Two Donkeys and a Moped 3

In addition to the natural splendor, our trip was another lesson in Albanian friendliness. Not only would people respond when offered a wave of the hand, but when meeting another car on the one-lane road, drivers would compete to achieve the honor of allowing the other person to traverse the slightly wider spot between the uneven-wooden fence and the stacks of hay.

Increasing the value of their natural wonders is also a priority here. On the road along the stream, there were several spots where heavy road-making machinery was in use. As we approached, the foreman would order the excavator to move to the side and allow us to pass. A couple times, we had to wait while a couple truckloads of rock were unloaded. We remarked how pleasant it was to see the workmen dressed casually in flowered shorts and flip-flops. Pleasant because we are used to seeing all men, no matter the weather, wearing long pants and gruff expressions at all times. At one point, a metal swinging footbridge crossed to the other side. I stepped daintily across before the boys tried it.

"Look, Mama! I can walk over this hole!"

"Oh, oh, oh!" her voice cracking. "Okay. I guess you can. Now be careful. I think you should—" "Look, Mama, I can walk on this rock!"

"Look, Mama, I can swing on the branch!"

All day Maura had to swallow some of her concern as we chose to allow the 'boys to be boys.' It was great. Another swinging wooden bridge featured a cow calmly chewing in the middle with a countenance of utter contentedness.

After another three hours of travel, we arrived at Valbona, the sight of a communist-era resort district. Now, there are no more than a dozen people living there. Most everything was destroyed in the late 90's during a period of lawlessness that invaded the country. The hotel, which our guidebook says was rebuilt and reopened had holes for windows, crumbling walls, and livestock exploring the bottom floor. We stopped at the restaurant that must employ the whole town, the sign for which featured a scary-looking lamb stretched out over a fire. We netted our fish from a pond and shared out table with roaming sheep and goats.

We returned to the town of Bajram Curri for an evening of cards and story telling. The owner appeared—bad news—he was NOT the man with whom we negotiated earlier. He said that the price was higher than we expected. After a bit of back and forth, our friend Mr. Negotiator appeared—quite drunk and rude. After discerning that this man was no good to us, our school director, Mark, put it succinctly. Motioning to one side of the table, he said, "Okay. Here are the keys," and, motioning to the other, "here is the money. Take it or leave it." We returned to the town near the ferry. In the morning, we would have a short trip to the boat, and we still had time for a couple games of Blockus. We paid 6000 lek. For some pictures of the ferry and of Valbona from 2006, go here:

http://www.gadling.com/2006/07/27/balkan-odyssey-part-10-lake-komani-albania/ http://www.gadling.com/2006/07/28/balkan-odyssey-part-11-valbona-albania/