Dy Dele, Treqind Pare – Echoes of the Balkan hinterlands6 min read
Georgie Archer reflects on her time hiking the Peaks of the Balkans trail, a stunning route that zig-zags over the borders between Montenegro, Kosovo and Albania in the depths of the mountains.
The title of this piece hails from a traditional Kosovan wedding song – which, ironically, was sung on repeat as I recently hiked the borderlands between Montenegro, Kosovo and Albania. With flaming lungs, aching calves and spirits dancing giddily around the treetops, we traversed steep mountain paths.
Why a Kosovan wedding song, might you ask? Wedding bells were not lingering on the horizon, if that’s what you were thinking. I was a week into my deep-dive into the Kosovar Albanian dialect, learning very useful phrases like “I am walking through the forest” and “Two sheep, three hundred pounds” – the translation of the wedding jingle. Beset with the idea of receiving sheep on a wedding day, but rather more interested in how many cheese pastries I could buy with £300, the song rattled round in my head to the accompaniment of stomping feet as I ploughed up – and down – the mountains.
In order to commence a chronological description of events, from which I have already become waylaid, I must set the scene. My hike was preceded by brief stops in Belgrade and Tirana, the first providing a gateway cheese pastry and the second a sunnier disposition and intriguing architecture.
An unseasonably late snowfall meant that our first hike was curtailed: the Valbona mountain pass was, unfortunately, impassable. This turned our first hike on its head, and we were forced to endure the beauty of a boat ride through a striking gorge – Lake Komani. Fortunately, many other beautiful scenes awaited our eager eyes, and most were lit by the rays of persistent mountain sun, with only one hike resulting in foggy views. The hikes provided a range of scenery, from meadows to mountain ridges, forests and more, weaving through the landscapes of three countries and leading from guesthouse to guesthouse where raki and homemade delicacies awaited.
One of the highlights of my trip, excluding the views of snowy ridges and meadows laden with summer flowers, was consuming tiny plastic cups of coffee. Perhaps it was the relief of having survived the snowy ascents, or the joy at being allowed to unwrap my cheese, cucumber and boiled eggs (a lunchtime staple), or simply the elation felt at the soft reception by the grass of my weary legs, but these cups of coffee were extraordinary. The Nescafé grains gathered at the bottom were less than ideal, but the happiness poured into each cup made each sip worth another steep ascent.
Gëzuar (“cheers”) to Balkan hospitality – in the cabins and on the mountain passes.
Another of my favourite experiences on the trail was encountering many new canine – and other – friends. Petting a dog offers a dopamine boost like no other, even if said dog is straddling the path down what your guide has just described as a “cliff.” Taking a moment to scratch a pup on the belly or behind the ear mid hike is unparalleled.
Non-canine pet friends:
It’s funny how, upon reaching the summit of yet another steep valley climb, it’s so easy to forget about the effort of the climb. No sooner has the perspiration evaporated from one’s brow than the temptation to take a quick snap of the scenery behind and romanticise the whole experience settles in. To bear witness to the beauty of mountainous knuckles jutting against each other was an honour. Granite, limestone, snow-capped, bedecked with rows of pines peering down at the log cabins clustered below and with beehives clinging to the steep-sided valleys – the scenery was at once calming and evocative.
Not only are the mountaintop views spectacular, but there are hidden surprises to be found throughout each hike. It’s beginning to sound like I might just be a hiking enthusiast, a mountain fangirl; but how can you not slip into an overzealous description of such beautiful waterfalls – nestled between the lower reaches of the valley next to a guesthouse in which we spent a peaceful night? The melted snow, in its hurry to reach the valley floor, cartwheeled over the edge of this relatively small rocky ledge, tucking in underneath the wooden bridge and echoing across the surrounding grasslands. It must be said that I crossed through this river and had wet socks and boots for the entire day in an effort to avoid climbing across a perilous-looking log “bridge,” but it was worth it.
Passing by the haunting remains of an unsettled past, the landscape in some areas featured wartime relics. Bunkers like the one below on the Albanian side of the border were built under Enver Hoxha’s rule in anticipation of invasions from a range of foreign powers during the Cold War.
Would it be strange to say that one of my favourite parts of the trip was on a day where the fog had settled densely onto the mountain top? It wasn’t because of the weather, but because of a life-saving snack delivered at an opportune moment. Our hike on this day took us up some very steep forest paths and snowy climbs – where we had to jab our toes into the snow to create footholds. Nothing like a crampon-less snowy climb to sharpen the senses, but fortunately nobody fell victim to the slippery slopes.
What did befall me was hunger. A rumbling stomach and endless grey, gloomy scenery was not the best combination, but I stared intensely at the little mammoths on the heels of my hiking guide’s boots in order to concentrate on survival. Little did I know, his kindness was to be my saving grace, and upon reaching a resting point, and perhaps being annoyed at my complaints, he offered me a Dubai chocolate flavoured protein bar. It seemed like a peculiar intersection of cultural experiences – my first time eating Dubai chocolate, which trended on social media, and a bonding experience on a snowy precipice.
My good fortune prevailed, and I survived the hike. The photos below are not of that hike, since we couldn’t see anything due to the veil of grey that enveloped us. Instead, enjoy some sunnier scenes – but have it be known that in the middle picture, there were many, many mosquitoes. I was forced to utilise the strong bug spray of my Aussie hiking buddies in order to make it through only relatively unscathed.
My overriding memory of my first toe-dip into the Balkans is of spectacular scenery and immaculate hospitality. The people were kind, the food was delicious, and the views will stay with me for the rest of my life. I left renewed – and with a deepened passion for exploring nature on foot.
Enjoy a final picture of me trying not to fall off the side of the mountain – and please consider lacing up for this hike yourself. It is truly phenomenal.
