In which we mingle with Albania's influencer set...

I am, it's fair to say, not the sort of person who photographs their meals, poses in front of hot venues or influences very much, if anything. I understand that there are (mostly) young people who do these things, and I wouldn't stand in their way for one moment, but such behaviour mostly engenders a wry smile and attempts to make sure that I'm out of shot. I hadn't expected to encounter such a phenomenon in Tirana though.

Perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised - Albania has a relatively youthful population, despite significant levels of outward migration. And, in truth given that I don't meet many young people even in the workplace, my grasp on youth culture is tenuous at lbest.

Having found another highly-regarded restaurant, we walked across town and found ourselves in a somewhat dimly-lit street. At least, it was dimly-lit in the context of my gradually deteriorating eyesight but I spotted our destination and walked through the rather stylish entrance to be met by two stick-thin young woman, dressed wholly in black, who were tasked with greeting guests, taking their coats and suchlike.

It was at this point that I began to sense that their idea of "smart casual" and mine were slightly at odds. But the restaurant was still quiet - yes, we were early again - and whilst we had clearly chosen one of the hottest restaurants in town, I take the viewpoint that, if I'm the one paying, then I have the right to be treated properly. Our waiter was charm itself though, and we settled down to peruse the menu.

SALT is one of a pair of restaurants - the other is in Pristina, Kosovo's capital - and the goal is evidently to serve high quality food in an elegant setting. Clearly, they've convinced so far, as we were increasingly surrounded by young people taking photographs of each other and the food, posing in front of the decorations and the like. We focused on the food, pretending that we weren't raising the average age of the customers by a decade or two.

One thing that surprised me was that not only was virtually everyone around us young, but female, which strikes me as not being that common. I suspect that they don't eat much though, and the kitchen were probably grateful for customers who actually eat more than a light salad.

And, it has to be said that the food was very good indeed. I would even go as far to suggest that, if you're in Tirana by any chance, it is well worth a detour. Do book in advance, just in case, but their website is easy to use.

As meals out go, it was a nice way to finish our trip. And we did rather have to be back home...

A day by the seaside, Albanian style

Whilst Albania isn't exactly a big place - just over two hundred miles from north to south and less than one hundred from east to west - it isn't entirely easy to get around. There are, theoretically, at least, trains, but once you leave the major highways, the road system is sub-optimal and the mountainous terrain means that straight lines are few and far between. But Tirana is pretty central and there is a shiny new highway linking it to Durres, the country's main port and access point for ferries from Italy. It's also a city with a history dating back to to the 7th Century B.C.

Sunday dawned bright, sunny and mild, so why not go to the seaside for the day? Now, normally, this would involve me scouring the internet for public transport options but, frankly, there's little in the way of readily available information, time was short given that the sun would set at 4 p.m. and taxis are quite reasonable, we organised a taxi to take us to the seaside. Admittedly, I hadn't given any thought as to how we might get back but...

And for approximately £25, we were whisked to the promenade overlooking the Adriatic Sea. The sun was shining, and myriad Albanian families were out enjoying themselves. Not in the water, or on the beach, because the water wasn't that inviting and what beaches there are are somewhere else, but there's a swish hotel nearing completion (a Crowne Plaza for those interested in such things) and a sense that more visitors would be welcome.

There are plenty of reasonably priced fish restaurants and coffee shops, and it was nice to idly stroll along the shore.

Durres is also famous for something that wasn't rediscovered until the 1960s, its Roman amphitheatre, thought to be the largest every built in the Balkans and capable of holding 15,000 enthusiastic citizens for gladiator fights and the like. It is open to the public but it would be fair to say that it hasn't been developed to the extent that a similar attraction elsewhere might be. What that means is that there isn't much in the way of signage, access is a bit treacherous but it is cheap to visit.

You'll also notice that it has been encroached upon somewhat, the disadvantage of having nobody appreciate that it was there. And maybe, at some point, someone will remedy that but in the meantime, it's still pretty impressive.

By now we were in need of sustenance though. Fortunately, like so many Southern European countries, there's always a readily available sweet treat, and we were able to find a café which served good coffee and an even better piece of cake. Mmmmm... cake...

But it was time to head back to the capital. I had booked a table for dinner...

Just an ordinary Saturday in Tirana…

I may have mentioned that our hotel in Tirana was part of the Air Albania Arena. What I have hitherto failed to mention, and discovered rather late in the day, was that the Albanian national football team were due to play a home UEFA Nations League fixture whilst we were in town. I did think about buying tickets, but they had officially sold out and I wasn’t wildly keen on spending significant sums of money on the grey market to see a game between two teams I don’t really know.

In fairness, the “mystery” element doesn’t phase me that much, as I proved a few years back in Tbilisi. But that was rather cheaper, and there was never a possibility of a full house to see anyone play Gibraltar. The Czech Republic, on the other hand…

And, as it turned out, the Czechs were staying with us - very convenient for the stadium, obviously.

But we had plans.

Tirana has two major parks, one of which was known as “Big Park” and surrounds an artificial lake to the south of the city centre, close to our hotel. And, now that the sunshine had returned, it offered an excellent place for a gentle stroll.

Both Ros and I enjoy strolling through neighbourhoods and parks in new places - they give you a better sense of how real life operates in a way that just visiting tourist attractions never quite can. And Big Park was as good as one might hope, with little stalls selling toys or snacks and drinks dotted about, and Albanians of all ages out enjoying the warmth of a fine November day.

The lake itself is pleasant enough, especially where trees shade the banks, and the park is generally pretty well maintained which reinforced our sense that civic pride is quite strong.

As we walked back towards our hotel though, you could tell that excitement was beginning to mount around the Air Albania Arena, with crowds beginning to flock to the nearby bars and coffee shops. Albania were still in with a decent shot at promotion to League A, with two wins in their final group games, both in Tirana, pretty much guaranteed to get them to the promised land.

We had other plans though, which involved heading across town. As Ros is a member of the European Affairs Select Committee in the Lords, she had contacted our Embassy in Tirana, and an invitation to tea had been forthcoming from our recently-appointed Ambassador. Usually, my role in such events is as “travelling spouse” - Ros is obviously of far more interest to our diplomats than I am - but given that I’m not unfamiliar with international politics, I do chip in with the odd question.

Impressively, Nicholas Abbott is an Albanian speaker, having studied the language prior to being appointed “Our Man in Pristina” in 2019. And, on finding the Residence, we were welcomed in for tea and some rather nice banana bread (and I don’t even like bananas).

Having met a few of our Diplomatic Corps over the years, I’ve always been impressed by their professionalism and enthusiasm and nothing was changed by this meeting. We were told about his outreach programme and about such of the Embassy’s achievements in building relationships between the two countries and, whilst you do need to remind yourself that he is a diplomat, it’s reassuring to know that clever, engaging people are out there, representing us in foreign capitals across the globe.

We tried not to outstay our welcome, after all, it was a Saturday and even Ambassadors need some downtime, so we thanked His Excellency for his hospitality and headed out towards the maelstrom…

The Air Albania Arena seats approximately 21,000 spectators, and there clearly weren’t going to be that many away supporters. The usual sellers of football merchandise were out in force and the bars increasingly packed as the 8.45 p.m. kickoff approached.

I’d planned for this though, having booked a table in the hotel restaurant. Normally, I wouldn’t do that - in so many places, the hotel restaurant in a rather soulless afterthought but, in cities that don’t have many good hotels, that rule is usually suspended. And here, with good cause.

Somewhat to our surprise though, the restaurant, and especially the tables outside, were full of football fans getting the beers in before the game but behaving entirely reasonably. We ate a very good meal and watched a bunch of people with flags and scarves as they slowly filtered away towards their seats in the stadium.

It turned out that, if you had the right room in the hotel, you had a clear view of events on the pitch. We weren’t that lucky although, as it turned out, the game was fated to end as a rather drab 0-0 draw.

It also demonstrated that the soundproofing was pretty good, as 20,000 people left the stadium without disturbing us…

So, about this hip and trendy Albania I was told about...

Normally, when we go places, I take special care to organise dinner on Friday and Saturday nights because, you know how it is, places are busiest and you really don't want to be in a strange city, walking from restaurant to restaurant in the hope that they'll have a table free. I might have been happy enough to wing it in my twenties and thirties but not now.

And, in most places, you can make reservations online and relax in the confidence that regardless of what else happens, you've got a decent meal to look forward to. Guidebooks will suggest the sort of places you might choose. This is not really true in Tirana - there is only one useful guidebook, the Bradt guide - and online booking is still in its infancy.

However, the advantage of staying in a really good hotel is that the concierge will help you with the language barrier and know whether or not a restaurant (a) still exists and (b) is any good. I'd found a fish restaurant relatively nearby which came recommended and so I asked the concierge to make a booking for me, which she kindly did.

The sun sets in Tirana at pretty much the same time as it does in London at this time of year, so it was dark by the time we set off for our gentle stroll to Galeone, some twelve minutes from our sanctuary. And, as we discovered, it's in an area of the city which is rather livelier than the city centre proper, full of cafes, restaurants and young people out enjoying themselves.

The restaurant, however, was seemingly deserted. And that's because Tirana is like so many Southern European cities, a place where people eat late. The service was friendly though, and our total lack of Albanian proved to be no obstacle. As for the seafood, my octopus carpaccio and sea bream were excellent, and the Albanian white wine - yes, Albania is a wine producing country - perfectly drinkable.

One of the things about Albania is that, if you like Italian food, you'll do rather well, as seafood is readily available and the strong historic and cultural links between Italy and Albania - not always voluntary - mean that there is a tradition of awareness of how Italian food should be prepared.

It's clear that, as part of Albania's emergence onto the European stage, that the culinary scene is developing fast. There is plenty of good food to be had, it's relatively cheap by our standards, and there's a strong service culture, with pride taken in presentation and delivery. It reminds me of cities like Sofia and Tallinn where, after the end of Communism, the freedom to do things differently led to a spurt of great restaurants and interesting meals inspired by the available local ingredients.

We weren't going to eat out the next day though...

You probably don't remember me, Gillian Gloyer, but I owe you a debt of gratitude...

This is, it seems, the only guidebook that focuses entirely on Albania. No, there isn't a "Lonely Planet Albania", usually my first choice of guidebook if I'm going somewhere a little of the beaten path. No, if there's a guidebook to the Southern Balkans, you might find a section on Albania, but I guess that the demand isn't there.

I get that. Albania isn't a huge country, with a population of less than three million, internal travel isn't straightforward (don't ask about trains), and there haven't traditionally been many direct flights to Tirana, although that is changing, and fast. But you'd think that there might be more enthusiasm to write guides, especially given that it has increasingly appeared on lists of interesting places to explore.

But no, not yet, is the answer. But Bradt are on the seventh edition of "Albania", so that's what I bought, courtesy of our local independent bookshop, Dial Lane Books (very sound, socially aware, probably knit their own muesli but a great resource in a town that needs more such things).

The name of the author caught my eye though. Gillian Gloyer? That Gillian Gloyer? The legendary Scottish Young Liberal who with others, blazed a trail through the International Federation of Liberal and Radical Youth (IFLRY) in its radical glory days? I did some research. And yes, it is her. Before my time, I admit, but she was still spoken of by the time I arrived in the (very) early nineties.

And the guidebook? Well, the seventh edition is now more than two years old, having been published in June 2022, and suffers as all guidebooks do, from the increasingly rapid development (and failure in some cases) of hotels and, in particular, restaurants, but as a means of guiding your steps and your expectations, it was a very successful purchase indeed. And, if I were to return at some point, with the intention of getting beyond Tirana, I would probably count on it again.

So, thank you, Gillian, wherever you are...

Deep in the Balkans, a long weekend in Albania...

I have now established a tradition that birthdays with a zero in them merit a trip to somewhere new and, potentially, exciting. Admittedly, it's a tradition that might not get much of a run, given that I'm now officially in my sixties, but nonetheless, if in twenty years I report back from Luanda or Dili, you'll know that I'm still in decent form.

But, given that we're been doing a lot of travelling, I wasn't going to be quite so ambitious for this particular celebration. And, I'd heard a lot about Albania - apparently an up and coming destination, now served by British Airways - so, for my seventy-third country, it seemed like a decent choice.

Albania does suggest a rather darker corner of Europe, and its reputation for blood feuds, poverty and isolationism perhaps doesn't appear very inviting, but I'd booked us into a nice hotel - of which more later - and we'd made a few contacts in advance, which offered some reassurance. After all, if somewhere turns out to be truly awful, you can always hide out in the hotel and get some light pampering.

The weather wasn't great when we descended through a rather murky sky into Mother Teresa International Airport - she's a bit of a national hero here, even if she was (whisper it quietly) actually born in modern day North Macedonia. We cleared immigration and customs quickly and found a taxi to take us to the hotel. So far, so good.

Our hotel turned out to be part of the new Air Albania Arena, a rather snazzy facility which, despite appearances, holds the national football stadium. On the outside, expensive shops, cafes and restaurants, with anonymous large gates scattered amongst them which lead to the various sections of the stadium. The tower on the left is the hotel, a Marriott, and we were on the twenty-third floor, virtually at the top.

Our room wasn't ready - we were a bit early in truth - but we were invited to sit in their M Club lounge whilst it was prepared, so no problem there. We were told about the happy "hour" with free drinks and snacks from 5.30 until 8.30, which sounded promising, and invited to call in at any time of day or night to pick up soft drinks or snacks, which sounded even better.

And, soon enough, the room was ready. Nice room, amazing view across Tirana and over to the low range of hills which separate the city from the Adriatic Sea. Admittedly, as usual, there were more buttons to control the lights and even the curtains than I would ideally like, but very nice all the same.

It was time for a little explore, so we walked into the centre of the city. I will admit that, if you're coming in the hope of enjoying some historic architecture, Tirana is likely to disappoint, as it wasn't really anywhere of significance until it became the capital in 1912. And, to be honest, the Stalinist design which did go up after World War II isn't likely to draw impassioned architecture students any time soon.

It was a pleasant enough orientation though and with night falling and the lure of free drinks, we headed back to our hotel. We'd just settled in when there was a knock on the door. Outside was a nice man with... cake and a card.

Yes, they were marking my birthday with what turned out to be a stunningly rich chocolate cake, more than enough to share between the two of us - note the healthy fruit on top - with a convenient sign made out of more chocolate.

And that's why, when you sign up for a hotel chain's frequent guest programme, you give them your birth date...

As we ate our cake, in anticipation of a pleasant evening in the M Club lounge, I relaxed. Everything was going to be just fine...