Shkodër & The Shala River Canyon, Albania

‘This is the best campsite I’ve been to anywhere in the world!’

So announced a very well-travelled Swede we met during our stay at Camping Legjenda in Shkodër.

On the outskirts of the city, beneath the hilltop Rozafa Castle, the campsite had amassed a galaxy of stars in its reviews. And with a dog on a bike at the entrance, it looked dog friendly too!

Recently, I discovered a rather beautiful thing on a friend’s blog. Sherpas schedule rest days in their expeditions, ‘to allow the soul to catch up’. Despite being on the doorstep of one of the most continuously inhabited cities in the Balkans, sandwiched between lake Shkodër and the Albanian alps, with trips available to the beach, the historic village of Theth, or a lakeside restaurant, ‘allowing our souls to catch up’ was the plan for Shkodër.

The campsite entrance was a bit of a squeeze, though. As we took a wide swing from the outside lane of the dual carriageway to make it through the narrow gate, a motorist treated us to a fine demonstration of Albanian driving. The sight of a large truck turning across his path was irresistible. He decided it was the perfect time to accelerate up on our inside. It was a tight enough turn without the distraction of screeching brakes and a near collision. Mark got the line slightly wrong, and caught The Beast’s side on a concrete post. This war wound from Shkodër still lives with us: a dark patch of unweathered NATO green paint covers the scrape on The Beast’s flank.

The Legend after which the campsite takes its name is that of Rozafa, wife of one of the three brothers who built Shkodër’s castle.

Every night, to their dismay, the castle’s foundations collapsed. Luckily for them, a wise old man pitched up one afternoon. He offered a novel architectural solution, but swore them to secrecy.

“Whichever wife brings you food tomorrow, you must bury alive in the walls of the castle. Then the castle will last forever, but you must not speak of this to your wives.”

Despite swearing solemnly to keep schtum, the two elder brothers blabbed the entire plot to their better halves. So, it was poor loyal Rozafa who turned up with the boys’ lunch, only to be told that her wifely dedication meant she was now a human sacrifice.    

But Rozafa was such a good wife she didn’t object to being bricked in to the castle walls. She just asked that her left breast, left arm and left foot be left free, so she could still feed, cuddle, and rock the cradle of her baby son.

What a domestic goddess!

Rozafa is an example to women everywhere. Doing her husband’s bidding without question, then not even letting immurement stop her from keeping on top of her chores!

Camping Legjenda is actually one enormous work of art, run by Linda and her husband Franc. Franc designed all the sculptures and the spectacular stained glass that is hidden away around the site, crying out to be disovered.

In reception, Linda sold her own homemade products, made from the grape, kiwi, and pomegranate plants that shaded our pitch. The pool was a particular highlight, with its white wrought iron gazebo and spectacular castle views.

Since our souls were resting, we ate at the site’s restaurant several times. It was very reasonable, and served traditional Albanian food, as well as wonderful pizzas from a wood-fired oven. There was a small hotel on site, a chill-out and camping area, shaded by mulberry trees, and, hidden away in the trees, some lovely wooden cabins with stained glass panels. Linda also arranged for massages in the shade, although, unlike all the folk we met, like Poitr, who was cycling to Istanbul for charity, or Jean who was walking the same route, we didn’t feel we’d earned a massage.

People often look at The Beast with her knobbly tyres and four-wheel drive and sigh,

“I’ll bet that’s a go anywhere truck!”

Unfortunately, this is not quite true.

Originally, we had planned to drive The Beast to the Komani River Ferry and take the scenic trip from Koman to Fierza Lake. In the end, we did an organised day trip to this ‘Must See’ for several reasons.

One was the unmade mountainous road in, which I didn’t manage to photograph at all because of the speed our driver, Edmundo ‘Mundo’ Schumacher, took it in his car. Second was the long and sinuous tunnel through the mountain to the ferry port, which The Beast probably wouldn’t fit through, despite the millimetres shaved off her side on entry to the campsite. Third was the ferry dock, which was about the size of a small pub car park. Fourth and most importantly was the Komani Lake ferry’s assurance that even if we didn’t burn out our brakes on the road, made it through the tunnel and the dockside congestion, our truck was too big for the boat!

Although our day trip took us up a side canyon, the Shala River canyon, it followed about half of ‘Albania’s most spectacular ferry trip’ on Komani Lake. That part of the Albanian Alps is often referred to as ‘Albania’s Thailand’, with the glorious peaks and rippling slopes covered in lush green vegetation. I have never been to Thailand, but it reminded me of Fjordland in New Zealand – even down to having its own gloriously pointy Mitre Peak.

Our winding, early morning car chase to the ferry took ninety-minutes. The lakes and rivers were so still that the deep jade green water reflected the mountains perfectly. Once we boarded the boat, the water in the canyon turned to turquoise. When we stopped for lunch at Mundo’s Bee Eco Guest House, the river that moated the white pebble beaches surrounding the wooden lodge was as clear and cold as a well-iced gin.

As we disembarked, our boat captain hung back and escorted us to the cabin for our lunch of fresh barbequed trout. Later, we found out why. We were wary of a huge dog we saw patrolling the beach. A lady guest from the lodge who came over to say ‘Hi’ to The Fab Four told us,

“You must be careful. Yesterday, that dog attacked and killed another small dog.”

We’d never forgive ourselves. Plus, since we’d spent the last month in and out of the vet’s and poor Kai still couldn’t swim because of his stitches, we couldn’t stomach any further dog attacks.

Being on constant alert rather took the sheen off a lovely afternoon chilling under a shady umbrella and cooling ourselves in the ice-cold water. Mundo told us there was nothing he could do about the dog, because it belonged to his neighbours and they allowed it to run loose.

Unfortunately, our trip brought us into full contact with another of Albania’s down sides. At the ferry port, a sign proclaimed; ‘Please enjoy this place of gods as your home. Please respect and keep it clean. Remember, there are no trashes in heaven.’

It’s so sad that even in a ‘place of gods’, such pleas go unheeded.  Our river trip passed a shore-side cottage with the looks and charm of Dylan Thomas’ boathouse in Wales. Yet right next door to it, someone had tipped trash down the hillside. Mark and I looked at each other in disbelief.

“I’d like to paddle up the canyon on our SUPs and collect all those plastic bottles and cans,” Mark said. I felt the same way.   

Several times, our helm had to slow the engine. Initially, I thought it was for photo opportunities. Actually, it was to avoid fouling his propeller on miniature iterations of The Great Pacific Trash Vortex. Garbage everywhere marrs the pristine beauty of Albania.

On the race back, Mundo stopped for coffee at his friend’s place, Agora Farmhouse. It was so beautiful, right on the shoreline of a lake. Mark and Mundo compared tattoos. Mundo had a tattoo of Albania’s national hero, Skanderbeg, on his arm, to whom I introduced you in Krujë. The beauty and tranquillity of the place left Mark and me wondering how we could factor it in to our itinerary and, if we did, whether we could get The Beast around the bends in Agora’s narrow and precipitous driveway.

Maybe the caffeine made my brain work faster, because I wasn’t quite as terrified on the super-speed hairpin drive back. Perhaps it was the relief of being able to relax and enjoy the views, freed from the worry that the unmade margins of the road might collapse under our weight, or whether the switchbacks would cause The Beast’s brakes to overheat.

Yet Mark and I can only take so much herding around. So, although it was a lovely day, garbage, and dog worries aside, it will be a while before we sign up for another organised trip!

Join us next time as we head for beautiful Lake Ohrid.

For more info on travelling with dogs, including,Travel With Dogs to Albania – What You Need To Know , check out my Wuff Guide to Travelling with Dogs.