Albania and the Whispers of the Past! 🇦🇱
Written by Samuel Borges
September. 2023. 01h00.
The plane carrying me finally rests on the runway.
“Welcome to Tirana! “, announces the pilot.
Alex Silva, my travel partner, and I roll our suitcases toward the heart of Albania’s capital, still a strange city just a few weeks ago when we booked the flights.
I recall the look of surprise that spread across people’s faces whenever I mentioned my next destination.
“Why Albania???”, the curious would ask.
I longed to satisfy their curiosity. Yet eloquence seemed to hide beneath my tongue, and all I could ever say was:
“Why not Albania?”
Friends and family dismissed the doubt citing the Albanian mafia, the only thing they knew about the country. 🔪
If You Wish to Know Me! ©
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Available Soon!
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If You Wish to Know Me! © 📚 Available Soon! 🔥📢
At the airport, we rented a car and headed toward the hotel.
Our vision was reduced to the potholes lit by the headlights.
The streets — dark and deserted — seemed to host stray dogs every kilometre. Angry barks echoed in our ears, making it clear: we weren’t exactly welcome!
A strange feeling crept over me.
I looked at Alex.
Alex looked at me.
We didn’t exchange a single word.
Both my friend and I read each other’s thoughts.
Those roads felt like the opening scenes of a horror movie, and if a villain were to appear, the same tragic fate awaited us.
After all, we were at the edge of Europe, in the darkness of Albania, land of the infamous mafia.
It was the first of two moments when we questioned our choice.
🟠
It's my first Ebook!
🛒💳
Working tirelessly to translate it!
🟠 It's my first Ebook! 🛒💳 Working tirelessly to translate it!
The second moment came at the hotel reception.
A narrow corridor had barely allowed our car through.
With the vehicle parked, the light from our phones guided our steps toward a pool nestled between two buildings.
The one on the left led us to a sad party hall — as all party halls are when stripped of laughter and dancing feet.
The other building led us to the reception — nothing more than a small desk with papers, pens, and an old telephone.
Emptiness sat on the other side of the counter.
Alex remembered to call the number from the booking.
As his thumb tapped the iPhone screen, the antique phone in front of us began to vibrate.
That’s when we heard the grunts.
Moments later, shaken from sleep and carrying the mood of someone pulled out of a dream too soon, a middle-aged man — with the same stern features as the mafia men we’d seen in movies — growled some indecipherable words in what sounded like a language pulled from a fantasy film.
The brief but strangely long interaction that followed — between two young Portuguese guys and an old Albanian man — put me to bed with more doubts than ever.
“What kind of lunatic comes on holiday to Albania?”, I asked myself as I relived our first few hours in Tirana.
It won’t be long before you're hooked on the love story of Isaac and Maria do Carmo!
🥰
It won’t be long before you're hooked on the love story of Isaac and Maria do Carmo! 🥰
The break of day lit us up with certainty.
As we walked through the vibrant Skanderbeg Square, a tribute to the national hero, the eyes of pedestrians fixed on us.
But the Albanians weren’t judging us.
Their looks were generous and welcoming, yet filled with the same doubts:
“What are you guys doing here?”, those gazes seemed to ask.
Something about the sight of two Black men walking Tirana’s streets, I realized later, seemed to them like a mirage—something they’d thought unattainable just a few years ago.
The discovery came at Bunk’Art, an old bunker turned museum that immersed us in Albania’s political and social history.
The territory had once belonged to the Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman empires, gaining independence from the latter in 1912, the year the Republic of Albania was founded.
The outbreak of the two World Wars shortly after saw the land invaded once again, this time by Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany.
The end of World War II installed the paranoid Enver Hoxha in power, who, given the country’s history, prepared it for a future invasion.
Hoxha’s regime—a far harsher copy of the Estado Novo (the authoritarian regime that ruled Portugal from 1933 to 1974) —built 170,000 bunkers stretching from the majestic Albanian Alps to the stunning beaches of the Albanian Riviera.
The communist regime that ruled the nation for much of the 20th century broke all ties with external allies, banned jeans and beards, and forbade Albanians from traveling.
The country, much like North Korea today, froze in time until the dictator’s death in 1985.
Interestingly, the power vacuum and economic collapse following the fall of communism gave birth to the famous Albanian mafia. 🔪
Isaac, a hopeless romantic!
🔥
Maria do Carmo, disconnected from life!
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Isaac, a hopeless romantic! 🔥 Maria do Carmo, disconnected from life! ❤️
The Albania I came to know is a country wounded by a past of foreign domination and subsequent isolation, which made it distrustful.
The Albania I came to know is a poor country, still marked by the vivid memory of the jammed boats of emigrants crossing the Adriatic, arriving at their destination with nothing but the clothes they were wearing and the dream of a better life — A copy of my two beloved countries 🇨🇻🇵🇹
But the Albania I came to know is also the same one that fought and prevailed over Ottoman rule, the same one that survived isolation and political repression, the same one that now faces the future with hopeful eyes.
It is made of resilient men and women proud of their homeland.
This connection can be seen in the flags scattered all across the country. 🇦🇱
Every ten minutes, the black two-headed eagle on a deep red background waved the country's unity in the air. 🦅
📜 Emotional Veredict:
🕰️ Delayed Amazement!!
🗣️ Country that doesn't yet shine as brightly as it could, but that filled me with high hopes for the future 🔜
But the trip was more than just words and thoughts!
🎞️
Enjoy the pictures and videos!
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But the trip was more than just words and thoughts! 🎞️ Enjoy the pictures and videos! 📸
Explore more clicking the images below 👇🏾
The opinions expressed here are points of view, not periods. ⚠️© 2025 Samuel Borges.
All rights reserved.
