first impressions...

July 12, 9am. We have successfully made the ferry crossing from Corfu to Sarranda, Albania. We got through customs with no problems, save for the 10 Euro "entrance fee" (is this some sort of theme park?). So, having been drained of cash at the border, we go into "downtown" Sarranda in search of an ATM and a bus to Himare, up the coast. We couldn't find either anywhere, and the bus did not leave until 2pm (5 hours away!) Our only choice was a taxi as we didn't want to hang around very long. By the way, coming from Corfu, Sarranda was a bit of a shock, let's say. Like going from a Caddy to a K-car. The streets are not paved, derelict, no tourist/souvenir shops. I knew I was going to like this place!! After refusing to pay 30 Euro for a cab to Himare, we found a big, round, friendly guy who would do it for 25 Euro. So, ok, we don't want to hang out in this place for long so we hop into the cab after agreeing on a price (memories of being hustled by a Ukranian cab driver still fresh in my memory).
We are in the cab for about 5 minutes and through animated cherade-like conversation, the cabbie, "Jim" (Dejem) finds out I like Raki and invites us back to his place for some. Immediately in my mind red flags are going up, especially seeing the ramshackle neighborhood in which he lived. However, am I one to turn down a drink?! So we arrive at his place and he tells us to wait in the car. Dust is scattering the car and buildings from unpaved streets as topless, unscrubbed children look on curiously. I have to admit, I am a bit nervous. Will he return with gun-toting Albanian maniacs who will strip everything from us and leave us for dead? No, he returns with a 1.5 litre water bottle filled with an amber-colour liquid the colour of gasoline. "You drink, you drink, ees good!", he chimes.
"Well, 'ere goes nothing" I say. Hey, that's not bad!!
"Not bad, eh?" he says.
So goes our ride along the southern Albanian coast to Himare. We banter amicably back and forth the best we can, him stopping for us to take photos of amazing panoramas whenever he saw fit. It must be mentioned here that any stop was a welcome occurence. The roads are often 100m above the roaring sea below, with a main road that would qualify as a go-cart track back in PEI. Trucks come barrelling around the corner and slow down just in time to avoid slamming into us and sending us over the edge into the deadly abyss that lies below. Jim says we'll be alright ( he must have seen my face contort into a grimace more than once) and honks his horn repeatedly while rounding turns to warn on-coming drivers of our presence, or to scatter the grazing donkies and sheep. He indicates that I shouldn't wear a seatbelt as a head-on collision wouldn't be fatal (going too slow around turns), but getting knocked off the cliff would be if you were restrained from jumping out of the car in time. I slowly, discreetly unbuckle my now useless seatbelt.

We stop in Borsh for a break where Jim says is the best, purest "mountain aqua". He also has a friend who runs a restaurant here (uh-oh, I think again, are we gonna get taken for a ride here?). We meet his friend and after many smiles and vigorous handshakes we are asked to wait and his friend disappears. Once again, when he returns, we are presented with a water bottle (only 500ml this time) of a liquid the colour of ethyl alcohol - the guy's homemade stuff. " A gift for you!" he exclaims.
"Are they gonna charge me for this?" I can't help thinking.
We are taken to a table on a multi-leveled out-door terrace in the back, set amongst the falls and springs of the mountain water. JIm orders us toasted bread, a plate of garlicky goat/cow feta, and grilled pork. Oh, and also more Raki. We eat and drink, but didn't linger as Jim indicates that his wife was just on the phone demanding to know his whereabouts. " I tell her car is kaput!!" he laughs. When we asked him how much the meal cost, he seems offended, and insists on paying. Back on the road with more hair-razing pothole dodging, harrowing curves, and breath-taking views.
We get to Himare (in one piece) and he tells us he has a friend who owns a hotel on the beach and he will speak to him to get a good price for us. We are once again greeted with smiles and handshakes and are brought Greek coffee and more Raki. The owner joins us and we chat for a bit. He wants to meet us later for supper. Jim says we will pay 20 Euros for the room, when the Italians have to pay 30. "I get you good price" he exclaims. I pay him before he leaves back to Sarranda and couldn't care less that I only recieved 2000 Leke back (16 Euros) from a 50 Euro note, as it's the only way he can make change. "Don't worry about it", I say, understanding that he cannot understand what I'm saying, " It was worth every penny".