The Trip

Sad, annoying, I become frustrated. Albania seems to be your country. That’s what she says from the pictures. Well it’s what I thought. Two years ago. Now tourists running over this town that used to be so magical. Construction sites everywhere, building up large guest houses, bridges, roads, walls, concrete, concrete, concrete. In the midst of this beautiful paradise of crystal clear water pools, turquoise rivers and splashing waterfalls, icy cold water holes, sources of clear pure life. 

An agitated couple arguing in a mixup of Spanish and English with the cashier in the little shop that is filled up with ice creams, beers, all sorts of snacks and even fruit and vegetables. The young Albanian man behind the counter is indifferent, telling them how to get cash while he’s trying to cheat me for 1000. I ask him for the 1000, he claims I didn’t give them to him. I get serious, talking back to him. With the same indifference in his face, not looking at me he hands me the green 1000 LEK note. The turmoil keeps growing around me as everyone is just arriving from the long trek in the blistering heat, getting ice creams and snacks while the Spaniards keep arguing. My head is exploding. How can tourists be so stupid coming here without cash. Some other guys start asking for cash as well. All day long my rejection towards tourists has constantly been growing. Finding its peak here in combination with the unfriendly young Albanian men who’s only interest is how to make the most out of the tourists. 

Only minutes ago I came back running from one of them who wasn’t capable of any communication, not in my world not in his. These boys throwing me in a Jeep, when I don’t know who they are or where we are going, dropping me off with one of them. Rushing me around, the heat bursting my head, he runs into a house, leaving me there, coming back, running ahead up a hill, I stop, I breathe. I’m mad. I’ve been annoyed, frustrated earlier. Or maybe you’re just hard to handle is the more than elaborated answer to my questions about hiking in the area when I get on the car, not being satisfied with their guidance to the most popular tourist spots that you find on any travel site. I shall take that as a compliment and leave rather sooner than later. He looks at me in disbelief, not understanding. I head back to the center, the shop, the meeting point. 

This is the only thing I will remember from today she says. We’re sitting in front of the shop eating ice cream, drinking beer. When I see her come walking I jump up, to welcome her. It’s encounters like this that make me happy traveling she says. I feel the same. From the last days together she was the one giving me the vibes. Caring, looking out for one another more than the others being mostly concerned with their own well-being like most in this town now. I’m happy I’ve met her. It only needs one person doesn’t it?! I kept thinking. This day gave me the clearest, most beautiful waters, the clarity and peace I love most in the mountains. At the same time it made my heart sink to see this place, that was so magical change into a tourist concrete jungle without heart. I’m happy to leave it behind and having taken the most beautiful parts of it. Time to move on after another breathtaking hike like two years ago in the Albanian Alps. Change. For the better or worse, taking the last waterfall, washing off my sweat, soothing my feet in the cold, a hand reaching out to me to pull me up for the last step. 

45 minutes I listen to her voice, I start crying. Our touch, our connection, so special, her family asking for my well-being, everyone wondering where I am. This never happened before. I wish we could travel together, this short time that we had together it was so rich, so fulfilling, so intense. When you were holding my hand in the car when I dropped you off in Frankfurt, I enjoyed it so much. Not with anyone I usually exchange physical touch and yet with you it just felt right. 

Only one touch. That’s all it takes. Lina you’re so awesome. I hope you recognize this. I haven’t words like this in a long time. Not that touch I’ve felt what feels like centuries. That’s our conversation. So far away this recognition. This attention. Love. I miss it. Deep in my heart. Like the further I go since my heart broke for the last time, the less I feel connection. Because I am not trying anymore. I’m not trying to be recognized for who I am. I’m not trying to get attention for the sake of it. It feels lonely. It feels empty. It feels… alone. Yet. I am me in a harder way. I get angry, I get frustrated, I get sad, I get detached. Yet better than to please only to be loved. The way is not easy. Having to fill my own empty space, doesn’t really work at times anymore. I dream. I have a child, I take care of a living soul because I feel like no one is taking care of mine. Longing. Again. The three of us having laughters about it, yet it hurts. 

It’s time to sleep. I head up the three stairs, one glass of wine too many, the AC troubling again. I decide I want ice cream, I head back down, brushed teeth, sleeping shorts on. As I make my way to the freezer a young Israeli offers me a glass of white wine. I don’t say no. He’s smiling asking me all kinds of questions while the half drunk hostel crew is trying to get going. My Adori, hugging me. You’re leaving right? It was so good having you here. Really. It was beautiful. I hope we will meet again. A few smiles, a few hugs, wine and ice cream before bed. Maybe this was the reason for me to come back down. 

A half drunk deep sleep, few hours later I’m on the go. In a bus I organized myself, Albanian style. … I think you have to ask Lina. Hey Lina didn’t you organize a bus to Vlorë? Can you tell these girls about it? I interrupt my phone call. It’s what we’ve just talked about. Unmotivated I answer unnecessary questions that I know so well from years of traveling. Back to the phone I can hear her laughing. I really couldn’t tell that you were annoyed answering their questions. I’m laughing. Yeah that’s what I’m stuck here with. Young groups of girls and boys traveling the Balkans in high season, thinking they found something others haven’t, overcrowding the most beautiful places, making them feel like Disney land. 

Money slipping through my fingers for nothing, living, sleeping, I need a new place. And so I’ve decided. Three more weeks. To be with the reason that brought me here in the first place. Then it will be time to leave. To go on.