
The D&O Diary’s European travels continued earlier this week with a first-time ever visit to Albania, the rugged country on the Adriatic and Ionian coasts of the Balkan Peninsula, tucked between Montenegro and Greece. The country still retains many vestiges of its 20th century communist era, but it is modernizing quickly, and it remains a topographically diverse, naturally beautiful country.
Albania is geographically small, only about the size of the U.S. state of Maryland. The country has a population of about 2.4 million people, with the largest number located in its capital, Tirana. For most of the 20th century, Albania was one of Europe’s poorest countries, owing to its economic and political isolation, and infrastructure limitations. Since the 1991 collapse of the country’s communist regime, and particularly in the most recent years, the country has made great strides, particularly in infrastructure development and education. Many of the vestiges from the country’s earlier struggles remain, however.
The first stop on my Albania tour was to the country’s capital city of Tirana, located in the country’s center and surrounded by mountains. Tirana is a big, busy city, now bristling with a number of new, taller buildings in the city center. Some areas of the city –particularly in outlying areas — still retain a ramshackle feel from the the country’s 20th century isolation, while the center city projects an air of aspirational dynamism that is palpable.












After my brief visit to Tirana, I was off to explore other areas of Albania. I went next to Vlorë (pronounced VLOR-uh), two hours south by car from Tirana and part of the coastal area of the country known as the “Albanian Riviera.” Vlorë, which has a population of just under 100,000, is at the northern end of Albania’s Ionian coast. The city was briefly the capital of Albania at the time the country first became independent in 1912.



Vlorë is great and by all rights I should have enjoyed a great visit there. Unfortunately something unexpected happened on the day of my first visit. A dog bit me. I had seen the group of about five or six dogs lounging on the beach on the outbound leg of my first seashore walk upon arrival. They paid no attention to me and I paid no attention to them. On my return, I noticed that the dogs were up and moving around, but again I paid no attention. Before I realized what was happening, one of the dogs had wheeled around behind me, and bit me on the leg. This was not a friendly nip. This was a forceful, vicious bite that was intended to do damage. My first instinct was to retaliate, but when I shouted and wheeled around to face the dog that attacked me, the other dogs suddenly perked up their ears and took three or four steps toward me. I realized that if I took even one more step, I would be dealing with six dogs, not just one dog. I backed away and headed to my hotel room and cleaned out my wound. (I always keep a stash in my backpack of those alcohol wipes that the airlines started to give out to passengers during the pandemic.) Enough time has passed that I think I can be sure that the bite wound won’t get infected, but the incident certainly affected my perception of Vlorë. Travel can be so much fun, but it can all go bad in a big hurry, too.

I know from my convesations with other Americans as I was planning to on this trip that there are three things I need to address about Albania as part of this travel post.
First, is Albania safe? Pretty much every single American to whom I mentioned that I was going to Albania asked me this questoin. (They were not asking about the dog problem in Vlorë; they were asking about crime.) I would say that Albania is as safe as any other European country. I certainly saw nothing (other than the stupid dogs) that gave me even the slightest concern. I think Albania’s vague reputation for crime reflects the fact that its prior communist regime was a corrupt mafia state. I have to say, at no point during my visit did I have even the slightest concern about my safety or security (at least as pertains to other humans).
Second, what about the currency? It is true that Albania is mostly a cash only country. Perhaps this is a vestige of the day when it was a corrupt mafia state, as a result of which there is little trust in the financial system, so cash is king. I also was told that the bias in favor of cash is reflection of tax aversion. The local currency in Albania is the lek. The current exchange rate is roughly 80 leke to the U.S. dollar. However, many shops and restaurants will take Euros. On each occasion when it was time for me to pay, I found myself wresting with a pocketfull of bills and coins. My main objective was to make sure I spent all of my leke, as they certainly were not going to be useful anywhere else. It has been a very long time since I have had to mess around with cash while traveling, and I have to say it is a huge pain.
Third, what about the language? It may come as no surprise to you that I do not know a single word of the Albanian language. As it turned out, my ignorance of the Albanian language was never a problem. Pretty much every one I interacted with spoke at least a little bit of English. In fact, most people started out addressing me in English. The young people in particular seem very comfortable interacting in English.
Overall, I had a great visit to Albania. I know I should not let the stupid dog bite color my perception, but I would be lying if I tried to pretend that it did not. To the extent I can put the dog bite out of my mind, I am able to say that otherwise I enjoyed my Albanian visit, and subject only to a warning about the dogs, I would recommend Albania as an interesting, different kind of place to visit.