Sunday 22nd September –
Dukat to Tërbaç via the Pass of St George
Total Distance: 9.60 miles / Total
Ascent: 1142m / Total Descent: 933m
Altitude Max 1140m / Altitude Min 347m
Altitude Max 1140m / Altitude Min 347m
Sunday morning in the coastal town
of Vlorë dawned bright and warm. Despite being early in the day, as we gathered
outside the hotel in preparation for our transfer it was already apparent that
heat would play a part in proceedings. Even though October was no more than a
few days away and the British summer a memory already beginning to fade, in
these latitudes the autumn months are still nicely warm and the days sunny, if
not overly long – as was evident at last night’s welcome dinner in the dark at
a nearby waterfront restaurant.
Straining at the leash: getting ready for the off |
A forty-five minute drive south
along the coast brought us to the village of Dukat, from where the first part
of our trek would begin. After two flights and a three-hour transfer by road
yesterday, we were all champing at the bit to get started.
Looking back to Dukat |
We followed a road out of the
village beyond the last spring and on to a path beside a dry riverbed. This
gently rising arterial route was to be our highway into the hills.
Highway to the hills |
It was a
glorious morning in stunning surroundings, with blue skies above, green trees
to the hillsides, and pristine white rocks beneath our boots, with the walls of
the superb ravine gradually tapering as we were drawn further into the
mountains towards the head of the valley. After the frustrations of the last
few weeks all seemed right with the world once again. In fact there was only
one minor detail that marred the hiking idyll in which we were reveling: it
was the wrong way.
Praying for guidance |
Still, it was nothing a little
backtracking and some local help couldn’t fix. The actual route we required
struck off up the hillside from much lower down the ravine on a path so well
hidden as to be practically invisible from the riverbed. Beyond the curtain of
vegetation, though, the route became obvious once more, and soon we could
clearly see the St George Pass ahead.
Pimp my ride: a traditional Albanian wooden saddle |
After a short stretch of easy walking,
the slopes began to get steeper as we moved beneath a canopy of stunted pine
trees. The going became tougher, and an indistinct path led us falteringly
upwards over loose ground scattered with rock and tree debris, while sharp
brambles and thorny branches raked at legs and clothing in a vain effort to
prevent our passage. Judging by the evidence on the ground, it would seem St
George hadn’t passed this way in quite a while.
Arriving at the top of the St George Pass, thorny dragons slain |
Eventually we reached the top of
the pass at the head of a stony gully. Since leaving the riverbed cloud had
gradually been accumulating, and the skies were now grey with more than a hint
of rain about them. Now, as we stopped for lunch, a stiff breeze blew through
the pass, and jackets were required to fend off the chill as we ate our packed
lunch.
Looking into the Shushica Valley |
The views ahead were impressive,
though, with the peaks of the Lightening Mountains rising formidably across the
Shushica valley beyond an exciting-looking descent. This began with a steep,
rocky drop down another tree- and stone-choked gully before striking off to one
side – first on a level but narrow balcony path, then following a switchback
route down, crossing and re-crossing the streambed.
Narrow balcony path (Photo courtesy Gent Mati/Outdoor Albania) |
Lightening Mountains ahead - named not for the mellow evening hue that bathes them but for the frequent fierce electrical storms they attract |
Eventually the path levelled out
and we began to contour round the mountainside. Forward progress became a
little easier. Our earlier diversion had us running a little behind time: so
much so that one of our hosts for the night came looking for us to guide us
into the village in case we were “off course” a bit.
Descent into the valley |
In the end it was just after 6.00pm before we reached the
village. Tërbaç proved to be a higgledy-piggledy collection of houses clinging
to the lower slopes of the mountainside. We wound a sinuous route through the
village before reaching our digs for the night – two adjacent homes overlooking
the valley. Here the party split into two, and our sub-group – us two, Miriam,
Merete, Emma and Jane, along with our guide, Gent – lodged with Adnan, who had
met us on the path into the village, his wife, Monda, and their three children.
Nearing Tërbaç |
The house was comfortable and cosy
on the inside, with a mix of traditional décor and some unexpectedly modern
touches. Monda produced a wonderful and substantial meal – grilled meat,
flavoured polenta, loads of salads, cheese, bread and honey, with plenty of çaj
(herbal mountain tea) and Turkish coffee to go with it – while Adnan held court
over the guests, dispensing raki to guests and orders to Monda, which is the
way of things here.
A fantastic spread (Photo courtesy Gent Mati/Outdoor Albania) |
Bread and honey: home-made and home produced |
The youngest boy, "super" Mario, was
(shall we say) a bit over-excited to have visitors in the house. In between
trying to keep him out of mischief, we talked as best we could to Adnan about
the farming way of life – one of their principle crops is honey, and their 50
hives produce some 300kg annually – and to Monda about her needlework and
tapestries and the beautiful treadle-driven sewing machine in the corner. Missy
G is a keen sewer, and has an old hand-driven Singer sewing machine at home, so
naturally this proved a great talking point and helped reduce the language
barrier a few levels.
A stitch in time: breaking down the language barrier |
The raki flowed as well – this
innocuous-looking but lethal spirit is always in plentiful supply in these
parts, and tonight was no exception. In a way, though, it was those traditional
values of hospitality, family and shared food that created a bond between us –
if only for a short time.
All in all we had a great night. Come 10.00pm
when we crashed out on the sofas, we were all ready for a good night’s sleep.
Gosh how did you find time to write? Certainly brought back memories! Miriam
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