I'm back in Britain again after some 11 days of riding. Most of the riding was across the mountains of Albania, with an added 1800 mile ride back to the UK as a bonus.
After driving two bikes down through various countries in Europe in a van, which took a gruelling 30+ hours. We arrived in Tirane around 9pm at night. We stayed in a hotel there for the night, then did some stuff like SIM card purchases, cash runs and some basic shopping. Then it was off to Gramsh to sort out somewhere to stay for a couple of days to get our bearings.
Gramsh is a small town in a roughly central part of the country. It's a very active place with up and coming tourism and plenty of local night life. During the day, old men play checkers in the park, there is a market place and people wander around swapping local gossip all day long. At night, the main street becomes a sort of walkway. Everyone seems to do loops up and down the main street. Stopping to chat to each other, parade around as young girls or lads chaperoned by families, all doing the same thing. It's entertaining to watch the byplay of characters, whilst sitting with a beer. We made up all kinds of stories and dreamed up loads of questions as to the why this, that or the other.
Riding day 1 was an attempt to get to the summit of Mount Tomorri, 2384m, however, we ended up getting to the base around 2pm after traversing a lot of hillside trails and small hamlets on the western side of the Devoll River and the Sotira waterfall. I'd had problems at a cash point early in the morning and needed to visit the bank before it closed, so decided to head back to Gramsh to sort this. We rode back down the river bed for a couple of hours as it was the shorter route, but it was rough in parts and the route was a "make it up as you go" type. Good fun though.
The staff at the bank were great, really helpful and my problem was sorted with a cancelled transaction and the money returned to my account later that week. Dinner that night was excellent in a local restaurant called Taverna Beni. 3500 Lek or 35€ for two course each. Huge portions and so tasty!
Riding Day 2 took us over the mountains to the south east of Gramsh. We followed a GPX route which I'd found on Wikiloc. It started out on wide gravel roads, then after a detour around some major road works installing a new water pipe, we ended up on the summit of a peak, before dropping over some vague trails into the next valley. That valley took us up and over again to the five lakes of the Valamara area. Some of this was rough ground, but the trails were obvious to follow. Once back to tarmac, we needed fuel, so the nearest was in a small village Lozhan. The old lady here was lovely, her daughter was an English teacher, so we ended up with a translator and also coffee. The ride back was through a thunder and lightning storm, which was pretty impressive. Some very heavy rain that turned the roads into mini rivers.
Riding Day 3 saw us with panniers on the bikes for the first time this trip. We headed back towards Tomorri. We found that the TET route took us to the base of the mountain via gravel roads and the river bed again, so this saved us some time. At Gjerbes, we had ice cream and a drink before following dirt trails to the top of Tomorri.
At the top, the view was fantastic. 360 degrees of mountain and valleys in every direction. There is a monument to the Bektashi religion there. A guy called Abbas Ali was supposed to be entombed there and it had become a pilgimage site, where sheep were slaughtered in their droves in some form of honorific rite. People burned candles at the base of the mausoleum there and a guardian kept an eye on the place, living out the back of his trusty Land Rover.
Our descent, was straight down the hillside instead of on the dirt road. It was pretty rough, with plenty of long grass, hiding lines of limestone bedrock, and a limestone quarry at the bottom to traverse. Once back on the sealed road, the temperature in the valleys climbed much higher. We found a very bouldery, bouncy road down into Polican. Another fuel stop, then it was over to Dardes Reservoirs and a wild camp at a picnic spot, where some goats came for a visit that night.
Riding Day 4 saw us stopping at the reservoirs for photos, before breakfast at a great little cafe, where we met and had a good chat with an Austrian lady who had been touring Albania for around 18 years. Breakfast was a bread dish, made with butter and some side cheese and a boiled egg. Once back in the valley, we found more fuel, then literally bounced up a river bed to an old 1990's war time political prison site. That was an uncanny place, like something out of an old film. From there we headed up to Holta Hot Springs and canyon. Thee is a campsite there which we used for the night. Great food and a load of Czech riders to talk to.
Riding Day 5 saw me heading north to Lake Shkoder for an exploration of the lake shore. What a fantastic place. Some truly beautiful parts of this lake, that is split by the borders of Albania and Montenegro. I toured more of the southern side, where I found a place that was truly magical. A ruined fishing hamlet, where one house was being restored. So peaceful and the views were stunning. I met a French guy at a viewpoint called JC, (Jean-Christophe). He was riding an old BMW GS1100. One million miles on the clock. Three engines, two gearboxes and multiple other replacements and still running around the world. We shared 20 mins of chat and philosophy of biking around the world and then went our separate ways.
Riding Day 6 took me through Montenegro and into Croatia, mostly on tarmac, but with the odd detour into the hills and surrounding coastal dirt roads. The coastline was pretty busy, lots of fast traffic, which the 50 mph limit I put on the 450 engine gave me some heart stopping moments avoiding crazy drivers. My tyre and mousses were looking a bit haggard by now. They weren't new when I arrived in Albania, so I was pushing my luck with the type of riding I was doing now, and with full luggage. Hey ho...
Wild camps were fairly easy to find, so I just kept riding and filling up with fuel. 125 mile range means plenty of stops, which is a good thing when you have a truly awful enduro saddle which has virtually no foam on the tail piece where I tended to sit a lot! Side saddle technique ruled this ride!
Riding Day 7 saw me continuing on the long coastal roads of Croatia. The northern section is beautiful. Really good tarmac, perfect bends and almost no traffic. Every now and then, it was off the mainland and onto an island, using some very magnificent bridges. That stark contrast of blue sky, white limestone and blue/green Adriatic was mesmerising. I stayed on a campsite that night. Time for a shower and a beer. I met up with a German guy from Bavaria with his Toyota 4x4. He was in his mid sixties at a guess and what a character. He offered me a cold beer and we sat by the sea watching the sunset and swapping travel stories. His wife popped over for five minutes, but soon left again. Harry, pointed me at several places in the Italian Alps for both passes, dirt roads and great pizza.
Riding Day 8 saw me pass through Slovenia and into Italy. I was more seriously hunting for tyres now. I still had about 3mm of rubber left of the rear tyre and the mousses seemed to be holding up, despite both the miles and the heat. The mountains of Slovenia, saw me putting on extra layers for the first time and once past Udine in Italy, I encountered a heavy thunder storm that soaked me completely. I rode several Alpine Passes that day. My favourite was the Pass of the Lost. I rode it both ways, it was such good fun plus I had a detour up into the trees for the dirt version Harry had told me about. I found it, but it was pretty steep and overgrown and alone, with a lot of luggage and virtually bald tyres, I decided to play it safe for once! I camped in a posh campsite that night. Ate a great pizza, drank some lovely red wine and had a chat with two older German bikers who took the mick out of my little tent asking if it was a Harry Potter version, so much bigger on the inside than outside!
Riding Day 9 didn't start too well. There was no one at reception to pay for the camping and they had my driving license. I waited half an hour, texted the mobile number and eventually a gardener said no one would be there until 9am, some 3 hours later. So, I left them a message to say contact me to sort payment and headed off. I now need to replace my driving license which is the same price as the camp fees! I tried multiple bike shops for tyres en route today, with no joy. The earliest I could get some was three days, the longest was two weeks. So I just kept riding. Several more Alpine Passes and a random train ride in Switzerland which was totally unplanned and a bit surreal.
I took a wrong turn misreading the twat nav. This took me through an electric barrier gate that closed behind me. The lady at the pay booth said "good morning" and asked me for 21€. I paid by card, slightly confused and thinking I had just entered a toll tunnel or something. In the vehicle queue, I still had no idea where I was going or what was happening. On the wall though, was loads of quotes in multiple languages. The English version is very apt these days I thought!
Then next up, the cars started moving forward and a guy stopped me and issued a load of instructions in Swiss German. Seeing my confused face, he looked at my number plate and then repeated in English.
"Stay on your bike, put both feet on the ground and hold the front brake". We then drove onto the train!
Switzerland has no dirt biking to speak of, so no chance of tyres. So aiming for France I set off again. My route took me through Lechtenstein and towards Freiburg, then onto Nancy. I camped in a field and had many fruitless stops at bike shops again. Still, fresh Pain au Raisin, hot coffee, french beauties and rolling countryside made up for the dearth of tyres and eased any worries.
In one part of my mind though, the graves and memorials are really a reminder of the stupidity of the human race. Pointless arguments and egos that cost over a million people their lives, yet we seem doomed to repeat the same errors again, both in 1939 and now, with how the world is currently trending.
At one point, I came across a line of cars stopped in the road. Three dogs were running around, with a guy trying to catch one of them. It turns out they were strays and the beautiful chocolate Labrador had been clipped by a vehicle. The two Corgi like dogs, were soon caught and popped into the back of a van. A council guy had his hazards on and was making calls to alert the local police/dog catcher etc. A lady got out of her car to try to help the guy catching dogs. No one seemed able to catch the Lab as she tried to nip anybody who went near her. I had armoured kit on, so I jumped off my bike and went and knelt at the grass verge. She came over to me and proved to be a beautiful, calm, one year old ish bitch. I fluffed her ears for a bit, calming her, then started to check her over and sure enough, she tried to nip me again and again when I went near her rear right leg. In the end, I managed to pick her up and get her into the council guys van. He and the other van driver took them away and the traffic moved on. Good job I didn't have the Landy, that chocolate Lab would have been in there 'toute suite' and off the vets with me! Such a beautiful, well mannered dog. Made me want a dog again!
So Calais arrived. My tyres needed to do three more hours of riding, then a trailer drive home was calling. The ferry was £77 one way with DFDS. A ferry full of screaming teenagers and absent teachers. I met two British bike lads who were caught in the same storm as me in the Dolomites it seemed. They lived at Lancaster and Darlington. So a similar journey north to get home.
Yet again. UK Highways closed every major north bound road around Oxford, Birmingham and Derby. The M40, M5, M6, M1. All of the A roads out of the listed cities with almost no detours in place unless they took you into the city centres and the "Clean Air" rip off zones. At one point, around 4am somewhere doing loops around villages in Derbyshire, I was screaming in anger at the utter stupidity of the UK road management system. If I'd have gotten my hands on the planners of that lot, I'd have gone to prison at that point for some sort of horrific murder scenario. What a stupid fecking country the UK has become. How many miles across how many countries, no hassles, no issues, yet here in our 'First World' country, I can't even get home in a sensible time.
Anyway, now I'm back home, still frustrated, but at least I've slept now. Time to service the 450, which has performed so well with all the stuff it has been asked to do on this trip. Bloody good bikes these KTM EXCf's. Them tyres and mousses showed some awesome lifespan and never missed a beat.
