Albania was the first state we entered that had been subject to years of communist rule during the Cold War and into the early 1990s. Following the Second World War, after the Soviet Union had swept through German occupied Eastern Europe, independence was not granted to ‘liberated countries’ with the exception of Tito’s communist and totalitarian Yugoslavia. They became communist satellite states of the Soviet Union. Winston Churchill famously spoke of an ‘Iron Curtain’ descending over Europe. We crossed into Albania after a sunny morning in Greece and immediately enjoyed the countryside. It felt poorer. Farmers worked donkeys and carts up the slopes and dogs made themselves known again. Stopping for cash (they don’t use the Euro) meant experiencing our first Albanian city on the Riviera. Sean and I descended into the town opting to split up to preserve Timmy’s legs for the climbs ahead. The town was packed and vibrant. Tourists in restaurants and bars. It wasn’t to foreshadow what was to come despite our hopes. Regardless we rode back up the hill with cash and buoyed spirits to tell the boys of the town and what we may be able to expect up the coast.
A rather bucolic Albanian village, this one survived the communist architecture period
Beautiful but brutal - the Albanian riviera
Big Papi as he is known, pensive in the Albanian sun having conquered yet another mountain pass
Papi struggling his way to the top
Always hot. The slow riding up hill makes for tough work
The road turned upwards and the sun came out beating relentlessly against our bare backs. Timmy was hurting. He was hurting like a rampant meat eater who’d been put on a diet of vegetarian pasta and then asked to climb mountains day in day out. Sean and I cycled ahead and crested the first summit together. Arthur came next with an enormous load. He was carrying both Timmy’s bags and powering his way up the hill. Timmy came next uttering words too impossibly inappropriate to write here. And so we cycled on, Timmy’s bags distributed between Arthur and myself, up the undulating coast. At one point we met a young British lad cycling his way to Hong Kong whose first words to us were, “Fuck this!” Yes it was rather tough work but my goodness the scenery was something to behold. A towering rocky outcrop gave way to the bluest of blue oceans that teased us far below. And so our first day progressed with beautiful scenery and unrelenting climbs up the riviera. After we crested the final summit Timmy, exhausted beyond sensibility, descended with his hands flung out in a crucifix as if asking the heavens, ‘Is there anything else?’
Sean Armstrong charging up hill
A beautiful descent
He always puts on a brave face for the camera. He's hurting here (N.B. the absence of his panniers)
Arthur's bike, again heavily weighted, with Timmy's bag
Papi, without panniers, posed a real threat on the hills. Here he can be seen attacking in desperate attempt to summit the mountain first
Another mountain pass
This one switched back on itself into the clouds
We spent two nights at Hirame, a small coastal resort town. It was pretty enough but the legacy of years of communism was rather glaring with towering pastel coloured apartment blocks and incomplete building sites dominating the skyline. Tom, eldest of the Gillies brothers, had time off during Bank Holiday in the UK and had decided to meet us. ‘Is Albania worth coming to?’ he asked. I said absolutely, being rather excited at the prospect of seeing him. We booked an airbnb in Schengen, another resort town on the coast close to the Montenegro border. After a day of cycling through rain and equally bleak villages we arrived in what was a ghost town. Tom arrived shortly after in a rental car he had hired from the capital. It was decided that night, over a few Fernet and cokes, that we were going to get in our car and drive real far, all the way to Dubrovnik in Croatia.
It felt wrong to judge Schengen so quickly so the next morning we drove around to get a feel for the place. An abandoned yet still guarded torpedo boat and submarine base was the highlight of an otherwise fruitless excursion. It felt like something out of James Bond or Call of Duty. With music blaring we got in our little Tata car and started moving. I hadn’t driven for more than a year so was quite apprehensive with my delegated task of driver. After half an hour it had all come back. We crossed into Montenegro and enjoyed driving the riviera up to the Croatian border. We got stung with a horrendous 250 euro fee for car insurance going into the EU which we panicked about briefly and then decided we wouldn’t let it get in the way of our international, multi country weekend of madness. The boys drank beer in the back and we sped towards Dubrovnik and the Liverpool game that was on in half an hour.
The big bro and little bro in Montenegro
Driving - a foreign concept to us
Streets of Dubrovnik
The view beyond the walls of Dubrovnik
The next few days were spent with the elder brother enjoying the beach, walking through the old town, cooking food in our apartment to avoid the tourist trap prices, and drinking a little too much of the famous Croatian cooking wine. It was sad when it came time to get back in the car and drive away from the place, however we were buoyed by the thought of returning in a few days to meet Sean’s parents.
Here I attempt to fly. It looks high but it's not quite so impressive in the flesh
It was lovely to have the older brother visit for the weekend
Better than London?
Back in Schengin, Albania
A typical pastel coloured apartment block
More bleak communal living
It was sad to say goodbye again
A nervous drive ready to negotiate the mad Albanian roads
The Albanian monument shot. This is what summed up our last few days in the country
And so we said goodbye to Tom and got back on our bicycles. He’d left us with his UE Boom which now resides on the back of DJ Sean’s bicycle. Everyday now, particularly if it’s a boring stretch, we are treated to Fat Freddy’s Drop or whatever else may be tickling the DJ’s fancy. We only spent one night in Montenegro. On a long stretch of coast, on a rare flat section of the riviera, we found a beach where we set up our tents. It was a wonderful night, despite the bit of rain overnight. There is nothing I enjoy more than waking up to the sun rise over a calm sea, getting into swimming togs and plunging into the water. I think it is very important to do something like this in every day life. Too often we fall into the trap of getting up as late as possible and then rushing to work for the obligatory 8:30am start. I know I was guilty of falling into that also. When you start the day doing something positive for yourself it is so much easier to get into a good headspace. It’s more of an effort but it makes a difference. I’ve vowed to do such when I return to New Zealand. Anyway I digress.
The Montenegro monument. We were only there for one night
Sunset at the campsite
The coast in Montenegro was stunning
Our first and only night in Montenegro was spent here
Beautiful Montenegro
Arty bringing the vibes to the campsite
These two dogs gave me quite the headache. They found and proceeded to maul a turtle which I couldn't hide from them. The little guy had a tough shell though and the dogs couldn't kill him to my joy
We cycled the same roads we had driven a few days beforehand and soon found ourselves at the Croatian border. The border guard asked us ‘Where are you going?’ Without thinking, and due to my excitement, I rather enthusiastically said ‘Croatia!’ The rather unimpressed border guard thought I was being a smart arse and just replied ‘Really?’ I suppose being at the Croatian border that was rather a given. The situation was light hearted though and one of the French guards asked where we would cross to England. He said he usually operates on that crossing and would see us there in July.
Arriving in Dubrovnik, this time by bicycle
Flower power Papi
Sean’s parents had rented a wonderful house at Sunset Beach in Dubrovnik for us all. We arrived eagerly and set up in our new palatial surrounds. Jon and Julie arrived while Sean and I were out buying wine. Their distinctive Kiwi voices betrayed the surprise they attempted to set up for us. It was nonetheless a lovely reunion. We spent the next few days again lying on the beach, drinking wine, dancing at night in the local club, resting, and eating wonderful food Julie prepared for us. There’s nothing quite like home cooking. Arthur, Sean, and I had all been suffering from what doctors suggested was post infection IBS. Since India I had been getting sick every time I ate food. It usually came on half an hour after food and was a horrendous nausea. We had blood tests but most importantly Julie brought a series of multivitamins and probiotic boosters from our lovely sponsor Clinicians. We put our insides on a diet of probiotics and now I eat without that horrible feeling. It’s hard to explain how good that is.
The buildings in the old town of Dubrovnik
The view from the old town walls
Most of the Croatian coast looked like this. Rocky and beautiful
Looking out over the walls for invaders
Happy parents, happy Sean
Homely comforts had to be abandoned for a night as we got on the road again with 210kms to cover to Split. Small villages lined the riviera, houses white with orange tiled rooftops. The water was a blue that you feel you only see in travel brochures. Out of the sea climbed a tall, rocky outcrop and this persisted all the way up the coast to Split. We found a small beach near the road and a pine grove that was just up off the sand. As the customary evening rains set in we set up camp. Thunder rolled in the distance and soon was upon us. Things were getting wet so I had a swim in the electrical storm and then cooked dinner, all off us huddling under the thickest branch of an overhead tree.
We spent 49 minutes in Bosnia and Herzegovina but still had to get the monument shot
The campsite between Dubrovnik and Split. How lucky are we?
Another one of our campsite
The steps down to the old town in Split
The beautiful Croatian riviera
The arrival in Split was celebrated with the purchasing of another 5 litre bottle of the famed cooking vino. Jon and Julie arrived shortly after us and again we were to enjoy being looked after for a few days. In Split we met up with our friends Caitlin and Ainsley and subsequently had our livers tested for a few days of fun on the beach, at the bar, and on the island off the coast, Hvar. The old town in the city was beautiful but the heat made it oppressive to go out. Regardless we saw a lot of Split. It was lovely spending time with familiar faces.
We were lucky enough to meet the girls from The Long Way Home who are cycling from Switzerland to New Zealand
The view of Split from the hill. The old town is the area with the densely packed orange roofs
One year since we left New Zealand we took the same shot as we had before we left. The changes are immense!
Just seeing if I can match Emma Twigg, famous for carrying fully loaded touring bikes up flights of stairs. Sadly my bags were filled with pillows for the photo shoot
Family dinner. Julie treated us to some amazing food
Timmy’s girlfriend, Tena, was waiting in Zagreb. Her family lives there and so Timmy was most excited about our arrival in the capital city. We had a few nights on the road camping in roadside plots of grass, one site rather unfortunately next to the main train tracks. They had been obscured by trees but we were soon to hear the roar of trains which persisted through the evening.
A large mountain pass lay between Timmy and his love. Usually prone to dropping back and slowing down on the mountains Timmy pushed himself to the edge of consciousness. His lungs threatened to explode out his chest and his mad, oxygen depraved eyes stared wildly up the mountain as he threw his bike, so fondly named ‘Lady Gypsy’, up the mountain. This time not yelling ‘Marlboro Reds!’, but the name of the other love of his life, the only thing capable of perhaps surpassing his love of cigarettes, Tena. He whispered her name between gasps for air and held on to our pace with determined resolve. In what later became known as ‘The Ride for Love’ Timmy summited his first large mountain with all his bags on the bike and having held a steady pace set by the original three cyclists. Oh how far the man has come.
You can guess who we call Thunder Thighs
The northern coast of Croatia. There was a peninsula that ran the length of the coast. It looked like a desert
Everywhere it's hot
Roadside piss. I've developed a way of not having to lift the bike off the ground. It's working well
Sven, in the famous singlet he wore and got so badly burnt in on day one, 365 days ago. Back then the singlet was a wee bit fuller. He's a fast, fit, and sexy version of his former self
Our one year riding anniversary was on the road to Zagreb
Arrival in Zagreb
And so we arrived in Zagreb and felt our time in the Balkans over. It’s funny how something that seems so distant can come and go before you have the time to process it. I think all this looking forward to things and constantly dreaming of being in the next location has taught me to enjoy the present. The rest can wait because you can place a fairly sure bet that it will be upon you in no time anyway. Onwards we ride enjoying every day as they come for we know they are few now.
