The House in The Village, Pellumbus, and the fortress at Petrala. Albania. May 22

I had arrived in Tirana the previous night to explore Albania with a group of strangers, travellers of a like minded ilk.

"Albania? why do you want to go there" my kids remarked when I told them of my latest destination, " It's dangerous".

I thought my kids knew me! I thrive on danger, "If you aren't living on the edge, you are taking up too much space".

Two weeks later I can say I didn't find Albania to be dangerous, taking myself at times into areas non-touristic, I only got chased off once by a band of irate gypsies. I digress.

I had woken fully refreshed and ready for the day. After a hearty breakfast and introductions all round we boarded a bus that took us some 15 miles out of the city to a small dying village in the hills, Pellumbus.

The House in the Village

Here to visit a project started by a local resident who was doing his best to bring life back to his community

It wasn't really a village, just a few old buildings and unmade trails, in this day and age the youth of today are moving away to the cities and towns, in search of fame and fortune as an instachatagram "influencer". Get a proper job and look after your granny.

What tales she could tell. Albania has had a hard history, communism, fascism, and now as we were to find out under the dictatorship of a corrupt autocrat, controlled (allegedly) by the gangsters, drug barons and people traffickers we hear so much about. Albania is in the process of joining the eu; good look with that europe!

We eventually arrived, and were warmly greeted by Mr. Duqi, and his merry little band of helpers.

Cordially invited to enter and view the home that has been created, and offered as an alternative lifestyle destination; not for profit, but to increase funds for further development.

The overwhelming aroma of home cooked bread was heavy in the air as I wandered around the spacious warm kitchen

And the overwhelming sweet scent of marijuana in the bedroom, good to see that there were no worn socks or pants lying around. cleanliness is next to godliness don't forget.

Love this idea, it would cast strange, hypnotic, reflections on the walls as we lay back and chill to Garcia, Hendrix or early Floyd.

I looked at the sky, and thought "Imagine waking up to this view every day"

Our host had set up a table and we enjoyed a veritable feast of local cheeses, chunks of home made bread, apple chutney and fig jam.

Absolutely wonderful tastes and textures.

Washed down with home made orange blossom tea.

Absolutely fucking disgusting.

I asked "What is with the little swing set up over yonder?"

I was told it was the garden set up for the little people who live in the trees.

Riiiiiite!! Now pass me a spliff and let me see the little people who live in the trees.

Time to go

Petrela Fortress

I didn't take any snaps on the way to the top, I was too focussed on not ragging my ankle, so my weapon of choice remained safely stored in my backpack.

You see, I was kitted out in the finest pair of gripless trainers; no one told me we were scaling these heights. All the way to the top on uneven time worn shiny cobbles, stones and gravel!

Twenty minutes of heavy breathing and moaning (behave!) later. I arrived at the top.

I surveyed my Kingdom, below my feet.

Lost for words, my breath taken away.

There has been a fortress here since the 6th C of the common era. This building dates back to the 15th Century.

The Capital City of Albania, Tirana some 10 miles or so away on the river plain.

So now just the slippery descent to make.

I summoned an Uber-donkey, but his rates were extortionate, and he had a shifty look in his eye,so shank's pony it was.

A short hike up an easy pathway looping around the hillside gets you into the castle

Fuck off Lonely Planet, it is not short; it is not easy.