Valbona Pass
Letter #42: I hate to admit this, but the Alps look MUCH smaller than the Himalayas.
6/23/23
I nearly missed our 6:30am bus from The Wanderer’s Hostel in Shkodër, Albania. The bus would be taking us to the Komani Lake Ferry which would carry us 3 hours down this expansive lake where we’d be picked up by another van, which would drive us another hour and half to Valbonë. Yes—6 hours just to get to the valley where the trailhead begins. Luckily, a couple girls from the hostel told the driver I was meant to be on that 6:30am bus, so the staff came to get me—I had mixed up the times even though one of the staff members had so kindly written out the entire itinerary for me. I threw my bag together without bothering to buckle it shut, paid the hostel, and dropped off the luggage and laptop I wouldn’t be taking on the trek with me. I grabbed some fruit from the breakfast spread and ran out the door.
I rode next to Marilyn, a French Canadian vascular surgeon in residency, who had shared a room with me the previous night. We both have traveled solo quite a bit—she’s done a 15 day camping and cycle tour in Newfoundland—ALONE. She’s out of my league.
We met a few other girls—Katie and Alex from London, and Karin from Ireland—who’d be joining us on the trek. Since there was still snow up on the pass, the hostel recommended we split the price of a guide.
The mini bus we were on wound through the lower valley until we reached the narrow roads of the mountains. The bus entered a dark, winding tunnel where the only lights inside were our own headlights. It was disorienting, and I wondered how long this pitch black, poorly designed tunnel would last, when we stopped abruptly at the exit of the tunnel, the dock of the ferry right in front of us. There were cars, minibuses, vans, and motorcycles parked haphazardly with nearly zero room to turn around and exit the tunnel again. There was no road to continue on—you either got on the ferry or you turned around and went back through that wild tunnel. It was almost comical that this method of getting onto the Komani Lake Ferry had operated in this chaotic manner, day after day, for who knows how many years.
I had only seen a couple photos of this lake but it is STUNNING. The water is turquoise, like you’d witness in the Caribbean Sea. The lake itself looks more like a river, meandering through the Albanian Alps. The lake was pristine, until we reached certain parts where masses of plastic bottles floated along the banks—just another ugly reminder of the impact of human consumption.
I slept for about an hour of the ferry ride, which is pretty rare for me. I struggle to catch up on sleep on buses, plans, trains, boats—you name it. But since I’ve been traveling so long this year, I’ve gotten better at falling asleep in moving vehicles. Since I’m not rushing to fit everything into a week long trip, waking up for frequently early departure times, it’s rare that I get so exhausted and desperate to sleep at any given opportunity. Just another perk of not having to go back to my old job—I get to travel slowly and take my time.
When we finally reached the dock, we waited for another mini bus to pick us up and take us to our guesthouses in the village of Valbonë. Most the girls were staying in shared rooms in a guesthouse the hostel had booked for them. I had already booked a private guesthouse room for myself—it was more off the beaten path. I had to trek 30 minutes to get to it, crossing a creek that only a 4WD SUV could pass.
I had read that the mountain water was so fresh you could drink straight from any water source. A small stream was trickling down the road bank, so I took my water bottle and refilled it, the water streaming off leaves and tree roots. 🤷🏻♀️ It was the coldest, FRESHEST water I’d ever had. It tasted like nothing. It was so pure, my mind was blown. This mini “trek” to the property was nearly all uphill so I was sweatin’. But it was worth it—when the road finally opened up into the valley again, I was met with grazing horses, cows, chickens, and ducks, leading the way to the guesthouse. This place looked like heaven, straight out of The Sound of Music.
The air was crisp but the sun was out, so I dropped my bags, grabbed my journal, and sat at the outdoor tables for lunch. The owners brought me a salad made of vegetables from their garden, homemade bread, a brick of homemade cheese (kind of tasted like feta), some pickled vegetables, and little sausages that looked like hot dogs. It was a simple meal but so nice to eat such fresh ingredients from their humble little farm. There was a hose of mountain water running constantly, landing in a little dug out hole in the ground where the owners kept ice cold beers and sodas. A duck waddled over to drink from the mini pool, and then dove in to bathe himself. I watched him dip under and shake out his feathers over and over. To say the Alps are restful and serene is an understatement.
I was there alone for a while until some other guests began showing up and we exchanged some nice conversation about hikes around the area and where we were traveling from/to. Only myself and one other couple would be hiking over the Valbona Pass the following morning. We shared a communal dinner in the dining room up stairs, which had a wood-burning fireplace.
The guesthouses here feel similar to the ones in Nepal, with the exception of some additional luxuries. The bedrooms featured 2-3 single beds, heavy blankets, no heat, and a shared bathroom. At least these rooms were enclosed upstairs, indoors, and the bathroom was indoors as well. So, in general, much warmer. But there was a fixed meal, no menu like in Nepal. The lodging here, however, is MUCH more expensive—$25-35 a night as opposed to $7 a night in the Himalayas—and there was at least the option for a fire in the dining hall.
I woke up at 6:30 the following morning, packed up my bag, grabbed a to-go breakfast, and paid my bill. I headed back down the road to meet the guide and my friends from the Shkodër hostel.
The guide’s friend drove us in a super old orange Mercedes van across the white, rocky expanse of the valley, criss-crossing over creeks to reach the trailhead. His 30 minute ride likely shaved 1.5 hours off our trekking time.
We started out, a total of 7 of us splitting the cost of the driver and the guide, coming out to only $13 a person—not a bad price. I was surprised at how winded I was very quickly into the trek. I was certain I’d be cruising after the Himalayan trek, sure that the Valbona Pass one day trek would be a piece of cake. The other trekkers were all in the late teens and 20’s, and I was impressed at how fast everyone was. The first half of the trek was all uphill, so I was grateful that we paused for a break every 30 minutes or so.
There was actually very little snow on the path we took (it was May 30th), but the better marked trail for the summer was still covered under snow. So the guide was leading us up the winter path, which was poorly marked and more familiar only to the locals. Apparently, it is not uncommon for inexperienced tourists to die trying to hike this pass—especially in the snow—so it’s no wonder the local people get frustrated when guests refuse to hire guides. Just the week before we arrived, two tourists had died trying to make the pass. Did I think the trek was hard or scary? Not at all, but I guess that doesn’t mean it isn’t still dangerous.
We finally reached the top of the pass after only 2.5 hours or so. The views were breathtaking, and I’d never seen the Alps before. But can I be honest? I’m having a tough time not being jaded after being in the Himalayas in Nepal. 😬 A ridiculous concept since I never grew up around mountains, so they fascinate me no matter where I am, but now, because I spent time in the Annapurnas, all other mountain ranges will pale in comparison.
We began our descent after saying goodbye to our guide, who got us safely to the top of the pass. We headed toward the village of Theth where we’d be staying another night before heading back to Shkodër. In truth, I had wished this was a 3 day trek rather than just one day of actual trekking.
We passed many hikers on our way down, assuring them end was near—they were only doing the short hike from Theth to the top and back. To stay in Valbonë meant a nearly 6 hour ride to get back to Shkodër the next day, and you had to carry all your gear with you.
We stopped at this mountain top lodge that served food, coffee, drinks, and had great music playing. The group lit a candle in a slice of apple cake and sang to London Katie for her birthday. I ate my to-go breakfast from the guesthouse for lunch.
It began to thunder so I encouraged the group to pack it up and head down toward Theth quickly to beat the rain. The descent was easy and uneventful. We cruised down until we reached the last 20 minutes of the trek where the loose shale-like rocks made everyone slip unexpectedly. I was grateful I had picked up trekking poles in Nepal. I used one and lent the other to Marilyn. We reached the trailhead after about 2 hours, and parted ways, as I had about a 40 minute walk through mountainous countryside to reach my guesthouse. It began drizzling on me and I didn’t have any rain cover, but luckily I reached the guesthouse before I got too soaked.
Again, I was the only guest at the moment at Butjina Kometa. Another guest would be arriving that afternoon, the owner told me. She was a personable woman in her late 30’s, with a toddler boy, a husband, and her in-laws living on the property. Her husband had grown up in this house, and over the years they had expanded to include guest rooms for trekkers. They spent their winters in Shkodër where she grew up, and spent their summers in Theth—what a beautiful way for their son to grow up.
My private room had a private bathroom (yay!) AND heat (double yay!), so I took a hot shower, changed into my thermals, and facetimed with my parents and then Hilary. Around 6pm I went down stairs for a cup of tea. It was still a bit cold and damp outside, but the rain had stopped, so I sat at the outdoor tables under the gazebo and tried my best to enjoy being outside in the Alps even though it was wet and chilly.
After a while, the other guest walked up and we introduced ourselves. Erwin from The Netherlands. Even the Dutch will tell you “we’re everywhere.” He was the owner of the very cool Land Rover Defender that had passed me on the road earlier in the day. We chatted for a bit and I invited him to sit with me. He was likable right from the start. A happy, easygoing guy. He was married with two kids in their 20’s. He’d just had a trip with his wife and daughter at the beach, and now was taking about a month, solo, to tour around the Balkans in his truck. He has a demanding but rewarding career, and has little time to himself. So, from what I could tell, this time to solo travel around the mountains was a gift. He never booked things in advance, just took it day by day, stopping in towns to stay over night, or otherwise camping in his truck-top tent in the woods. Driving a camper truck through the Balkans would be a magnificent way to explore the variety of landscapes these countries have to offer.
The guesthouse owner brought dinner out for us—more homemade bread, salad, and a cacio e pepe like pasta, fried potatoes, and some fried pork for me. I kept throwing bits of the fried pork into the tall grass for the cat to hunt for—she loved it. Everything was made fresh, including the pork which had been ☠️ 5 days earlier. Erwin’s vegetarianism was a good reminder for me to cut back on my meat consumption for environmental reasons.
We chatted for a couple hours—our conversations ranging from past to current to future careers, our families, dreams, you name it—and then headed off to our rooms for bedtime. I slept perfectly well—as I mentioned before, I’ve become very good at sleeping in new places.
In the morning, I packed my bag and went down to have breakfast with Erwin. We said our goodbyes, he was heading off in his Defender, and I was hiking back into town to catch the minibus to Shkodër. We exchanged emails to stay in touch, in the event I ever make it over to the Netherlands—which I intend to!
Quick story…before I packed up my bag at the guesthouse in Theth, I noticed something dark in the corner of the room that morning. Was it a spider? NO! Upon closer inspection it was a SCORPION! My first ever scorpion sighting…IN MY ROOM! I slipped on my Birkenstocks and walked down to the kitchen to find the guesthouse owner. I was far too freaked out to deal with it myself, so she sent her husband up to take care of it for me. 😬 It was only a little guy but it was nearly the size of a cockroach and I was not interested in finding out if it was poisonous or not. I shook out my boots before I put them back on…🫠🦂
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Wowww the color of the water! Also, bring me a travel size bottle of that water back with you next time 😂
Beautiful, beautiful scenes!