Ksamil on the Albanian Riviera: Albania Part 1

The Ferry from Corfu and a Stress Free Introduction to Albania

06-June-2019

Corfu to Saranda Ferry and on to Ksamil

After breakfast we trundled our cases through the whole length of the ferry port..

Trundling our suitcase through Corfu ferry port

The port is busy, passenger and car ferries leave for various Greek islands and cities, including Athens via the Corinth Canal, for Barri and Brindisi in Italy, and for other destinations. Saranda in Albania was the only route going outside the Schengen Area, so we had to make our way to customs and passport control in the port’s farthest, darkest corner.

The formalities were straightforward and we left on time at 9am.

Leaving the dock, Corfu

The strait between Corfu and Albania narrows to a little over 2km, but Corfu City to Saranda is nearer 20km, a journey the hydrofoil completes in under the hour.

Corfu to Saranda

We headed north along the coast of Corfu...

The hazy coast of Corfu

...and once beyond its northernmost point we were almost immediately entering the bay of Saranda, the blue sea surrounded by a horseshoe of green hills. Saranda’s white buildings have crept ever further upwards as the town has developed as a holiday resort.

Entering Saranda

Albania

The crossing took less than no time, literally, as we left Corfu at 9.00 and disembarked in Saranda at 8.40. It is not the first time on our travels we have found ourselves putting our watches back while travelling east, it feels strange but most of Greece, if not Corfu, is east of Albania so it is not unreasonable for Greece to be in a later time zone.

Disembarking at Saranda

We were met by a driver who took us to the smaller resort of Ksamil, 15km to the south. Ksamil lies on a peninsula (see map above), the body of water on the landward side being called ‘Lake’ Butrint, though the water is brackish and has an outlet to the sea - like a Scottish sea loch, only blue. We drove several miles along the beautiful lakeside, passing numerous mussel beds.

Ksamil, First Steps

We reached Ksamil, turned off the main road and drove through and almost out of town before reaching the Hotel Luxury.

The Hotel Luxury, Ksamil

The friendly receptionist checked us in immediately, offered us a second breakfast and gave us a room with a balcony overlooking Paradise Beach – one of many in Ksamil.

Paradise Beach, Ksamil from our balcony

We were not seriously tempted by a second breakfast, but coffee and a cake seemed appropriate, by Greek time if not Albanian.

Needing money, we asked the receptionist about an ATM. There were two in Ksamil, she told us, opposite each other on the main road a twenty-minute walk away.

Strolling back through the small town was pleasant and gave us an opportunity to check out the restaurants. Albania may not be the poorest country in Europe, Moldova (we visited last year) and Ukraine vie for that honour, but it is only a little richer. The streets of Ksamil did not look particularly prosperous, but neither did they look poverty stricken; the shops and the state of the road and buildings reminded us of the Algarve thirty years ago – an impression reinforced by the prickly pears and bougainvillea.

The streets of Ksamil (photographed next day, but they don't change much)

Outside our chosen ATM was a rosemary hedge. In less affluent countries ATMs usually have a security guard, often they are elderly, eking out whatever pension they may or may not have. Rarely do they look the sort of person you would find reassuring in the event of a violent mugging, but as they seldom, if ever, have to do anything it hardly matters.

Central Ksamil - the ATM is on the main road 10m behind the camera

The very typical security guard saw us put our hands into the hedge. He smiled and made plucking and rubbing gestures, but there was no need we were ahead of him and the savoury fragrance of rosemary accompanied us into the ATM booth. As we emerged a few minutes later equipped with tens of thousands of lek (Albania is a cash economy and £1 buys 140 lek) the guard approached us and presented Lynne with a sprig of rosemary he had cut for her.

We had not known what to expect in Albania. Thirty years ago it had been as isolated as North Korea (we visited there in 2013), the first decade of democracy was blighted by a pyramid selling scandal which cost Albanian citizens US$1.2 billion (an average of $400 each) and led to the brink of civil war, and the only Albanians who make the news at home are involved in organised crime. On the other hand, the taxi driver who brought us to Ksamil was smiley and welcoming, the hotel receptionist had been friendly and helpful and now a security guard, a man old enough to have been an adult under the repressive regime of Enver Hoxha, was giving us a present. The real Albania was turning out to be a delight [and remained that way for the rest of our stay]

On the way back we bought a bottle of ouzo, not very Albanian maybe, but Greece was close by, it was readily available (which it isn’t at home), it was cheap (which it isn’t at home) and we had the perfect balcony for drinking ouzo in evening sunshine.

oo000oo

06-June-2019 and 07-June-2019

An hour by hour account of our activities in a resort designed for inactivity would be dull, so here are the memorable bits.

Light Lunches

We had two lunches, one a Greek style snack in a beach café where a bottle of Tirana beer (a competent if uninspiring ‘pilsner’) cost 300 lek, the other a shared pizza in town where beer cost half as much.

A snack and a beer, Paradise Beach, Ksamil

On the Beach

We indulged in the obligatory lounge on the beach, surrounded by Russians…

Lynne's toes and some Russians, Lori Beach Ksamil

…and I went for the equally obligatory swim. I must admit that in recent years I have become a warm water swimmer, happy enough ploughing up and down a lane at Stone Leisure Centre or wallowing in the balmy waters off Langkawi, but I have not seriously threatened the wet end of an Algarve beach in the last three or four visits. The Mediterranean looked invitingly clear and blue, but this early in the season it was not particularly warm. Waist deep, I found the cold uncomfortable and I was unsure whether to continue. ‘You have nothing to prove,’ I told myself.

Shall I have a swim, or hail that taxi? Lori Beach, Ksamil

At that point friend and former colleague Anne swum into my mind’s eye. Earlier this year her daughter travelled to Murmansk as part of the British team for the world ice swimming championships (and yes, that does say ICE swimming). Anne went along for the ride - only she went ice swimming too and even took part in a competition (she appears in this You Tube video). Ice swimming is obviously barmy, but it is a magnificent barmy and if Anne can swim in an ice hole, surely I can manage the Mediterranean.

Easy really, Lori Beach, Ksamil

Yes of course I can, and it was pleasantly warm once I had taken the plunge.

A Short Walk out of Town

We admired the Albanian habit of putting colourful pots of colourful plants along walls and, in this case, up stairs...

Colourful pots, colourful plants

...and took a walk up the little road out of town, where we were greeted by every one of the locals we passed. We went far enough to look back over Ksamil.

Ksamil

The road was lined with farms and small-holdings. Some of the dwellings looked basic, and farming methods antiquated….

I have not seen hay in stooks like that for many years, Ksamil

…while other had large and prosperous looking houses…

A more prosperous looking farmhouse, Ksamil

…and strutting, self-appointed guardians.

Guard hen, Ksamil

Ksamil Mosque and Orthodox Church

On our way back we heard a call from the mosque. We did not search for Ksamil’s mosque but we did catch a glimpse as we went for dinner. It has a pencil slim minaret, typical of the Balkans.

Minaret and dome of the Ksamil mosque

Nearby is the Greek Orthodox church. Enver Hoxha tried to make Albania an atheist state, in the 1970s all places of worship were closed and practicing religion was a punishable offence. The current democratic constitution permits freedom of religion and the secular government stays out of religious matters. In the 2011 census 58% said they were Muslim, 17% Christian (10% Catholic, 7% Greek Orthodox) and the rest non-religious. These figures probably underestimate the Greek Orthodox population which may be double the census figure. Here in the south, many people are of Greek descent and the Orthodox Church is particularly strong. Either way, 68% of Albanians say their religion, if they have one, is not particularly important in their lives.

Greek Orthodox church, Ksamil

Dinners in Ksamil, Octopus and Mussels

Both evenings, after a glass of ouzo on the balcony, we set off about 8 o’clock to find a restaurant for dinner. On the way we paused to watch the sun set into the Mediterranean.

A Ksamil sunset

The first evening we dined on octopus, the tender, mild flavoured tentacles grilled to perfection…

Grilled octopus and mixed salad, Ksamil

…and on the second, mussels like those we had spotted earlier growing in Lake Butrint. The local method is to cook them in the oven. The sauce is based on wine, herbs and garlic, like moules marinière (no, moules marinière does not involve cream, regardless of what Rick Stein, Raymond Blanc and any other culinary luminary may say*) though with the addition of green peppers and a little tomato. Mussels and sauce were both excellent.

Mussels, Albanian style, Ksamil, (I should point out this is a dish for two)

Albanian cuisine has three main influences, Italian (our pizza lunch, the balsamic dressing on the salads) Balkan (grilled meats predominate inland) and, particularly here, Greek (Tzatziki and feta are ubiquitous). I love baklava and had just enough space after the mussels. It was a great disappointment, dry and overcooked, but whether that was the restaurant or the way Albanians eat their baklava I do not know.

Wine was a little disappointing too, no wine lists, just carafe wine - a litre is too much, half a litre too little – but cheap enough and Italian in origin.

Not a disappointment was raki, the appropriate end to every Albanian dinner. Usually distilled from grapes (other fruits can be used) it is a colourless spirit that hovers somewhere between regular brandy and pomace brandies (marc/grappa/bagaceira etc). It has a rough, raw, alcoholic flavour and is usually sold at 40% (higher is possible, particularly in the homemade versions). The regulation 5cl measure (a British ‘double’, though a British single is merely a wet glass) is available in every restaurant for around 70p. We loved it.

*I refer you to Larousse Gastronomique as the ultimate authority

Albania

Part 1: Ksamil on the Albanian Riviera
Part 2: Butrint and the Blue Eye
Part 3: Gjirokastër
Part 4: Berat
Part 5: Tirana
Part 6: Tirana to Saranda
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Corfu City

Corfu City

A Too-Short Visit on a Drizzly Afternoon

Arriving in Corfu

Greece

Corfu

Leaving home just after 4am, we caught the 7.45 flight from Birmingham, arriving in Corfu 3½ hours later at 13.15 (local time). We were picked up by a taxi driver whose name may or may not have been Spiros and taken to our hotel via the offices of a ferry company where we collected our tickets for tomorrow.

Between checking-in and departing for Albania at 9 next morning we had time to investigate the island’s capital – a cursory glance maybe, but long enough to realise it deserved more.

Corfu, with abundant cheap tourist flights, is ideally placed for a tour of southern Albania

Lunch in Corfu

After taking some pictures of the ferry port from our hotel window…

We have to walk down there to find the ferry for Albania tomorrow morning

...we went to find a late lunch. Lynne had never been to Greece before and my experience was limited to a day in Athens in 1966 (I was 15), but with a basic knowledge of Greek food and expecting multi-lingual menus on a holiday island it seemed – and indeed was - a simple task.

I picked stuffed vine leaves and Lynne chose pork doner kebab in pita bread – the chips were not mentioned on the menu. The café owner talked us into sharing a dish of tzatziki with excellent crusty bread and then suggested we try the more expensive Corfu beer. This enthusiast run micro-brewery opened on the island in 2006 and produces a wide range of beers. Their (darkish) pilsner was seriously good; had we been staying longer we would have tried more.

Dolmadaki, tzatziki and gyro, Corfu

Corfu: A Walking Tour in the Rain

We then set off on a walking tour. In June, sunshine and a temperature of 28º would be typical, we got rain and 23º - oh, well.

With Old Corfu City a UNESCO World Heritage site and the island’s tourism industry thriving we would have expected some immunity to the financial woes that have beset Greece for the last decade, but the town looked a bit down at heel. Grass grew through cracks in the pavement and the road to the ferry port had a number of derelict buildings.

That said, there are several pleasing parks and in one purple bougainvillea nodded above a dozen tables with chess boards. Nobody was playing – but who plays chess in the rain?

Chess boards beneath the bougainvillea - and the rain - Corfu

Venetian Corfu

The Old and New Forts

The city has two forts, an old one by the sea…

Corfu's Old Fort

…and a new one on the hill behind.

Corfu's New Fort

Both were built by the Venetians in the 16th century, the ‘New’ Fort being barely 30 years younger than the ‘Old’ Fort. I only noticed the Venetian Lion of St Mark over the gate to the New Fort in the evening as we walked back to our hotel after dinner.

Venetian Lion of St Mark over the entrance to the New Fort, Corfu

After the usual shifting loyalties of antiquity, Corfu became part of the Byzantine Empire, forming a strategic link between its east and west. As the Byzantine Empire started to fade the Venetian Republic took over, ruling the island from 1386 until Napoleon destroyed the power of Venice in 1797. The rest of Greece, meanwhile, was under Ottoman rule. Although the Ottomans tried hard to take Corfu in the 16th century – hence the two forts – they were repulsed.

The old town has tall buildings and narrow passageways in typical Venetian style. It is all pedestrianised but as some streets are too narrow for cars…

The narrow streets of the old city, Corfu

…and others have too many steps there is little choice.

Street in the old city, Corfu

Exploring the narrow streets and looking at the many shops we found much we would have liked to buy and take home – mostly food and drink – but this was the first day of our travels and we were reluctant to cart our trophies all the way round Albania and back.

Narrow shopping streets in Corfu

Corfu After the Venetians

After the Venetians' demise Corfu became a Departement Français, then briefly the capital of the self-governing federation of the Ionian islands under Ottoman suzerainty, and then French again. After the defeat of Napoleon, the Treaty of Paris (1815) created the United States of the Ionian Islands under the protection of the United Kingdom.

Corfu As a British Protectorate

The United States of the Ionian Islands

The British stayed in Corfu until 1864, the High Commissioner residing in Corfu City. During this time the British built new roads, improved the water supply system, upgraded the French founded Ionian Academy into Greece’s first modern university and made Greek the official language.

They also left some neo-classical buildings around the huddle of the old Venetian town, including the Palace of Saints Michael and George, now Corfu’s highly regarded Museum of Asian Art.

The Museum of Asian art, Corfu

Cricket is another legacy of British rule. The game is largely unknown in the rest of Greece, but the Hellenic Cricket Federation (based in Corfu) organises a Greek national championship involving 20 clubs, almost all of them from Corfu. The island is also an understandably popular venue for tours by clubs from more established cricket playing nations. The grassy expanse of Spianada Square facing the Museum of Asian Art is maintained as a cricket ground.

Spaniada Square, Corfu. A matting wicket and an outfield ready for the mower

Meanwhile on the Mainland

While the Corfiotes were peacefully learning cricket, Greece was busy removing the Ottomans. By 1828 the fighting was mostly over and Ioannis Kapodistrias, a Corfiote (we had landed at the airport named after him) became the first head of state of a modern independent Greece. Kapodistrias was assassinated in 1831 and the Conference of London was hastily convened to ensure Greece had a stable government and internationally agreed borders. Greece, the Great Powers (Britain, France and Russia) decided, should be a monarchy and they offered the throne to Prince Otto of Bavaria (why? search me, but spare German princelings were fashionable in the 19th century).

Newly independent Greece, much smaller than modern Greece, was anxious to acquire those surrounding territories traditionally inhabited by Greeks, including Corfu and the other Ionian Islands. Britain had no problem with this in principle, but developed major problems with King Otto, so hung on until Otto was deposed in 1862 and the Greek National Assembly obediently elected Prince William of Denmark to be the next king.

Corfu Becomes Part of Greece - Links with the British Royal Family

Greece received the Ionian Islands as a coronation present when Prince William of Denmark became King George 1 of Greece (why George? Dunno). George I would become the grandfather of Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh.

Greece as it was in 1832, and how it became what it is now
Thanks to Wikipedia, Adam Carr and Dr Kay

The Duke of Edinburgh was born on Corfu in 1921, in Mon Repos, a villa just too far away for us to walk in the rain, not that there is anything to see. How this grandson of a Greek King and great-grandson of a Danish King became an officer in the British Royal Navy and married the heir to the British throne is another story.

The Durrells and St Spyridon

I am surprised to have persevered this far without mentioning ‘The Durrells’ other than an oblique reference in paragraph 1. Based on Gerald Durrell's Corfu Trilogy it was undemanding, feel-good Sunday evening viewing, I may have watched all 26 episodes over the last four years. Spiros, the taxi driver who takes the Durrell family under his wing after their arrival on Corfu, was played by Alexis Georgoulis. It was a nuanced performance giving Spiros humanity, compassion and the ability to be spun round by his own moral compass. In the 1987 version called, like the first book in the trilogy, My Family and Other Animals, Spiros was played by Brian Blessed – a national treasure, perhaps, but a total stranger to ‘nuance.’ My memory of the book is that Spiros was closer to the Brian Blessed version, but as I read it the early 60s, my memory may be unreliable.

And that paragraph was prompted by catching sight of the bell tower of the Church of St Spyridon down a narrow alley.

The bell tower of St Spyridon's, Corfu City

St Spyridon, as Spiros tells the Durrells, is the patron saint of Corfu and that Spiros is (or was then) the commonest boy’s name on the island.

Outside St Spyridon's, Corfu City

St Spyridon was born around 270 in Cyprus. He was a shepherd until his wife died, then went into a monastery where he worked his way up, becoming a bishop and playing an important part in the Council of Nicaea (325). He is credited with several miracles and died in Cyprus in 348. He never visited Corfu during his life. When the Arabs took Cyprus his body – which was found not have decayed (another miracle) - was taken to Constantinople, and when that fell to the Ottomans in 1543 he was moved to Corfu, where he is credited with expelling the plague from the island and defending it from the Turks – quite a trick from beyond the grave.

His body, which appears to have undergone natural mummification, lies in a chapel to the right of the altar. Hemmed in by other buildings, a satisfactory photograph of the outside is impossible, while photographs of the inside are forbidden and St Spyridon is closely watched. He features prominently in an early anecdote in My Family and Other Animals so I wanted a photo, but I had to settled for a good look and I have ‘borrowed’ a picture from his own website.

St Spryidon in his casket

Edward Lear

Making our way back to the seaward side, we came across the residence of Edward Lear. Best known now as a nonsense poet, Lear was also a traveller, artist and illustrator. Corfu was his winter base from 1855, through the final years of the British Protectorate and after until he finally moved to San Remo in 1870. According to the plaque he spent part of that time in this house – I think the graffiti is later.

Edward Lear's residence, Corfu

That was the end of our walking tour, though we did stroll down to the ferry port to see how long the walk would take in the morning (about 15mins).

Dinner in Corfu

Being in Greece it seemed appropriate to go out about 8 o’clock for a glass of ouzo – the lovely little appetizer, cheese, olives and ham came gratis.

Pre-prandial ouzo, Corfu

We then headed for a restaurant we had ear-marked earlier. Ordering grilled squid we asked about bottled wine as the menu only offered carafes. For a steep €25 we were offered a Malagouzia from Monemvasia in south-east Greece. Malagouzia is a Greek variety once thought extinct that has grown in popularity since its rediscovery in the 1970s. A fully dry, clean and well-made wine it had an austerity that made up for acidity lost to the southern sun. Usually described as ‘floral’ it did not seem that to us, but then floral would not suit squid. An unusual wine to our palates, but a perfect partner to a perfectly grilled squid.

As fine a grilled squid as one could wish for, Corfu

Albania

Part 1: Ksamil on the Albanian Riviera
Part 2: Butrint and the Blue Eye
Part 3: Gjirokastër
Part 4: Berat
Part 5: Tirana
Part 6: Tirana to Saranda

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Corfu: A Fleeting Visit