DAY 69 - VALBONA
Friday June 29, 2011
Valbona
Total: 716 miles (Total: 1,365,091 steps)
“It does not matter how slow you go, as long as you don’t stop.” Confucius
Two conversations were to change the plans for the week ahead. The first, was the urging of Arben Malaj MP on our pilgrimage to the Church of St Anthony, to visit Kosova, who are struggling for recognition by the international community. The second, was later that day in a meeting with H M Ambassador to Albania, Fiona Mcilwham, who said that she, and the Head of the British Council in Albania, Clare Sears, were planning to travel into the mountains on the border of Kosova and would be very happy for me to tag along and then drop me in Gjakova, Kosova on Monday morning. These two encounters seemed to confirm that this was a good opportunity to advance the cause of the truce and also provided a means of doing it.
Now all that would be required was for the doors to open in Kosova in three days over a weekend. Up step Fisnik Minci, a respected independent journalist and commentator based in Prizren and friend of Arben Malaj, Arlind Rama and Anthony Cordle. Whilst I disappeared into the communications black-hole of the mountains of the Valbona National Park, they set to work on my visit with remarkable effect.
To say that getting to Valbona was not easy, is a massive understatement. Following a fascinating visit of a British Council Exhibition at the National Gallery in Tirana with Clare Sears, we drove out of Tirana as far as Shkoder, in the north of Albania—it seemed a very long way by car and all the way I was reminding myself that I would have to retrace every inch of this route on foot over the next couple of weeks. We arrived at a fantastic old style guest house called ‘Tradite’, in the centre of Shkoder, where we met up with Fiona Mcilwham, who had been attending a conference there during the day. The owner of the guesthouse was visibly overwhelmed to have the British Ambassador visit and the best tables and room were reserved. This is not ‘standard treatment’ of diplomats, it is more a reflection of the personal high regard with which the Fiona Mcilwham is held in Albania and especially in Shkoder, where she came to do her language training. Travelling on the ambassador’s coat tails provided a perfect vantage point from which to sample the best of Albanian hospitality.
We arose early the next morning to drive the perilous road to Koman, where we would then have to catch a ferry and travel up the Komanit river for two and a half hours. The boarding of the ferry at Koman was a particularly chaotic exercise, as they tried to squeeze as many vehicles and passengers on the boat as possible. There was much shouting, tooting of horns, pushing and shoving and with good cause—this was the only ferry departure of the day and failure to get on would mean a stomach-churning journey back down the valley to Shkoder. We were blessed with having Clare Sears at the wheel, whom I am convinced must have been a rally champion in her past. In a macho world, where it took a dozen men to try and load the ferry, it was pure joy to see their disbelief at the skill of Clare in reversing our Land Rover Discovery onto the ferry. After a spectacular journey up river, navigating tight mountain gorges with sheer cliffs rising 5000ft above us on either side, we arrived at Fierze, where a single women managed to disembark the ferry with the minimum of fuss in 15 minutes.
In Valbona we stayed at Hotel Rilindja, an idyllic guesthouse in the middle of the mountains and operated by a wonderful couple: Alfred and Catherine Selimaj (see: www.journeytovalbona.com). Again, the fame of Fiona and Clare went before them, and we were given a great reception and helpful briefing on what to do when encountering wolves, bears and snakes! I need to write much more on this visit, but time is running out so here is a quick exec summary:
M Edith Durham was a formidable lady who was drawn to the mountains of northern Albania from north London, in the early part of the twentieth century, and chronicled her experiences in one of the most amazing books I have read—a copy of which, in English, was on my bedside table.
Catherine Selimaj, our host, had a wonderful story as a bookseller in New York who came to Valbona, fell in love with Alfred and Valbona—not necessarily in that order and established a flourishing tourist business. Catherine had rescued two baby hedgehogs and was nurturing them back to health which provided me with the cutest picture I will ever take:
Catherine also provided us all with a brilliant lesson in pro-active diplomacy: she had left her expensive binoculars in the mountains at a particular place she often went and when she returned they were gone. There was one solitary farmhouse in the area with a family including some young boys who might just have picked them up and kept them, but rather than confronting them, she baked a big chocolate cake and took it to the family to say thank you for looking for her binoculars—inspired. I suspect that they may re-appear close to her hotel very shortly. I then suggested that Fiona might bake cakes for the political leaders in Tirana and take them round to thank them for the efforts they are making to resolve the current political dispute.
Clare Sears and Fiona Mcilwham gave me a master class tutorial in how to improve communications for my walk and engage with the media: at the heart of it was a mnemonic of TRUTH, which means that stories must involve: T-opical; R-elevant; U-nusual; T-rouble; H-uman. It’s a long story, but essentially we concluded that we needed to promote the truce in Munich, with Joanna Lumley at a Lloyd’s TSB and if we could borrow one of Catherine’s baby hedgehog’s then we would secure blanket coverage—though the Olympic Truce might get a bit buried.
In a way, which will be reminiscent to all who have ever gone walking in the English Lake District, it had rained for most of the weekend, but on Monday morning, as we left, we were taunted and yet inspired by the most glorious blue skies.
It was a wonderful weekend and the best way to end a week that was, undoubtedly, the turning point in for the Walk and for the campaign….on to Kosovo.