Season 6. Episode 9. Albania, the Wild West.

October 7, 2026. Budva, Montenegro to Shkoder, Albania. 55 miles. 2,973’ climbing.

Riding south along the Adriatic after leaving Budva, we came to Sveti Stefan, Montenegro's iconic island. This 15th century fishing village has become a luxury destination.

We like tunnels as a concept of riding through the mountain instead of up and over it. But it’s a bit nerve-racking without a shoulder to ride on and hoping drivers are alert.

Our amazing riding views continued.

Strbina Beach, Montenegro.

After a healthy seaside lunch of Greek salad (for me) and Caprese for Heather, the dessert siren summoned. As a rule of thumb, I feel any dessert that is served in a mason jar is usually excellent. (Like key lime pie at Bar Taco for those in the know.) This tiramisu display reeled me in.

The tiramisu did not fail my rule. It was dreamy and creamy excellence. Funny enough Heather had said she wasn’t going to have any, but became a 50% partner.   And since I still was not able to bite with my front teeth into anything firm (like crunchy bread), this soft sweetness was perfect.  (I’d been cutting up my food into smaller pieces and mashing them with my molars.  Happily a few days later I was able to bite with my front teeth too.)

Although we were still in Montenegro, as we approached the border with Albania, we started to see more mosques.

One of several times my chain has skipped over the cassette when I’m shifting into my lowest gear. The chain then gets lodged between the spokes and hub. I need to then pull the chain out, making sure that I don’t pull too hard and break the chain, but I need to pull hard enough to get it dislodged. I’ve been looking for a bike shop to make necessary repairs, (and buy a new helmet) but have not found one.

I did bring some latex gloves and plastic bags to wear to avoid my hands becoming covered in chain grease. But this chain issue has happened so many times that once I ran out of them and my hands become a greasy mess. Fortunately, earlier this year we learned the perfect bike hack to clean up greasy hands. The secret is that rubbing sunscreen on your hands actually breaks the grease down and can be wiped off with a wet wipe.  That’s the good news. The bad news is thinking about what’s inside sunscreen that it cuts through this difficult grease, and that I’m putting it on my face too - makes one wonder?

We soon came to a road detour for construction. Since we didn’t like the looks of the hill that needed to be climbed for the detour, we asked the road crew member if it’s okay to go though. He said yes. 

We soon decided there was no way he should have let us through. There was heavy machinery in use.

Long time blog readers may recall we treat road closed signs as more of a suggestion. [This approach is highlighted in two of my favorite episodes. There was epic success in riding Big Sur in California when it was closed for rebuilding after landslides.  (Season 3, Ep.14)  However, the same approach got us threatened with being arrested when we went across a road closed line due to the forest fire closure in Washington State. (Season 4, Ep.2)]

This work zone was merely about 200 yards. We then were treated to every rider’s dream surface - fresh blacktop. For over 5 miles! Not so fresh that on a hot day it fills your tire treads with gooey tar still soft. But new enough that no road lines are yet painted. And I found out later that a friend who cycled through here within the past month encountered it still as gravel and not yet paved. We were very lucky!

Crossing the border into Albania.

Immediately past the border crossing, we were at once approached by mothers holding children in their arms, begging for money. Very sad. 

We soon saw many trees with a pomegranate like fruit.

Other changes were roads deteriorated in quality, and sadly, trash was widely littered roadside everywhere. A trait unfortunately familiar to us in other developing countries we’ve visited. 

We passed several buildings with cisterns on the roof to gather rainwater - something we had not seen so far this trip.

We hadn’t expected such a contrast from Montenegro. 

We stayed in the town of Shkoder.  It’s on Lake Shkoder, the largest lake in southern Europe. The lake is about one third in Albania and two-thirds in Montenegro.  “Lake Skadar” is used in Montenegrin, while “Lake Shkodër” or “Lake Shkodra” is the Albanian name.  Much more sensible than Lake Ontario and Lake America :(   

Bikes used as a mode of transport are widespread in Shkoder. We saw bikes everywhere. I read 30% of residents cycle as their primary transport. I believe it. Yet not a person wears a helmet. (No spandex shorts nor neon tops.)

One of my favorite scenes - 2 old men friends meet up by bike.

Given how widespread bike usage is, it seemed to us a bit dangerous and like the Wild West - no rules. Bikes came at us from the sides or at odd angles. 

It appeared a film fest of sorts was taking place.

The city has a vibrant cafe life centered on a pedestrian area:  "Pjaca" (Rruga Kolë Idromeno). In many places we saw men and women together, but in many places we’d see just men congregating. We’ve seen that in other developing countries and often a sign of the deep male friendships and social culture. (In some places like India where we saw it, it also meant the women were busy working while men socialized.)

My dinner of assorted grilled meats was excellent. Plus I love a sampler with variety rather than just choosing one. 

Our stroll on the main promenade before dinner revealed there is nothing “developing country” about their desserts. Of course, we returned here after dinner. Speculoos cheese cake was the winner.

Bike art always captures my attention.

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October 8, 2026. Shkoder to Tirana, Albania. 75 miles. 1,366’ climbing.

Today was this trip’s  longest ride, from Shkoder to the Capital, Tirana. It was largely through small  villages with traditional farming and herding life.

Steep climbs in rain are NOT fun.

We took shelter and refueled with chips and crackers at a gas station food mart. Not all glamor and European delicacies.

It’s so sad to still see so much garbage strewn widely along the roads.

We were doing pretty well until I was exhausted and needed a nap. I’m capable of falling asleep in a minute, napping for 7-10 minutes and then feel completely refreshed. It had been raining and we were both wet and cold. I sat damp and cold under a patio umbrella at a gas station in their lawn furniture and prepared to take my nap. Heather asked if I mind if she went ahead. I was surprised that she was going to navigate into busy Tirana on her own, but said if you want to, go ahead. I did ask don’t you want to wait just 10 minutes for me. She chose to go ahead.

After my short nap, I started to ride and figured I’d meet Heather at the hotel. I was quite surprised to meet her well before then. And she was not happy - to say it mildly- she had gotten lost a few times and riding going into the city was crazy. If Shkoder, a small town was the wild West, Tirana was the Wild West on steroids. There was heavy traffic, narrow, slim areas for a bike to ride. 

And bikes and cars coming at you from all angles. And yes there were many dedicated bike lanes, but you could have a fast e-bike coming right at you in that lane. Heather hated it. And blamed me. On the other hand, I can enjoy some riding like that. It’s like a video game and objects randomly jumping out at you. And Heather knows I enjoy some of that riding. So this made for a tense arrival at our hotel. 

Heather admonished me with “don’t ever do that to me again”.  To which I replied “What did I do?”

By the time we went to dinner, we were both in better spirits.

And the traditional Albanian appetizer of Fli Saci with organic dipping honey helped us move forward. (kind of tasted like my mother‘s kugel recipe).

Here are 2 impressions of locals greeting us: by school age kids and by dogs. 

Unlike Croatia and Montenegro, here when we passed school age children, it was common for them to shout out at us “hello, hello”. They were curious and eager to meet us. In one instance, there were four children across the street from me who dropped their bikes to the ground, and ran to my side of the road to give me high-fives as I rode by.  I love the interaction with local children when we’ve been riding in new countries, and I like being a good ambassador and obliging them.  However, we learned our lesson in India where all it takes is one of them grabbing your hand instead of giving you a high five (or grabbing your bike) and down to the ground you go.  (Heather had such a fall in India.) So as a safety measure, you need to either come to a full stop for any cultural exchange, or you need to ride by with a nice friendly wave and greeting of hello yourself and continue on safely.  

As I had read prior to our trip, there are many loose street dogs in Albania. We passed several with me riding with trepidation in anticipation of being chased.  We would then pass them and nothing would happen. They didn’t even stir. They had no interest in us. After several such non-encounters, our defenses relaxed and we became comfortable.  So it was all the more shocking when we passed a dog that did give chase and barked aggressively.  Damn, they lulled me into a false sense of security and then one of them pounced.  No more relaxed riding by them. Fortunately there were only 3 such chases and even those were short lived as they’d lose interest quickly, unlike the terrorizing pursuits by their canine counterparts across the southern USA that would pursue us much longer. 

We’d never had slow roasted leg of lamb ordered whole. But as the saying goes when in Rome...er I mean Tirana…

And then carved masterfully at our table side.

Tirana as a larger city had an interesting combination of older communist era buildings buildings that contrast with some modern buildings. So it had drab near fab! 

Heather’s artsiest photo to date capturing us preparing to leave our hotel in Tirana.

We loved Shkoder and liked Tirana. Both interesting with great local food dinners and culturally interesting and educational. Heather would just say she hated riding into and out of each city. 

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October 9, 2026. Tirana to Durres, Albania. 28 miles. 420’ climbing.

Leaving the city with difficult traffic was another round of very tense riding for Heather and video game like amusement for me.

After an hour of riding like that, it cleared up. We had a short ride to Durres on the coast, the port for our overnight ferry to Bari, Italy. 

In our original plan, we would ride here earlier in the day to explore the nearby beach and our final sunset looking west over the Adriatic. However, because of the gloomy weather, we toured in Tirana in the morning and came here late afternoon closer to our ferry departure.

As we arrived in town and were about five minutes from the ferry port, my phone rang. It was the ferry company calling to tell me our ferry had been canceled. They called because I had not replied to the email to confirm I was aware. I checked my inbox, my junk folder, spam folder and never received such an email. This resulted in a mad stressful scramble to get another ferry or we’d need a hotel room and have to change every reservation set up for Puglia. The agent on the phone told me we needed to come to their agency first in order to cancel our reservation (seemed ridiculous since they were canceling on us). They then sent us to a different agency to try to buy a ticket from the other ferry company as they said they could not buy it for me. It was now dark. We were cycling in traffic quickly, darting around town trying to take care of this. And that’s how accidents happen. 

The Albanian open manhole cover.  Very luckily I saw it quickly enough to avoid it. (This video game like riding just got very scary). We’d actually been warned about this in online reading pre-departure. It’s a known thing.  (Too bad nobody warned us to beware 3 stooges pulling a boat out of the water with an undetectable winch cable in Croatia.) We did not fall (literally) for the old Albanian manhole cover trick. Another scheme that Wile E. Coyote would devise for ensnaring the Road Runner.

What a close call to another fall. Disaster avoided. At first the other ferry company had only seats for us with no cabin, so no shower (we’d been cycling!). After some Mark style persistence and travel industry inquiring, a cabin turned up on the computer although almost 3x the price of our original tickets.  We’d been hosed. And I don’t mean showered. At least we’d get to Italy and have a real shower along with a bed. 

We made it to our overnight ferry.

After a very stressful final 60 minutes, we felt like this was a deluxe hotel suite.

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We ride to raise funds for the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation. They are dedicated to curing spinal cord injury and improving the quality of life of those impacted by paralysis. Thank you to so many of you who have already generously donated an amazing  total over $26,000! If you’ve not yet had a chance to support the Reeve Foundation, please consider making a gift at Heather & Mark Ride for Reeve.

© Copyright Mark Segal 2026.