Average Speed: 13.8 km/hr (8.6 mph) / 17.5 km/hr (11 mph)
Distance Cycled Last Two Days: 44 km (27 Miles) / 116 km (72 miles)
Distance Cycled Total: 3423 km (2126 Miles)
Mood: Awesome
It's the hands.
Some of the Usual Comments after a long ride have to do with what hurts:
Your legs must be killing you!
Nope. Not at all. After a week and a half, they forget how to be sore.
Your poor ass!
Not really. In fact, most of the time it's actually a pleasure to take a seat on that saddle... even after a long day.
Your back...
Fine.
The sun on your skin...
Rarely wear sunblock.
It's the hands.
Those suckers never quite get accustomed to gripping handlebars all day. They turn into a
pair of lobster claws and go numb. At least for me they do. Once in a while, in order to get feeling back, I start slapping one hand at a time across my own ass.
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| A Peddler's Mode of Transport in Albania. (Pun Intended) |
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| A cyclist's tan lines |
Some of the Usual Comments after a long ride have to do with what hurts:
Your legs must be killing you!
Nope. Not at all. After a week and a half, they forget how to be sore.
Your poor ass!
Not really. In fact, most of the time it's actually a pleasure to take a seat on that saddle... even after a long day.
Your back...
Fine.
The sun on your skin...
Rarely wear sunblock.
It's the hands.
Those suckers never quite get accustomed to gripping handlebars all day. They turn into a
Hard.
I do this without a care in the world as to who's watching.
Imagine you're... I dunno... anyone, and you're behind a cyclist who looks quite normal, and then all of the sudden, the guy just starts violently spanking himself. That's a conversation piece right there. Probably looks like I'm trying to atone for serious sinnage in some sort of no-name cult religion.
And the hands take far more abuse than normal when the road surface is shitty.
Welcome to Albania. The land of shitty, shitty road surfaces. Whether you're a pedestrian, a car, or a cyclist- if you take your eyes off the road, there is a strong chance you will find yourself in a pothole- nay- chasm with little hope of finding your way out unbroken. And watch out for those water drainage openings... they're not covered. A small child could easily be swallowed up by one of those... and if you've ever read Stephen King's It... Even cars have serious difficulty finding a drivable path.
BUT- this country has grown on me tremendously in the past couple of days. Yes, there are rancid litter heaps along the roadsides. Yes, I've passed hundreds upon hundreds of stray dogs. But the people are fantastic. And that makes a huge difference.
Norway with it's pristine- almost utopian- cleanliness would be horrified at some of the Albanian conditions, but people are outwardly friendly once again.
If I stop on a roadside, it's not uncommon for the car behind me to stop and offer me a ride or directions, even though I need neither.
Nearly every child walking alongside the road wants a high five when I pass.
Waiters, police officers, and hostel owners engage in long and sincere conversations.
This started as soon as I crossed the border, although I failed to write about it the other day as I tried to cleanse my palate of the horrible ride to Tirana.
My first introduction to Albanian kindness was when I bought a new SIM card for my phone at a small, family run market. The process of buying a SIM card is not exactly easy, and although the sign outside advertised that they sold them, I'm pretty sure it was their first time going through the process of actually activating and installing it. I was in there for forty-five minutes.
During that time, five customers came in, and the owner gave each four kisses on alternating cheeks accompanied with a firm grip in the midsection and a sincere look in the eyes. Buying a dozen eggs? Four manly kisses. Carton of smokes? Four kisses. Milk? You get four for that!
And when the owner acted like his favorite soccer team scored a goal after he got my SIM card to work, running around and jumping and shouting all sorts of victory, I was all set for a beard-to-beard kiss fest.
I got a handshake instead.
It was a really nice handshake, though. Really.
But part of me wished I bought some eggs.
Anyway, I'm glad I chose to head out of the (skippable) city of Tirana and head toward the coastal town of Durres. It was a very short ride and I pedaled lazily. The hills returned, but I doubt I burned more than six calories.
I met up with two other bike-packers at a guest house, Inka and Fabi: nineteen-year-olds in their fifth month (!) of a nine month (!) cycle tour.
They are mature.
They are pensive.
They are wise beyond their years.
Everything I'm not.
After leaving the Pay-What-You-Want-To-Pay hostel, we parted ways for different destinations. They left an hour after I did. But because Fabi suggested an App other than Google Maps for me to use for navigation, I was taken on a wild route made up of bridges with stairs to climb and roads with miniature boulders embedded in sand.
They caught up to me no problem when I finally found a paved road that paralleled their route, and they steered me in the right direction. In fact, although we only pedaled 20 km together, I'm gonna go ahead and mark off "Pedal a Day with a Stranger" on the Bingo Board.
And even though we both had a long way to go that day, the route was flat and we were moving fast. Surely we could afford the time for a long lunch break (3 meals, 2 appetizers, 4 sodas... 10 dollars. Albania is SUPER cheap).
But I was still using the App Fabi had suggested after we parted ways the second time... and that App decided that I needed a detour... up a long and winding mountain with a 12% grade.
That'll slow you down.
No big deal, I thought. I don't mind the workout, and besides, I'll have an amazing downhill, right?
Wrong.
Actually, I shouldn't say "Wrong." It was an amazing downhill... just amazing in a different way.
See... the problem was that the road I was cycling up suddenly ended at the top of the mountain. As far as I could tell, there was no way down other than the way I came up. This was confirmed by the man selling potato chips at the summit. I have no idea to whom he was selling said chips. As far as I could tell, not many people sojourn to where I'd landed. Business strategies seem odd in Albania.
Eventually, I saw a dirt trail that looked like it went downhill, and when I asked him if that was the way down, his eyes widened. This was a trail for goats. Not people.
"You cannot go down that way with a bicycle, Impossible. No good."
But my new App was insistent, and after a little back-and-forth, I decided that the App knew more than the local man. He pointed to the nearby chapel and suggested I say a prayer first. I threw the earbuds in, queued up Green Day's American Idiot, and went for it.
American Idiot indeed. Mr. Pringles was right. That was 8 kilometers of dangerous insanity. It took over an hour to reach the bottom. I know because I got there just as the album finished. Unpacked sand, deep ruts, giant rocks... this trail would've been difficult to hike. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't fall more than a few times.
Feel free to take a portion of the time-lapsed ride with me:
Perhaps most upsetting was that the trail eventually led back to the same flat road that I had left to go climb the mountain in the first place. Whatever. It was an experience. Thanks for the App, Fabi!
I arrived into the city of Vlore and found the night's $9 hostel later than originally expected, well past dark. But heck- a new cast of characters was waiting for me there.
And the guy who runs the market in the alley across the way loudly sang Christmas songs to me as he sold me a few cans of the locally made brew.
It's hard to call it anything less than a great day, and Albanian hospitality more than makes up for the occasional eyesores.
I'd give you a round of applause, Albania, but I can't today.
My hands are friggin' killing me.
Imagine you're... I dunno... anyone, and you're behind a cyclist who looks quite normal, and then all of the sudden, the guy just starts violently spanking himself. That's a conversation piece right there. Probably looks like I'm trying to atone for serious sinnage in some sort of no-name cult religion.
And the hands take far more abuse than normal when the road surface is shitty.
 |
| And this is a good section... |
 |
| Typical roadside litter |
 |
| Typical stray dog |
Norway with it's pristine- almost utopian- cleanliness would be horrified at some of the Albanian conditions, but people are outwardly friendly once again.
 |
| Hungry, hungry kittens! |
If I stop on a roadside, it's not uncommon for the car behind me to stop and offer me a ride or directions, even though I need neither.
Nearly every child walking alongside the road wants a high five when I pass.
Waiters, police officers, and hostel owners engage in long and sincere conversations.
This started as soon as I crossed the border, although I failed to write about it the other day as I tried to cleanse my palate of the horrible ride to Tirana.
My first introduction to Albanian kindness was when I bought a new SIM card for my phone at a small, family run market. The process of buying a SIM card is not exactly easy, and although the sign outside advertised that they sold them, I'm pretty sure it was their first time going through the process of actually activating and installing it. I was in there for forty-five minutes.
During that time, five customers came in, and the owner gave each four kisses on alternating cheeks accompanied with a firm grip in the midsection and a sincere look in the eyes. Buying a dozen eggs? Four manly kisses. Carton of smokes? Four kisses. Milk? You get four for that!
And when the owner acted like his favorite soccer team scored a goal after he got my SIM card to work, running around and jumping and shouting all sorts of victory, I was all set for a beard-to-beard kiss fest.
I got a handshake instead.
It was a really nice handshake, though. Really.
But part of me wished I bought some eggs.
Anyway, I'm glad I chose to head out of the (skippable) city of Tirana and head toward the coastal town of Durres. It was a very short ride and I pedaled lazily. The hills returned, but I doubt I burned more than six calories.
 |
| I'm twice their age. Ouch. |
I met up with two other bike-packers at a guest house, Inka and Fabi: nineteen-year-olds in their fifth month (!) of a nine month (!) cycle tour.
They are mature.
They are pensive.
They are wise beyond their years.
Everything I'm not.
 |
| Thanks for this, Fabi! |
After leaving the Pay-What-You-Want-To-Pay hostel, we parted ways for different destinations. They left an hour after I did. But because Fabi suggested an App other than Google Maps for me to use for navigation, I was taken on a wild route made up of bridges with stairs to climb and roads with miniature boulders embedded in sand.
 |
| Riding with Fabi |
They caught up to me no problem when I finally found a paved road that paralleled their route, and they steered me in the right direction. In fact, although we only pedaled 20 km together, I'm gonna go ahead and mark off "Pedal a Day with a Stranger" on the Bingo Board.
And even though we both had a long way to go that day, the route was flat and we were moving fast. Surely we could afford the time for a long lunch break (3 meals, 2 appetizers, 4 sodas... 10 dollars. Albania is SUPER cheap).
 |
| Top of mega-climb (Photo Credit: Guy selling potato chips) |
That'll slow you down.
No big deal, I thought. I don't mind the workout, and besides, I'll have an amazing downhill, right?
Wrong.
Actually, I shouldn't say "Wrong." It was an amazing downhill... just amazing in a different way.
See... the problem was that the road I was cycling up suddenly ended at the top of the mountain. As far as I could tell, there was no way down other than the way I came up. This was confirmed by the man selling potato chips at the summit. I have no idea to whom he was selling said chips. As far as I could tell, not many people sojourn to where I'd landed. Business strategies seem odd in Albania.
 |
| Just follow the goats... they know the way. |
Eventually, I saw a dirt trail that looked like it went downhill, and when I asked him if that was the way down, his eyes widened. This was a trail for goats. Not people.
"You cannot go down that way with a bicycle, Impossible. No good."
 |
| Not for road bikes... or anything really |
But my new App was insistent, and after a little back-and-forth, I decided that the App knew more than the local man. He pointed to the nearby chapel and suggested I say a prayer first. I threw the earbuds in, queued up Green Day's American Idiot, and went for it.
American Idiot indeed. Mr. Pringles was right. That was 8 kilometers of dangerous insanity. It took over an hour to reach the bottom. I know because I got there just as the album finished. Unpacked sand, deep ruts, giant rocks... this trail would've been difficult to hike. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't fall more than a few times.
Feel free to take a portion of the time-lapsed ride with me:
Perhaps most upsetting was that the trail eventually led back to the same flat road that I had left to go climb the mountain in the first place. Whatever. It was an experience. Thanks for the App, Fabi!
 |
| Another fun place to crash |
I arrived into the city of Vlore and found the night's $9 hostel later than originally expected, well past dark. But heck- a new cast of characters was waiting for me there.
 |
| CHEERS FOR THE BEER, BECKY HILL! |
And the guy who runs the market in the alley across the way loudly sang Christmas songs to me as he sold me a few cans of the locally made brew.
 |
| If you can get past the burning trash on the roadside... there's a chance you'll love Albania |
It's hard to call it anything less than a great day, and Albanian hospitality more than makes up for the occasional eyesores.
I'd give you a round of applause, Albania, but I can't today.
My hands are friggin' killing me.
P.S.
"Waiter, what's this fly doing in my pasta?"
"Looks like he's being a real Penne Pincher!"
yuk, yuk, yuk!
Fabulous blog!
ReplyDeleteI'm wondering how the bike held up? Wonderful blog!
ReplyDeleteOMG! Hilarious-inspiring-crazy -insightful all in one blog! Loved it! I see book Number 2 in your future!
ReplyDelete