cable car took 15 minutes, most of it on the flat and then you suddenly whoosh off into the sky. Great views, of course, but the revolving bar was closed so no circular drinking for us.

Instead, we visited the former nuclear bunker for the Communist leadership. Carved into a nearby hillside, it’s now a history/art installation called BUNK’ART. In 1975, just as disco was becoming an obsession in the West, Albania went bunker-daft. The country’s great dictator, Enver Hoxha, was convinced that the USA (who he thought of as American imperialists) and the USSR (Soviet traitors) would invade the country at the same time. From 1975, 173,371 bunkers were built, around one for every 11 citizens. And, just like disco, the novelty had worn off by the early 1980s and the bunker programme was stopped. Of course, America and Russia had no real interest in invading anyway so, fortunately, they were never used and some have been repurposed.

Sunday was one of those aimless, wandering days in a city. Just walking around, stumbling across things we’d already seen, things we’d missed, new streets that eventually became familiar streets. We did have two specific places to visit. We made a point of taking a photo outside the General Directorate of Taxation. And while they say money can’t buy you love, let me tell you, it can buy you 6 cans of Inch’s cider for about £2 each in a specialist “ex-pat” shop called Baronesha.

I found this a fascinating point in time to visit Tirana, as it transforms itself into a modern European city. I’d love to have a photographer’s eye to capture it better. With more recent investment, you can see the many innovative building designs being added to the landscape alongside those colourful murals. What might the city look like in ten years when that work is all complete and Albania may even be a full member of the EU? I wouldn’t hesitate to come back.