Welcome to travels with Todd

If I could make days last forever

There seems to be an emerging consensus in theoretical physics that time isn’t real but is, instead, an illusion created by our minds to make sense of our imperfect understanding of the fundamental principles of the universe in which we live. In case you’re interested, here’s one explainer.

The seaside resort of Sarandë is a mere 265 kilometers south-southeast of Tirana. The bus ride between the two locations is longer than five hours. While there would be a single 15-20 minute stop enroute, simple math says our average speed would be 53km/h. (For my American friends, that’s about 33 mph.)

To understand this, we need to recognize that 70 percent of Albania is mountainous and that it’s only recently emerging from its long isolation. As we’ve previously encountered, while the country is attempting to upgrade its infrastructure to more Western standards, many of its roads wind in such crinkum-crankum paths through these mountains that it renders even the mere consideration of a fluckadrift passage unreasonable.

I checked out of the Hotel Livia and took a taxi to what currently passes as the bus station.

It’s essentially a large parking lot with a ticket booth. I’d purchased my ticket in advance so I was assured a reserved seat. I was a bit amused when I boarded a bus in Albania and saw this sign at the front.

The word SALIDA on an emergency exit window added to my conviction that I’d be making this trip on a used bus purchased, if not from Spain, then from a Spanish speaking country.

I’d settled into my seat a few minutes before our scheduled departure and, although the bus was gradually filling, the seat next to me remained empty. I was uncertain whether the appropriate feeling should be relief or apprehension. I obtained a seatmate shortly before the bus started on its way. I’d soon learn that the sonsy young woman who would be my companion for the coming five hours hailed from the UK. I’ll call her C.

Whether time is real or merely an illusion, we perceive it. And, despite our efforts to measure its passage with ever increasing degrees of accuracy and precision, our human perception of it can vary according to our age or the circumstances in which we find ourselves. Sometimes both. For a five year old, the year between her fifth and sixth birth anniversaries might seem almost interminably lengthy. For me, the year between my seventieth and seventy-first birthaversaries passed in barely more than the blink of an eye.

Similar differences in perception can be true for something as temporally ephemeral as a five hour bus ride. Had no one sat next to me, the five hours of uncrowded solitude might have been welcome. Or daunting. Had my companion been someone of substantial girth or whose standards of personal hygiene were something I found unpleasant, those five hours might have seemed as lengthy as that year between five and six.

But I faced none of those challenges because I had C seated beside me. I can’t tell you precisely when our conversation began but I do know it began long before we passed this lonely cow grazing above the road.

Writing about it even now, more than two months later, I am astonished at the depth of connection we established in such a short time. Those of you who have read much of this blog are likely unsurprised to find that I connect with people when I travel – whether you look back to E on the very first trip I reported here or to L from my time in Tasmania last year. And, truth be told, I’m not surprised when this occurs either.

In C’s case it was the immediacy of depth and breadth of our connection that I found numinous. Far from being a millennial blatherskite, C was curious, engaging, and interesting. Our conversation slithered  sinuously around myriad topics – from the genesis of one of her tattoos, to our shared and differing experiences as solo travelers including the benefits and drawbacks attendant in xenization, to sharing broader life philosophies – all as the highway we traveled slithered sinuously through its mountainous ascents and descents.

The ride ended about 20 minutes after we left Tirana. Or so it seemed.

And then there were none

No, that’s not a reference to the Agatha Christie novel. It’s about the rest of my day in Sarandë. C and I said goodbye at the bus station when she set off to meet a friend who had traveled in from the UK and was arriving on the ferry from Corfu. C had been a bit concerned because, unlike her, her friend wasn’t as comfortable or as experienced a solo traveler. We traded WhatsApp information and a hope that we might meet again for dinner. I knew it would be an easy task for me to find the hotel where’d I’d spend the next two nights from the “bus station” (another curbside lane for the buses to park) because we’d ridden past it on the way into town. However, my walk was in the opposite direction of C’s.

Another factor that would influence our plans was that C and her friend were actually staying in Ksamil – a quieter seaside town about 15km south of Sarandë – as were, I discovered later, N and C from the Intrepid group. It would take some effort for me to get there or them to return to Sarandë so the possibility of a subsequent meeting was tenuous at best.

Although I was again staying in a small, family run hotel, it was apparent that tourism had made deeper inroads here along the Albanian seashore than it had even in the Albanian capital. The amenities weren’t fully what one would expect in a more Western style hotel but they were a step above much of what I’d experienced heretofore. The view from my balcony

was among the most pleasant of the trip.

The other “none” element of the evening came when I tried to find a restaurant L had recommended. She’d been to Albania a few years ago and in our WhatsApp exchanges over the past nine months, she was kind enough to offer some suggestions based on her experience. One of them was a particular restaurant in Sarandë. It was a bit hidden so it took some effort but I ultimately found its location. Unfortunately, it was closed for renovations. I had dinner at the hotel’s outdoor restaurant.

Since I’m not the sort who is going to spend a day apricating by the seaside, tomorrow I’ll be off on another day tour primarily to the southern Blue Eye and Gjirokaster – the UNESCO World Heritage Site known as the “City of Stone.” If you feel like you’re missing out on some photos, you can check here.