Day 8 –
Thethi to Rrogram via the Valbona Pass
10.27
miles / Total Ascent 1449m / Total Descent 1176m
The Big
Day was upon us. Or at least that is how it is pitched. Somehow the crossing of
the Valbona Pass has reached an almost mythical status: a tough trek, and one
that embodies all that is good about trekking in this area. Don’t get me wrong:
it shouldn't be underestimated, but in truth it was no harder than several
other days on the route, and one that would be well within the compass of most regular hillwalkers.
A much brighter morning: view southwards from the guesthouse |
And, having done it once before, we already had an awareness
of what to expect. It’s
undoubtedly a long road journey to get to the same place by vehicle, so most travelers need to take themselves and their luggage as well, something
that usually requires the assistance of a mule team.
Setting off in the sunshine |
The
morning dawned bright, and filled us with a guarded optimism after that last
couple of days of iffy weather. We were away, with mules loaded, by 8.30am, and
although nowhere near as hot as last time, it was certainly warm enough for
that time of the morning.
Distinctive Mt Arapit dominates the view to the north |
From track
to path, flat to steep, we began to climb, and the distinctive summit of Mt
Arapit – entirely hidden in clouds during the previous two days, including when
we passed right by it crossing the Peja Pass – dominated the skyline to the
north.
Flower-filled meadows on the way to the Valbona Pass |
The route
winds steadily upwards – sometimes steep, sometimes steady - through cool woods and
flower-rich meadows threaded by butterflies. We took our time: after all, the
scenery was worth it, and to rush on such a sublime morning would have been sacrilege.
Tony relaxing in the sunshine |
The path
was familiar, albeit that it was three years since we had last been this way.
So what struck me as we climbed was how much had changed in such a short space
of time. Certainly the infrastructure has improved, and – by the look of things
– accommodation has increased in both quantity and quality. OK, this may not be
universal, but from what we could see bridges, guesthouses and paths had all
undergone refurbishment.
I must be dreaming. |
Around
three-quarters of the way up, we came across an unusual sight. Three years ago,
this would have been a mirage. Now, this vision ahead that looks like a bar is a bar! We stopped for a drink and to fill up our water. As it happened, though,
they also had Fli, the traditional pancake-based dish so beloved in northern
Albania and Kosovo. So we had to have some, just to check if it was as nice as
we remembered.
Enjoying some of the popular layered pancake-like Fli |
Although I
was happy to take advantage of the facilities, I felt a sense of disquiet, too.
Enterprising it most certainly was. But appropriate? I’m not so sure. I mean I know that
tourism will bring changes, and that life is hard in these parts, so any form
of income is vital to the community as is anything that helps to keep that community together. But
I couldn’t help think there was something not quite right about it, too:
that in an area whose main attraction to visitors is its remote feel and pristine nature, a line had been crossed in some way. Is that wrong of me?
At the top of the pass |
The remaining climb to the top was completed in about an hour, so around 3.45 hours after setting out, we were standing at the pass. Unlike last time, we had a little energy left to climb a rocky knoll for fine views into both valleys during lunch.
View into the valley, with cloud rapidly building |
What was also
clear from our viewpoint was that the sunshine of early morning had given way
to dark clouds to the west, and that rain was on its way. So we didn’t linger,
and managed to get the first, steep part of the descent behind us before the
rain hit. Sometimes steady, sometimes a deluge, we progressed carefully through
the rain: although the path was not so steep, there were still sections where a
slip could occur – something we hoped to avoid.
On the first part of the descent |
We kept
going down – past other new bars, and on to a waterlogged track in the valley bottom. For a
few minutes the rain came very heavily, then – just as we were contemplating
taking shelter in a nearby bar – it relented enough that we opted to carry on.
The
Valbona valley is an unusual place, strewn with loose rock and boulder fields
that tumble down the mountain sides, and unlike anywhere else I can think of. Judging
by the amount of loose rock, there must be a hell of a lot of water flowing
down the mountainsides in the spring thaw, and erosion here must happen at an alarming
rate. The car road here simply cuts across this scree, and is in reality just stones
and pebbles compressed into something approaching a passable surface. Still, it
meant we were on track, and gave us something to follow as we headed for
Rrogram.
Walking the car road along the valley floor |
Last time,
we had overnighted at a modest hotel sited at the point where the boulder field
gave way to the gravel road to Bajram Curri. Now this road has been asphalted, and the hotel is
several times bigger than before. It was also heaving – "build it, and they will come" - more people than we had
seen since Shkodra! So we moved swiftly on, took once more to the riverbed
car road, and reached our guesthouse a mile or so further on.
View back from near the guesthouse as the clouds lifted |
Cozy,
well-situated, with nice rooms (3 to a room, with en suite shower rooms) and a
warm welcome, we had time for tea in the garden before a rest and a clean-up before dinner – one of the
best so far, with a delicious soup to begin with, grilled goat with salads and
potatoes, and watermelon for afters.
That
evening was the World Cup final between Germany and Argentina, and in the
corner of the dining room was a large TV. As kick-off approached, the generator
was coaxed into life, and we all sat expectantly round the screen. Sadly,
though, the generator wasn’t quite up to the task. A few tiny lights is one thing, but powering a large TV something else entirely, and after a couple of false
starts, it finally admitted defeat after about 20 minutes. Some trotted off to a nearby
bar to watch the rest, but we called it a night. After all,
it was 9.30pm, so well past our bedtime!
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