Preparing for Prayer

The Turkish soldier was getting ready for prayer. He took off his boots and stood clean and barefoot. He faced Mecca, placed his hands together, and began to pray. He knelt, prayed again, and then lowered his forehead to the ground, praying a third time. When he finished, he folded his small prayer rug and tucked it into his jacket. It was a peaceful and impressive sight, seeing this soldier take a quiet moment during the midday break to perform the devotions of a true Muslim.

Getting Ready to Continue the Journey

A command was given, and the soldiers quickly got up, slinging their rifles over their shoulders and hopping back onto their horses. We moved on, leaving the shaded trees behind. As we rode, we could see the sunlit landscape ahead. The hills were pleasant, and soon we were riding among them at a steady pace Customized Daily Istanbul Tours.

Challenging Terrain Ahead

However, that pace couldn’t last long. The path soon became steep and rocky, making it impossible for the horses to continue. We dismounted and began walking. The hillside was full of loose rocks and many streams. It felt like walking through a muddy coal mine. We hopped from one rock to another, pausing occasionally to wait for the slower horses to catch up.

Approaching Ochrida

Soon, Ochrida came into view. It was a small town perched on a rock by the large Ochrida Lake. Behind it was a beautiful flat valley, perfectly cultivated—everything seemed to be growing in abundance, like a carpet of fertility.

Arriving in the City

We decided to push ahead of the other travelers from Monastir, as they had their own guard and we weren’t sure when they would catch up. So, we rode on towards the city, organizing ourselves in a respectful manner. Two soldiers with rifles rode ahead, followed by the captain, my guide, and me, with the rest of the soldiers riding in pairs behind us. As we galloped into town, the people came out to watch. Mothers, fearing for their children, rushed in panic, worried that the horses might hurt their little ones. But fortunately, no children were harmed.

Melons Everywhere

Every market I visited in the Balkans was filled with melons. It seemed like the people were living by selling and eating each other’s melons, much like how people in the Scilly Isles make a living by washing each other’s clothes, as Sydney Smith once said.

The Busy Market

The market was loud and busy. It was dirty, but also had a certain charm. It was easy to tell the difference between Greek and Bulgarian women, but not as clear with the men. They had different clothes and physiques. Like peasants everywhere, the women were heavy, solid, and their faces often showed little intelligence Customized Daily Istanbul Tours.

Sometimes, you might see a pretty peasant girl, but hard work, starting early in life, taking care of children, and working in the fields from sunrise to sunset, wears them down. By middle age, the women looked tired and worn out, with faces that showed sadness from struggling to survive.

Life in the Balkans

There are no committees trying to improve conditions here, and no scientific studies about the people’s health. The people live with quiet acceptance, except when it comes to politics and religion. Sadly, half of the children born in Macedonia die from malnutrition.

The Road to Ochrida

We traveled on a flat road that curved around the hills from Resna to Ochrida. There was a shorter path over the hills by a faint mule track, and that’s the one we took. We quickly crossed a plain, then suddenly climbed up into the hills. The path was rough and full of jagged rocks. We leaned forward in our saddles and held onto our horses’ manes as they struggled up the steep, rocky climb.

Through Nature

We passed through a mix of plants and dry, empty land. We climbed through rocky gaps that felt like an oven, and found shade in cool, green areas with trickling water. At the top of a rocky hill, we stopped, turned our horses around, and looked back at the valley we had climbed from. In front of us was a shimmering lake, with a long range of dry, red rocks blocking the view of the world beyond.

Climbing the Mountain

The horses and riders were tired, struggling slowly up the mountain in the intense midday heat. Eventually, we reached a patch of woodland. The trees were old, bent, and twisted from years of strong winds. As we tried to ride through, the branches seemed to grab at us, trying to pull us off our horses. We crouched down, keeping close to the necks of our horses to avoid the branches. But some soldiers weren’t so lucky, and Turkish curses were heard when a branch caught them.

Walking Through the Heat

For a long time, we walked instead of riding. After that, we reached a bare, treeless highland. The ground was dry and hot, burning to the touch. We made a pact to not stop until we reached the top. The horses moved slowly but steadily, dripping with sweat from the effort. There was no wind to cool us down. Our water was warm and unpleasant, and when it ran out, our mouths felt dry and sticky. All I could think about was finding cold, fresh water. Luckily, one of the soldiers knew there was water ahead, so we kept moving with patience Customized Daily Istanbul Tours.

The Summit

When we reached the summit of the mountain, we stopped for a moment to enjoy the relief of a cool breeze. There was a beautiful view of distant mountain ranges, but I didn’t care much about that. All I wanted was to drink some cold water. The horses must have smelled water too, because although the slope was steep, they quickened their pace, struggling to keep their footing on the loose stones that had been washed down by mountain streams.

The Scenery and My Discomfort

The scenery around me was beautiful, but I couldn’t fully enjoy it because I wasn’t staying at a comfortable hotel. The colourful leaves on the trees, the rushing river, and the grey, jagged rocks that looked like castles would have made for a wonderful description if I had been sitting on a hotel porch with no worries except waiting for dinner. Instead, I smoked my pipe, appreciated the beauty, and promised myself to come back when a hotel was built on the hill. Then, I went to the kitchen to check on the chickens that were being boiled.

Simple and Dark Living Conditions

In my room, the only light I had was a candle stuck in a crack in the floor. The floor also served as my seat and table. The soldiers were downstairs by the firelight, singing sad Turkish love songs. I used my boots as a pillow and kept my hands in my pockets to stay warm while I tried to sleep Istanbul Daily Tour.

The Mysterious Dawn

There’s something strange and eerie about traveling through an unfamiliar land at dawn. The light in the early morning is mysterious. As we set out for Elbasan, we all shivered in the cold. We had promised ourselves we’d reach the town by night, but we had to climb higher in the dark. None of us spoke because it was too cold to talk. The leaders of the group stayed close, and we climbed over rocky clefts. The animals hesitated at times, but kept going. As daybreak came, a thin haze covered the world, and clouds hung in the dark ravines below us, making the place look like a giant graveyard.

The Difficult Descent

The path down the mountain was steep and winding. The force of centuries of rushing water had carved deep gaps in the rock, so our route cut into and out of the mountain. Sometimes, the track was so narrow it was only a few inches wide. At times, I held my breath as my horse carefully walked along the edge of a cliff, with a drop of a thousand feet below. My heart raced when one of the soldiers’ horses slipped, but I couldn’t turn around for fear of disturbing my own horse. For a brief moment, the horse struggled to regain its balance, and we all stopped to let the frightened animal calm down.

The Ducks of Elbasan

In most Turkish towns, dogs clean the streets by eating scraps of food. But in Elbasan, ducks do the job. There are hundreds, even thousands, of ducks wandering around the streets. They don’t belong to anyone but eat the trash that is thrown into the alleyways. This is because drainage systems are expensive, and the Albanians manage without them. The smells in the Eastern bazaars, which are often described as exotic, are not as charming in the hot weather as people might think.

The shops in the bazaar don’t have windows; instead, the shops are just open spaces with no glass. The shop owners sit in the middle, hammering copper pots or sharpening daggers. Every man carries a dagger—usually two. The women wear black cloaks and keep their heads down. If a man dares to look at one of these women, her family will kill him. If she looks back with a soft gaze, both of them will be killed. I didn’t try this myself, but I was told that Elbasan is the most dangerous place in Europe to try flirting Istanbul Tour Guide.

The Silk of Elbasan

But the people of Elbasan don’t just quarrel. Some of the finest silk in Europe is made here. The fields around the town are full of mulberry trees, where silkworms are raised. The silk isn’t produced in big factories. Instead, the women in the homes weave the silk by hand. The weaving is done by passing the shuttle from one hand to the other. The silk isn’t as tightly woven as the silk made by modern machines in France, and it’s usually no wider than 36 inches.

But Albanian silk has a special quality and feel that you can’t find in more modern silks. I don’t know how much it would sell for in a European market, but in Elbasan, I bought the finest silk for about two shillings a yard, and I suspect I paid twice as much as an Albanian would have paid. The trade in silk with other countries is broken up into many steps. A merchant might take a load of silk to sell in Monastir or Durazzo. After a series of traders make their profit—first in Monastir, then Trieste, then Vienna—the price of the silk increases greatly. In the end, a lady who wants a dress made from Albanian silk will pay a lot more than I did in Elbasan.

The Violent Reality of Elbasan

Elbasan is a town with about 20,000 people. There’s plenty of space for fights and arguments. In fact, murders in the streets are more common than street fights in English towns on a Saturday night. The Chief of Police, a Turk, told me that around 20 to 30 people are killed every week. He also said that only one out of every ten murderers is caught by the police. The Turkish authorities don’t get involved much. When someone is killed, their friends want to take revenge on the murderer. If the killer is thrown into prison, not only do his friends feel upset with the Turks for interfering, but the murderer’s friends also feel that he hasn’t been given a fair chance in the vendetta.

The Fear of an Outbreak

The Turkish authorities are afraid of an Albanian uprising. They do whatever they can to keep things peaceful. That’s why they don’t try very hard to collect taxes from Albanians, even though they do from other groups. If an Albanian kills a Turk, the authorities often make excuses, saying the Albanian was provoked. To keep the Albanians happy, the Sultan has made sure that his bodyguard in Constantinople is made up of Albanians. He also weakens the power of the Beys (tribal chiefs) by inviting them to the capital, praising them, and giving them medals Istanbul Tour Guide.

Breaking the Tobacco Monopoly

In Turkey, there is a strict tobacco monopoly. If anyone from a different ethnic group (like a Turk, Armenian, Bulgarian, or Greek) tries to break the government’s tobacco rules, they risk being thrown into prison. However, in Elbasan, the tobacco rules are ignored. Tobacco is sold openly, and the soldiers in my escort were involved in this illegal trade. They stuffed their bags, pockets, and even their pistol holsters with tobacco to sell it for a profit in Macedonia. I noticed that they went without food to make more room for tobacco. The captain of the guard knew what they were doing, and he smiled when he saw that I knew too. Later, I learned that each soldier made a small profit (about two medjedehs), as this tobacco was much better than the one sold by the government.

Albanian Society and Unity

The Albanians can be compared to the Scots. In the northern highlands, they live in clans, while in the more fertile southern lowlands, the clan system is not present. Despite differences, like the Scots in the past, Albanians share one common bond—hatred of the Slavs.

Because of their fierce passion for fighting, other nations have feared them. This has left the Albanians mostly to themselves. The lack of roads, difficult mountain passes, and tribal rivalries have made each region isolated and self-sufficient.

A Fierce Sense of Honour

The Albanians have a strong sense of honour. A woman can travel safely in Albania because she is seen as weak, but an Albanian man would not hesitate to shoot someone for a small insult, just as he would shoot a dog that barked at him. There is a sense of deep independence Istanbul Day Tour.

Albanian Beliefs and Customs

The Albanian has no art, literature, or national politics. He doesn’t think of himself as an Albanian separate from other races, but his honour is the most important thing to him. His honour includes many things:

He is not a thief, though he is allowed to take the belongings of the man he kills.

He will never rob a man who is unarmed. To him, that would be dishonourable.

He will not harm a woman. By tradition, he is allowed to shoot any man who interferes with his women, so he keeps his hands and eyes off other men’s women.

It is not fear of punishment that keeps him moral. The Albanian is not afraid of bullets, but his honour makes him respect the vulnerability of women, as they cannot fight back.

A Difficult Time in Berat

Feeling Sick and In Pain

I had a fever for a couple of days, and I only started to feel better after I went up into the hills in pain, hoping it would help. Because of this, my memories of Berat are not as pleasant as I would like them to be. I had bad sleeping conditions and mainly ate quinine to help with the fever. If I had been feeling better, I would have left the first morning, but I was so weak, and I couldn’t find anyone to guide me through the mountains to Koritza, which was to the east.

Trying to Find a Way to Koritza

I had maps from Austria that showed a route, but when I asked the Governor of Berat about it, he didn’t know of any path. I told him I was heading back to Monastir, but I couldn’t explain that I wanted to go by land. The Governor kept suggesting that I should go to the coast, to Yalona, for example, where I could catch a boat to Salonika and then take a train to Monastir. It seemed like an easy and comfortable journey compared to crossing the mountains, which he said no one had ever done before Istanbul Day Tours.

Speaking to Muleteers

I tried talking to muleteers, but it wasn’t easy. I had to communicate through two people: my dragoman who spoke Turkish, and the captain of the guard, who spoke both Turkish and Albanian. The muleteers only spoke Albanian, so a lot of information was lost in translation. The captain didn’t want to go and kept saying that there were no villages, no food, and the mountain paths would be too dangerous for the horses, especially in the rain.

Abandoning My Plan

Because of all this, I had to give up my plan to cross the mountains to Koritza in the way I wanted. I thought I could have made the journey in three days, even with the tough terrain.

A Surprising Discovery

A week later, when I reached Koritza using a different route, everyone there told me that the journey between Koritza and Berat was common, and that although it took muleteers three days, anyone traveling fast could easily do it in two! This kind of difference in information is what makes it so hard to understand the thinking of people from the East.

Climbing the Hills

On a hot, sunny day, we slowly made our way up the hill. Along the way, we met many Albanians. They weren’t wearing the cotton kilt seen in pictures. Instead, they wore white, tight-fitting trousers made from thick material with a black stripe down the side of each leg. Their shirts were loose and full, and their caps were white or black with a collar-box shape. They didn’t wear the fez, showing that they didn’t acknowledge Turkish rule. Most of them rode quick, neat ponies.

The Signs of Danger

The captain of our escort had been warning us about danger, but the best sign of it came when we saw the Albanians. Instead of carrying their rifles behind their shoulders, they had them across their laps as they rode. This showed they were ready for anything Customized Daily Istanbul Tours.

A View from the Top

From the top of the dry hill, we saw a wide plain below. To the left was the dark, still water of Presba Lake, and to the right, we could just make out the small town of Resna. Resna was a welcome sight because hunger had started to set in, and we planned to stop there for food and rest in the heat of the day.

Market Day in Resna

It was Saturday, market day, and the market was full of Christian villagers, mostly Bulgarian, with some Greeks. The market was crowded with all kinds of produce. The Turks were few, and the Albanians were still in the hills. This was an interesting mix for Macedonia, as Resna was a town with both Bulgarians and Greeks. Politically, they were rivals and sometimes fought each other, but today, they weren’t fighting. They were busy with something else: selling melons.

Finding the Right Path

Using the Compass

I used my pocket compass to know the direction, and my maps showed that the valley would lead to Berat. For an hour, we struggled through the tough terrain. Finally, we found a trail and followed it. Soon, we met a peasant with a couple of mules who helped us. He told us that instead of staying in the valley, we could take a shortcut over a hill that would save us three or four hours.

The Old Roman Path

We took the shortcut. It was part of an old Roman road, made of huge stones that were worn down into deep cups by years of use. There was a real risk that one of our horses might break a leg. The path was steep like stairs and was covered with trees. We had to bend down so that our cheeks were against the horses’ manes. The trees were so thick that, in some places, it felt like we were going through a tunnel Istanbul Day Tours.

The Roman Legions

I hoped that the Roman legions had an easier time traveling on this path than the Turkish soldiers and I did that rainy afternoon. The only comfort we had was knowing we were on the right road.

Clear Skies and Beautiful Views

When we reached the mountain top, the rain stopped, and we saw the clearest blue sky. Below us, the valleys were filled with thick clouds.

Reaching Berat

Despite the wet and difficult day, we were excited to finally see Berat. The city isn’t easy to find. It sits on a large, black rock that guards the entrance to the valley. In the sunlight, it looked like a medieval fortress, with tall walls and towers. But Berat has grown over time, and now it stretches down a slope toward the River Arum. There’s also a beautiful Roman bridge nearby.

The City’s Poor Conditions

Even though the upper city looked amazing in the sunset, all romantic thoughts disappeared as we walked through its gates. The upper city was very dirty, and the lower city was even worse. I was told it hadn’t rained for three months, but now, after a couple of days of rain, the sun was shining on the damp mess. The conditions were terrible.

The upper town is mainly home to Albanian Christians, while the lower town is mostly inhabited by Albanian Muslims. Both parts of the city seemed to be competing to see who could make the place the most unhealthy, with horrible smells and fever-causing conditions.

A Lonely and Wet Journey

The Quiet and Difficult Start

For the first hour or two, we traveled in silence. No one said anything. The only sound was the splash of the horse hooves in the muddy ground.

A Dreary Landscape

As daylight slowly arrived, there was no sense of joy. The land was flat and swampy, with many fast-moving streams that crashed angrily over large rocks. We often had to follow the curves of the streams for a long way before we could find a place to cross. The water sometimes rose up to our knees or higher, and there were moments when the animals almost lost their balance in the cold, swirling water, nearly causing an accident Istanbul Day Tours.

Crossing Many Streams

I lost count of how many times we crossed the streams, or even crossed the same stream multiple times. When it rains heavily, the entire valley, which is about two miles wide, can turn into a river. The path was muddy, with patches of willows, and we had to walk over grey cobblestones.

Continuous Rain and Difficult Conditions

It kept raining. I was wearing a well-known raincoat, but even it got soaked through. The soldiers were bundled up in heavy cloaks. They were so sad that they didn’t even smoke cigarettes, which showed just how gloomy the mood was. We stood in the rain, sheltering under our horses, and ate wet bread for our lunch.

A Brief Glimpse of Hope

For a brief moment, the clouds broke, and far to our left, we saw the peak of Tomorica, the large mountain in Central Albania. But the rain soon returned and hid the view from us.

Losing the Way

As if things weren’t bad enough, our guide lost his way. It wasn’t surprising in such a desolate place, but the Turks and I cursed him for being so clueless. He led us up streams, made us climb steep mud banks, and took us on long detours. Eventually, he admitted that he had never been to Berat before. He had only thought he knew the way based on what a few mule drivers in Elbasan had told him.

A Difficult Journey to Berat

Starting the Journey

Berat is located almost directly south of Elbasan, but I don’t know the exact distance. In the East, people don’t measure by distance but by how long it takes. The journey to Berat took fourteen hours, with only two short breaks of half an hour each. It rained for almost the entire trip, except for the last half hour.

We were supposed to leave at 2 AM. My Albanian guide, my dragoman, and I were ready, but the Turkish soldiers didn’t want to leave in the rain and darkness. After two days in Elbasan, with its coffee houses and cheap tobacco, the soldiers had become lazy Istanbul Day Tours.

Delays and Difficulties

Eventually, some of the soldiers were ready, and we started our journey. The guide led the way on a slow horse that made a lot of noise but didn’t move very quickly. We made our way through the dark streets of Elbasan, passing ducks and soldiers.

Mirdites and Tosks Different Customs

The customs of the Mirdites and Tosks are very different. The Mirdites try to have some form of government, but the decisions are mainly made by the leaders of the strongest clans. Their laws are strict and sometimes harsh. One interesting tradition is the practice of adopted brothers. Two men can swear to be brothers, and their relationship is so strong that their children cannot marry each other. The Tosks are more hardworking than the Mirdites, and some of their leaders, called Beys, become relatively wealthy.

Albania’s Relationship with Turkey

While the Albanians would like to be free from even the small amount of control the Turks have over them, this control prevents the country from falling into chaos. The Turkish rule keeps the clans from fighting each other and stops the Italians from taking over the country. As a result, Albania does not have much influence in the Balkans. In a larger uprising, the Albanians would fight the Turks, but since they cannot unite, they have no political power Istanbul Day Tours.

Outrages and Violence in Albania

It is not surprising that in such a warlike land, there are many violent acts. For example, the first consul from Serbia to Pristina was killed by Albanians after six months because he refused to leave when they asked him to. The Albanians also expelled the Turkish governors of Pristina and Prisrend because they disliked them, and the Turkish authorities did nothing in response.

Violence Between Albanians and Others

In another case, three noble Albanians at Nich, after a big dinner, took their guns and started shooting at local farmers. One farmer was killed, and another was injured. A few days later, two of the Albanians assaulted a pregnant farmer’s wife. They gathered the farmer’s children, made them sit around a fire, and used shovels to throw hot embers on their arms and legs.

Sofia, an Albanian bandit, led a group of ten men and demanded 575 francs from the Mayor of Doumuntze. If the mayor didn’t pay, he threatened to burn the village down. Sofia had taken the same amount of money from the village the year before. At the same time, Sofia demanded another ransom from a rich man he had kidnapped the previous year. The mayor, fearing for his life, had no choice but to give him fifty dozen Martini cartridges as well.

Finally, near Uskup, a Christian man walked past a group of fifteen Albanian Muslims who were sitting and drinking coffee. One of the Muslims asked, “What if we kill him?” and the Christian man was killed shortly after.

A Guest in Elbasan

Most of my time in Elbasan was spent with the main Albanian gentleman in town, a young man who only spoke Turkish, Albanian, and a little Italian. He had never traveled abroad, not even to Italy. One thing he knew about England was that you could buy good guns there. Owning a double-barrelled English gun was his dream. He also believed that the English were a great people because they were rich.

A Surprising Question About Carnegie

I explained that not all English people were rich, and that some were actually very poor. He seemed puzzled and then asked, “What about Carnegie?” It surprised me that he knew who Mr. Carnegie was. This man, living in the heart of wild Albania, knew that Mr. Carnegie was famous for giving away money. I told him I didn’t know Mr. Carnegie personally, and that it was unlikely he would visit Elbasan Istanbul Day Tour.

Mr. Carnegie’s Generosity

The Albanian man then asked if Mr. Carnegie spoke Turkish, to which I answered that he probably didn’t. He continued, “Isn’t Mr. Carnegie the man who gives away money, money, and more money?” He spread his arms wide to show just how much money Mr. Carnegie must have. He said that if Mr. Carnegie really wanted to be a hero for the Albanian people—like Gladstone or Byron—he should send a million dollars to Elbasan so the people wouldn’t have to work anymore.

I agreed that it was a good idea if Mr. Carnegie could be convinced. But I wasn’t sure why he would choose Elbasan over other places. Perhaps Mr. Carnegie had been so busy that he just hadn’t thought about helping Elbasan yet.

Curiosity of the Innkeeper

The situation became so repetitive that eventually, I had to ask two soldiers to guard the stairs. Despite this, my host’s curiosity could not be stopped. When I decided to wash and shave, I took off my shirt, and he stood by the doorway telling his friends in the street below about everything I was doing. He only spoke Albanian and Turkish, but he would stand for hours listening to my dragoman (interpreter) and me speaking in English. He kept saying, “Wonderful! Wonderful!” because he couldn’t understand how we could understand each other while speaking a language he thought was nonsense.

Strange Habits and Surprises

When I wrote in my diary, he watched me closely with wide eyes, amazed that I wrote from left to right, as it was not the way Turkish is written (which is from right to left). When he learned that my favorite food was Turkish pilau, he invited three cooks from nearby restaurants to come and cook it for me. He pointed at me, proud, and told them this was the honor of their life—to make pilau that I loved Istanbul Day Tour.

The Mystery of Sardines and Cheese

When I opened a tin of sardines, my host was again amazed. He ran and told all his friends about it, and they probably still wonder how the fish got inside the tin. Among the food I had brought with me was a Dutch cheese. He was absolutely astonished. He looked at the red cheese, shook his head, and kept saying, “Wonderful! Wonderful!” He then asked if he could try it, and when he did, he was even more amazed. He told my dragoman that he was more convinced than ever that the English were truly great people, especially if they could grow melons like that!

Limited Communication in Elbasan

There is no regular trade or reliable communication from Elbasan. I wanted to send letters but was told that the post only goes to Monastir once a week, and only if there are enough letters. The route to Durazzo, which would have been much faster for sending a letter to England, was even more uncertain. The transport was unreliable, and no one could say when the letters would be sent, sometimes it would take months.

The Hotel in Elbasan

I was told there was one good hotel in Elbasan, so I decided to stay there. The hotel was a large building with a dark hallway leading into a courtyard where caravans and mule drivers rested. It was located next to a narrow, smelly road. Above the entrance was a covered balcony, and there was an old oil can, sometimes filled with brown water, which was the only place to wash. This meant that when washing, water would spill out onto anyone entering the hotel. There was no proper drain to carry the water away, making the area quite unhygienic Istanbul Day Tour.

The Room at the Inn

I paid about two shillings a night for my own room. The floorboards were warped, which allowed rats to come in and out freely. I could even see the horses, pigs, ducks, and hens from the stables below through the gaps. The smell was similar to that of a barn. The weather was very humid, and it rained a lot during the two days I was in Elbasan, which gave me a constant headache.

The Innkeeper’s Hospitality

The landlord of the inn was a large, deep-voiced Albanian who had met Europeans before. He seemed excited to show off his knowledge of the world. He would often bring his friends to meet me, insisting that I shake hands with all of them. It was clear that he enjoyed displaying his connections and making sure everyone knew he had foreign guests.

Clan Feuds and the Fragile Truce

A few years ago, the powerful Beys of Albania came together in Elbasan and made a truce to stop their ongoing clan feuds. They agreed that members of rival clans should not be killed on sight, and for a while, this rule worked. However, you cannot change the way an Albanian behaves just by making an agreement. The truce has since ended, and once again, guerrilla warfare is the norm.

Isolated Valleys and Different Customs

The valleys of Albania are so isolated and disconnected, not just from the outside world but from each other, that in just half a day’s ride, you can notice different styles of clothing. For example, in one valley, the men wore tight, thick felt caps that looked like white smoking caps. In another valley, the men wore tight-fitting linen skull caps. Further on, you could find men with black felt caps Istanbul Tour Guide.

Constant Feuds Between Clans

The Albanian clans are always in conflict, and if they could unite, they could push the Turks out of Albania in one year. However, the feuds don’t just happen between different clans; they even occur within the same clan. Many Albanians don’t die from diseases, but from disagreements.

The Vendetta A Never-Ending Cycle of Revenge

When an Albanian kills someone, they must flee to the mountains because the dead person’s family will hunt them down to get revenge. Sometimes, the person seeking revenge gets killed too. Then, the family of the person who was killed will start a war with the family of the murderer. This is how a vendetta begins, and it can last for years. The fighting doesn’t always happen face-to-face. Often, revenge is carried out with a bullet from behind a rock or a stab in the back during the night.

Murder as a Part of Life

Murder is so common in Albania that it is not seen as something unusual. The Albanians accept it as part of life. They don’t rely on courts or laws to settle disagreements. Their way of thinking is simple and primitive: if someone offends you, you take action by killing them.

The People of Elbasan and Albania

If the Albanians were to stop their family feuds, end their clan wars, and come together as one nation, Elbasan would be the capital. It is the most central town in Albania. However, this is unlikely to happen as long as the current fighting spirit remains in the hearts of the mountain warriors.

The Fierce Independence of the Albanians

Like other mountain people around the world, Albanians are more independent, defiant, and sometimes aggressive than those who live on flatter land. In the northern part of Albania, in the Dibra district, the hatred of the Turks is so strong that a Turkish person’s life is not safe. In the southern parts, the anger towards the ruling power is less intense, and it decreases as you move further south. By the time you reach the Greek border, the resentment is almost gone Istanbul Tour Guide.

Differences in the People of North and South Albania

A week of hard travel by horse will take you from the north to the south of Albania. Along the way, you will notice big differences in appearance. The northern people are shorter, darker, and have sharp, watchful eyes, ready to defend their honor or confront anyone who insults them. Albanians today come from many different backgrounds—Italian, Greek, Slavic, and Bulgarian. Their ancestors fled to these mountains many years ago to escape foreign conquerors. While they have often united against outside invaders, old tribal rivalries have never disappeared.

Albania and Scotland: Similarities Between Two Warrior Cultures

To give a simple comparison, Albania’s situation is similar to Scotland’s Highlands in the 16th century, when the clans were constantly fighting each other. Many times, I thought about the similarities between Albania and Scotland. Some parts of Albania look just like the Scottish Highlands. Both places share a deep love for their country. Just like the Scottish Highlanders, Albanians quickly take offense and are ready to fight anyone who disagrees with them. The Albanian quilted petticoat looks similar to the Highland kilt. And, if you were to hear Albanian music in the hills, you might almost think you were listening to the sound of bagpipes.

The Albanian Clan System

The Albanians respect the authority of their own Bey, or chieftain, but they reject the rule of the Turks. Each clan leader has the power to punish any member who goes against the tribe’s interests. Every valley in Albania has its own Bey, and many of these valleys are in a state of war with each other. Clansmen are often too afraid to cross into neighboring valleys for fear of being attacked. This caused me problems because it was hard to find guides who could lead me over the mountains to reach the villages or towns I wanted to visit. Many guides either didn’t know the route or were afraid to take me because of the danger.

The Road to Elbasan

Turkish officials at Elbasan were happy with the “carriage way,” as they called it. However, they ignored the fact that before you could reach this road from Struga, you would have to travel through about forty miles of wild mountains. And, on the Elbasan side, you would need to cross the Skumbi River at least five times, and the route along the hillside was no wider than a footpath. When I suggested that the difficult, rocky parts of the road should be improved, the usual response was, “Yes, but that is the hardest part, so we don’t do it.”

Failed Road Construction Projects

A year or two ago, an Italian engineer was hired to help build a better road. He started on an easy slope in the hills and spent a lot of money cutting out a broad path. However, the road didn’t lead anywhere useful and stopped where the rocks began. The Turkish officials decided the engineer should go back to Italy. Now, the road that was built is useless. No one uses it because it is harder to travel on than the old, rough track that people have been using for years Istanbul Tour Guide.

Challenges in Reaching Elbasan

Even when you reach the Skumbi River, there is still a lot of thick scrub to push through, many streams to cross, and several miles to walk up a small, slow-moving stream before finally reaching Elbasan. On the day we arrived in Elbasan, we had been riding for fourteen hours.

The Central Town of Albania

Elbasan is an important town in Albania. It is similar to the Highlands of Scotland in the 16th century, where constant fighting and warfare were common. Albania has a long history of guerrilla warfare, with many people fighting for control of the land.

Violence in Elbasan

In Elbasan, there are around twenty or thirty murders every week. The town is full of danger and lawlessness, and people have learned to live with violence. In fact, even ducks are used as scavengers to clean up the remains of the dead.

Albanian Silk

Albania is also known for producing silk, and the country has a long history of making high-quality fabric. Silk production is an important part of the local economy.

The Best Hotel in Elbasan

The best hotel in Elbasan is run by a very focused landlord. The hotel may not be luxurious, but it’s the most comfortable place to stay in the town.

Mr. Carnegie’s Fame

Despite the rough conditions, people in Elbasan have heard of Mr. Carnegie and his fame, showing that even in such a remote area, news of the outside world can still reach them.

The Guards Caution

Even though there was little danger, the captain of the guard remained very careful. He always had two or three of his best soldiers about 200 yards ahead, keeping a close watch. Whenever the road turned, the soldiers spread out to make sure no one could sneak up on me. It was an interesting sight, and I found it a bit funny. It reminded me of the days when I was a child and played “robbers” with my friends.

A Moment of Excitement

One time, we had an exciting moment. We were on flat land when, suddenly, a group of six Albanians appeared from behind some trees. The soldiers in front quickly stopped, turned their horses, grabbed their rifles, and prepared for anything. I admit, when I saw the Albanians coming, I instinctively reached for my revolver. The soldiers got ready to shoot. But, despite their fierce looks, the Albanians didn’t want to fight. They seemed to enjoy scaring the Turks, but ignored them and smiled at me as they rode past Istanbul Daily Tour.

Reaching Kjuks for the Night

In the distance, we saw our destination for the night – a new inn, or han, in a place called Kjuks. It was on a rocky ledge overlooking a beautiful valley, with mountains stretching as far as we could see. As the sun set, the valleys grew darker, and the mountain tops glowed in a soft rosy light. It was a stunning scene, perfect for a relaxing holiday. But, of course, in these modern times, we prefer to enjoy nature while also expecting a good dinner and comfort afterward.

The Han at Kjuks

Unfortunately, there was no good dinner waiting at Kjuks. The han looked beautiful from afar, but up close, it was just like any other simple han. It was a big, dirty barn with whitewashed walls that were peeling. The kitchen was a small fire on the ground, and the rooms had windows, but no glass in them. There was no furniture—just dirty boards on the floor.

Settling In for the Night

I took three of the rooms. I gave the largest room to the soldiers, another to the captain of the guard and my guide, and kept the smallest room for myself. We made tea and drank a lot of it, even though it was smoky. Then, we spent an hour trying to buy three chickens to add to the rice the soldiers were carrying in their saddlebags.

Albanians and the Turks

Why I Had an Escort

Let me explain why I had an escort. I didn’t pay anything for it. The Turkish authorities didn’t send the escort because they wanted to honor me personally. In fact, I would have preferred to travel alone with my guide. However, the Turks knew that if I traveled alone, there was a big chance I could be captured by one of the revolutionary “bands” in the hills. If that happened, there would likely be a conflict, and I wouldn’t be released until a ransom was paid, which could be anywhere between £6,000 and £12,000, or even more.

To avoid that, the Turkish authorities sent the escort. They wanted to prevent the situation where their country looked unstable, and they also didn’t want to pay a large ransom. The escort was provided because it was safer for them, especially in areas where these “bands” operated Istanbul Daily Tour.

In the Wildest Part of Turkey

This arrangement was fine as long as I was traveling in areas where the revolutionary “bands” were active. However, once I reached the wildest parts of European Turkey, it wasn’t necessary. The Albanians, unlike the Turks, had no reason to harm me. The Albanian people have always been enemies of the Turks, but they don’t have any issue with Europeans, especially with people from England.

When I spoke with local Albanian peasants, they weren’t sure if I was Austrian, German, Italian, or French at first. But as soon as they realized I was from England, their attitude changed. They seemed eager to treat me with respect and honor.

Albanians and the Turks

In general, Albanians can be seen as brigands towards the Turks. However, even though there were bandits in the hills, I was confident they had no intention of harming me. Albanians may kill, but they don’t steal from Europeans. If my guide and I had been wearing Turkish fezzes, we might have had trouble with the bandits. But the Albanian hillmen who might have been watching us from a distance knew we were Europeans and had no interest in causing any problems.

I liked to think, and still do, that instead of the Turkish soldiers protecting me, it was actually me who saved them from being caught in a storm of Albanian gunfire.

Entering the City

The streets of the town were very narrow, almost like alleys, paved with large cobblestones. The houses on both sides were huge and overhung the streets. We entered the town with a lot of noise and excitement. The Chief of Police, along with several police officers, came out to greet us. They had heard about our arrival and were eager to welcome us.

A Wild Encounter

The Chief of Police was a young, sharp-looking man. However, he was riding a very wild and difficult horse, the most unruly one I had ever seen, even compared to horses in Wyoming. When we exchanged greetings, everything went smoothly, but when we tried to shake hands, his horse didn’t seem to like my horse, especially because I was a “Christian.” His horse tried to kick mine into a nearby coffeehouse, and my horse retaliated. For about 30 seconds, the air was filled with the sound of hooves clashing Istanbul Tour Guides.

A Bumpy Ride Through Town

It was customary for the Chief and me to ride together through the town to our place of rest. The streets were so narrow that our shoulders kept bumping into the walls, and our horses kept bumping into each other. This led to more kicking, and the sound of the mounted police and soldiers following us sounded like a train in a tunnel.

No Hotel, but Kindness from Locals

There were no hotels in the town, so some relatives of the dragoman (our guide) at the British Consulate in Monastir, who were Bulgarians, kindly offered their home to us. The dragoman was Greek, but he had married into this Bulgarian family. This was an example of how love can break through political and racial differences in this part of the world.

Our hostess was a widow. Her husband had been killed just a few months earlier by a Turkish enemy right in the street.