May 6, 2025: Early in the morning, a terrific thunderstorm rolled through the area. Rain poured from the heavens in buckets and thunder rattled the windows. None of that mattered to me since I was tucked safe and dry in a hostel, although it did disturb my sleep.
The thunderstorm eventually passed and I started preparing for the day's hike, said goodbye to Denim, and hit the trail at about 9:00am. The trail went literally right past the front of the hostel so there was no effort to get back to the trail--I was already on it!
I put on my shoes at the hostel, preparing to start another day of hiking! |
The route followed some roads out of town, but somewhere along the way I missed a turnoff and plowed onward in the wrong direction for maybe five or ten minutes. It wasn't really a big deal--but definitely an annoyance. I pulled up Google Maps to see how to get back to the proper trail and it appeared that there was a small path through some olive fields that would hook me back up with where I was supposed to be without having to backtrack quite so far, and I decided to go that route instead.
And it was a pleasant diversion. I followed a gravel road through the olive fields, away from the busy traffic on the street I had been following, and at times the gravel road became a narrow walking path. I passed one woman walking in the other direction along the way, but that was it and after five or ten minutes, rejoined the route where I was supposed to have ended up earlier.
I passed through these olive fields after missing a turn and trying to reconnect with the trail. |
From here, the trail started climbing steeply and steadily into the mountains. First it followed a gravel road, winding its way up the hillside, but I had to slow down a bit when I reached a shepherd with his flock of sheep and goats that blocked the road. I continued following the road, but the shepherd took his flock cross country and I soon found myself behind him again.
This time, however, he tried to talk to me. He didn't speak English, but with a little hand-waving and pointing, I told him that we were heading to Pilur. He said something in Albanian that I couldn't understand, and I tried pulling out my phone to open Google Translate for him to talk into, but he waved that aside and pulled out his own phone and called someone. I could tell that it sounded like a young girl, and I assumed it was probably a daughter or something that spoke English and could translate for us.
They conversed for a couple of minutes then he handed the phone to me and my guess turned out to be correct--it was his daughter, and she spoke English. She explained that her dad wanted to warn us about "angry dogs" ahead, and that it wasn't really safe to continue onward. I actually could hear dogs barking not too far ahead, so I had little doubt that he was right.
"Umm... okay...." I said, wondering what I was expected to do now. I had actually passed a few "angry dogs" along the trek already, not including this shepherd who had a couple of dogs that did not seem pleased to see us when we first arrived (although now they were leaving us alone). My policy for dogs was to pick up rocks and, if they started to threaten me, throw rocks at them. The dogs back off quite quickly when you start throwing rocks at them. I had even learned while hiking the Jordan Trail several years ago that just picking up a rock can often be enough to get them to back off. They know what you're doing! So I'll sometimes just pretend to pick up a rock even if none are around (or even if I already have a rock in hand) as a warning. "Don't mess with us! We can pick up rocks!"
Anyhow, I said we would pick up some rocks and throw them at the angry dogs. It's not like I had a lot of alternatives. Even if I walked some other route, there would likely be other angry dogs! But I also asked what her dad advised.
She asked to be handed back to him, which I did, and they talked a bit more before he gave the phone back to me and she translated that her dad said to wait for a half hour and the dogs would be gone.
How could he possibly know that? I found this a little puzzling, but okay.
The flock of sheep (and some goats) that were blocking the trail. |
I gave the phone back to the shepherd and sat down under the shade of a tree to wait for a bit. The shepherd also hung around, seemingly wanting to make sure I was okay. He talked on his phone with some other people in the meantime, then, after five or ten minutes, he waved to me and seemed to indicate that it was safe to continue onward. It hadn't been a half hour yet--not even close to it.
The only thing I can figure is that he knew the people who owned the dogs up ahead and he had called them to let them know we were walking by and that gave them enough time to put the dogs on leashes because when we passed by the structure, we did see several dogs, but they were all leashed up and of no threat. Still, I carried rocks as I walked by. Better safe than sorry! But I didn't have to threaten any of the dogs with them.
Safely past this obstacle, I powered onward up the mountain, which soon reconnected with the main route again. (Lest you've forgotten, I had decided to take an alternate route through Himarë late yesterday, and had not yet reconnected with the main route until now.)
At this sign, I officially was back on the main trail rather than the alternative I had been following since yesterday. |
At this point, I left the gravel road and followed an actual trail ever higher into the mountains. The air was getting thin up here! I huffed and puffed and beads of sweat dropped from my brow. It was hot. Perhaps not so much in temperature, but combined with the humidity, it was taking a toll. The trail started weaving among pine trees that became an absolute forest in places and the shade was welcome, but it didn't help with the humidity or the stagnant air.
After at least another hour of hiking, I reached the town of Pilur and followed roads the rest of the way into the town center. Pilur is a small town with probably no more than a hundred or two inhabitants, but it was situated on the top of a hill, had wonderful views looking all the way out to the Mediterranean, and provided a nice fountain to fill up with water and a shady place for a break.
What it did not provide, however, were any open restaurants. I was hoping to buy a cold drink or something in town, but the couple of restaurants in the town center appeared to be closed for the season. The only liquid refreshment available was the water from a fountain that people constantly drove up to to fill up empty jugs that they loaded into their vehicles to take home. I was prepared for this eventuality, however, knowing that these smaller towns likely had no public services available. That was the main reason I veered into Himarë, after all--to fill up with groceries for the trail for the next couple of days.
I sat down at a table and wrote in my journal, read my Kindle, played with my Rubik's Cube, and ate some snacks out of my pack.
I stopped for a break here in Pilur's town center. It was a lovely place for a break with views to the Mediterranean, shade, and a nice breeze. |
I spent over an hour there, and it was a pleasant stop. One local guy walked up to me and started trying to speak to me, but he didn't know any English and apparently didn't have a daughter he could call to act as a translator, but I was 't entirely sure he actually had anything important to tell me either. He just seemed like a lonely old guy that wanted to talk with some people, and I was a huge disappointment for him.
Shortly before I planned to keep going, a German couple biked up from the opposite direction and asked if any restaurants were open. "Not that I could find," I told them, and they seemed immensely disappointed about that. Unlike me, they had counted on restaurants being open.
I said that I had some food I could share if they were hungry, but they waved it off and said that they'd be fine--although they would have to fill up with water from the fountain. (As I did.)
I packed up and said goodbye to the Germans on my way out of town. For the rest of the day, the trail led mostly downhill, and my progress went a lot faster. Plus, I sweat a lot less going downhill than uphill.
The restaurants in town, however, were closed up tight. =( At least I could use the tables and chairs outside, though! |
My guidebook warned me about "angry dogs" along a certain section of trail and to be wary of them--the first time my guide mentioned a specific location along the trail with angry dogs so it was a warning I definitely heeded. I filled my pockets with several rocks and kept a couple of them in hand figuring better safe than sorry.
And the guidebook was not wrong. Near that area, a few dogs that had been running loose came running at me like I was prey to be taken down and eaten. I shouted at them and waved my trekking pole around, and I immediately used one of my rocks and threw it as hard as I could at one of the dogs and they immediately paused their attack.
I pulled another rock out of my pocket and I kept yelling at the dogs to "back off" and swinging my trekking poles at them, all the while continuing down the trail and trying to put as much distance between me and the dogs. After a few minutes, the dogs left me alone, apparently no longer in their territory.
The trail passed by a small man-made reservoir, a stagnant pool of water used by livestock that I was happy to pass by since I had filled up with water in Himarë.
The small reservoir that I passed along the trail. |
The trail hopped over a small ridge, perhaps 30 feet high, before plunging down a steep hillside where it flattened out in a small area near a valley bottom. It was only a little after 3:00 in the afternoon, quite early to stop for the day, but the weather forecast called for rain to start sometime between 4:00 and 5:00 and looking ahead on the map, I wasn't sure that I would find a better place to camp for the rest of the stage.
So I suggested to Karolina that we stop to camp for the night right then and there, and seeing the wisdom of my suggestion, agreed to it.
This gave us hours to kill before sunset, and I used the time to read the latest Reacher adventure on my Kindle.
By 5:00, the rain still hadn't started, and I had begun to regret stopping so early in the afternoon. The whole point of stopping was to set up camp before any rain began, but if there was no rain, then there had been no reason to stop so early!
The hours marched onward, and still the rain held off. Some ugly clouds did roll in, but no rain came from them.
However, a little after sunset, I saw a flash. Then another one. The fireflies were coming out!
And as darkness descended, the fireflies came out with a vengeance! Hundreds and hundreds of them, all around the campsite, as far as the eye could see! It was positively magical! It reminded me of one of the best firefly displays I had ever seen while thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail. Wow, wow, wow!
I must have watched them for over an hour, mesmerized by the flashing lights before turning into bed and going to sleep. Maybe stopping so early for this campsite wasn't such a bad idea after all... =D
A post about Albania would not be complete without a photo of more bunkers. =) |
The trail today went quite high into the mountains and was even filled with a proper forest! |
Road into Pilur |
Water fountain in Pilur |
Monument in Pilur |