#I got a 1991 Coach City Bag for literally like $4

[thatiranianphantom]

But there is no Coach store here! How am I supposed to know if the bags I thrifted for, like, an absolute max of $8 each are authentic?!

[elastigirl72]

Day 20: Herceg Novi>south of Shkoder, Albania

Mountains or coast?

Sometimes and without planning, things just seem to fall into line. I reconnected with my younger brother, Alex, 19 months younger than I, and #4 of 4 siblings born within 5 years to two crazy, outlandish parents. That reconnection in itself is a long story and I won’t go into now. But i regularly work in Norway and by chance, in Alex’s home town where he lives with his wife, Monika and two girls, Emma and Susi. Life and families are complicated but, stars aligned and 25 years or more have passed, and the next time I’m there. I’ll stay and be Auntie Michelle to nieces I love.

Also by chance, the last time I visited, I mentioned to Alex about my planned trip, and where I was heading. He looked at the route and said “I have a friend who has an apartment there. Let me call him”. So he did. It just so happened that Per was happy for me to stop by if it worked in with my plans, even if he wasn’t there. As if by magic, I came through, and it coincided with a rest day. I was met by Lidija, who having checked with me a few days earlier, met me with freshly caught fish, and a potato salad, a bottle of wine of choice (red or white. Or both!), bananas, strawberries picked from her friend’s garden that morning, and a barrel full of conversation. After 3 cups of tea, she left me to indulge in the shower, with shampoo, hair conditioner, body cream, moisturiser, radiators, chocolates a washing machine and a view if it became visible across the whole of Herceg Novi. I have never met Per, and only just met Lidija, who I believed lived in the same road, but in fact had caught a taxi from a nearby village, just to make me feel welcome. I am now so fed and rested, if I don’t do a big week, I’ll go home heavier than when I set off!

This was the shelter in a storm, quite literally. And couldn’t have happened at a better time, at any point during the 3.5 week expedition. How do you show gratitude for such generosity? If I wasn’t already in heaven, to top it off, Lidija returned the next day with home made lunch, and took me on a walking tour of her home town. An amazing woman who is a Tony Robins coach. I am apparently a sun person, and she a moon. I need 20 minutes of sun a day and she needs to sleep. She knew everyone in the town as we walked around. I fell in love with Herceg very quickly.

As the storm passed over during the early hours of the day, I noticed a figure on a rock outcrop, and was sure the silhouetted figure was fishing. Walking along the promenade, I learnt the figure was a statue of a haunting and beautiful woman, a memorial to a lady who was betrothed to a sailor, who went to sea and never returned. For the rest of her days, the lady returned to wait for her love to sail back to shore, and did so until she died. Truly moving and befitting of such a small sanctuary in deepest Europe where most people won’t visit or have heard of.

Every trip I’ve done, I’ve come across incredible, memorable people who have stayed with me since. Mario (Italy 2015), Jonathan and Pete (Canada 2016 and 2018). Sadly, from my first ever trip, in 1991, I met equally kind people who are written in a diary, but long since past. It’s these moments that erase the challenge days and sow a seed deep inside. I hope that I can in turn be so generous and kind.

6th May is a big day, and start to the biggest week, both mileage and climbing but also uncharted waters. I’m a little anxious but at least slightly recovered...if something is going to go wrong, it will be in this next week. So near, yet so far...mountains or coast? Start days early and ride as far as possible?

6 May: Shkoder 1430

After the mountains lit up in a fury of lightening bolts and torrential rain, I felt confident that setting my alarm for 5am was a good decision. Early miles were the plan, and at 7am, although there were still torrents running across the roads, the bay was calm, and I was on my way.

One day’s full rest was telling from the first rotation. I felt great! I was prepared for the intermittent downpours with my new bin bag and trusted shower caps, and knew, come hell or high water, I was crossing into what in my head felt like another continent today but was in fact, just another country, and my 10th on the list: Albania.

You can get to Albania by bike several ways from Montenegro: outright ferry, around a huge bay and up Kotor or a €1 ferry crossing, which takes 10 minutes and provides a panoramic view of the black mountains. I opted for the latter, and sailed my way through towns and up climbs, barely noticing the gentle early headwind, almost a pre-requisite to a ride now. The traffic was less, although I did see an elderly pedestrian spontaneously leap in front of a speeding knackered old VW Mark I Golf...how he wasn’t killed! If it wasn’t suicidal pedestrians, it was motorists pulling out of side roads or shop fronts, almost teasingly to see what a cyclist with right of way might actually do: stop or ride straight into the now stationery vehicle blocking the carriageway because in fact they can’t pull out on to the opposite carriageway anyway. I counted at least 20 stray dogs between Herceg and the border, and now have come to expect them at every turn in the road. I will need to plan my defence strategy as I believe at some point, a dog and I are going to get better acquainted, probably as I find my steepest climb, am tired and can’t escape 😃. I am considering tying a stick to my bike and working out my war cry as I write.

Maybe it’s because I am recharged or maybe it is because even with impending doom looking down on me from the heavens, the green clad mountains that now surrounded me made for yes I know I’ve said it before, an epic day’s cycling. The bin bag and shower cap yo-yo’d in and out of my bag, gaining me much attention in the rural Montenegro countryside as I rode through as the joker on wheels. Here, the people, buildings and cars all changed, decrepit, off the beaten track, and oblivious to style, just functional living: the need for a car, a roof and clothing rang through and any signs of wealth disappeared as I approached the Albanian border. Soaked, I noted that I’d never seen such dark and threatening sky over any mountains. I wondered if the swallows that darted around the road indicated anything, but it was memorable and beautiful.

I’d already fallen in love with the day before I reached Albania, and despite twanging my bad knee before the climb between countries, was prepared to ride on as long as I felt as I did. 😀

And suddenly, surprisingly, Albania! (And another passport stamp 🎊)

Where the tarmac is smooth, the ageing locals ride bikes, the area feels untouched by time or tourism, and the surrounding countryside is jaw-droppingly Jurassic. In 10km I rode past two mosques, minute and not what I expected. Every last morsel of flesh was covered so being a heavily Muslim country, I felt I was being respectful. Motorists gave way, and many people, young and old, even waved, or honked positively. I even got a “go, go, go” from one driver! I wanted to stop and take so many photos, but the ever threatening sky bore down on me and reminded me to keep pedalling.

I barely noticed the city of Shkoder; I was through it so quickly. The driving here made me laugh, as it was chaotic. My lasting memory will be of a very large old lady in her local dress, headscarf and woollen tights, pinned with her bottom just on the edge of the scooter seat, driven by her husband, bouncing off down the road in front of me. I wish I’d got a photo of that, or the old guys on scooters, smartly dressed, but weathered and worn.

Not long after leaving the city limits, I saw lightening ahead and a distant rumble of thunder. It was only 16 miles till my planned stop, and another 56 to Tirana, my stretch goal. I was feeling great. But checking these details and considering my options, I’d stopped right outside a brand new looking spa hotel. I went inside, enquired, and found the room, full spa access, and breakfast would cost €35. I repeat €35! And the possibility of booking a massage. Even with this information, I had to sit down, digest and consider my options: the weather radar, my knee, how good I was feeling...

The weather is looking better from tomorrow, so why push on? I am lying down in my €35 room, snuggled in a huge dressing gown having had a luxury shower and awaiting my massage. I am hoping very much my knee twang isn’t terminal but it doesn’t feel good. But if my journey ends here, I am truly happy. I love Albania, even if I’ve not spent a night here yet. I couldn’t feel more welcome. I hope you can make it too someday...till tomorrow...and decision time; mountains or coast? 🤔