For the past few months an idea had been forming in my mind. Wild camping is legal in Albania, and I love to camp. I was feeling a bit too comfortable with the whole bus and hostel situation, and wanted a bit more of a challenge. So wouldn’t it be great to buy a tent and do some wild camping on my way through Albania to Greece? I found a rubbish little tent in Montenegro and my idea came to life!
After a night in Berat my plan was to hitchhike with another guy towards the coast and then find somewhere to camp. As I packed up my stuff ready to leave the hostel I struck up conversation with Florence and Tom, a British couple in my room. It turned out that they were driving to the coast and were planning to wild camp in the same location I was aiming for! They invited me to join them and we headed off together. We left the car at the parking spot and walked down the steep path to the beach. The beach was really nice, my first one in Albania! It was small pebbles, with crystal blue water. A tree filled canyon opened up to the beach, with there being some woodlands on the flat before the stones took over. There were a few beach bars on the edge of the trees, and lots of beach loungers and umbrellas out. Not quite the wild, isolated beach we were expecting… Just before it got dark we pitched our tents and cooked up some tuna pasta for dinner. The stars were amazing, and I used my phone’s astrophotography mode for the first time. We went for a drink at the beach bars and discovered a whole campsite in the trees! It was really cool, having a hippie commune vibe to it.
The following day I went for an explore up the canyon, and crossed paths with a Spanish man, Luis, doing the same. We ended up climbing the canyon together, navigating the ropes that were there to help. I only had my birkenstocks so I was glad for his help as he shoved me up the slippier rock faces. A way up we came to a clearing, and Luis asked if I’d like to meditate together. I was a bit taken aback, but in a very embracing mood I agreed. The experience was so balancing and refreshing, if a bit odd. We climbed a bit further before reaching “our end” and then made our way back down - slowly to avoid any injuries. We went our separate ways, thanking each other for the experience we’d just shared. It was a truly wonderful interaction.
By late afternoon we decided it was time to leave the little beach. As we drove I came up with a plan for where I’d spend that evening. Florence and Tom dropped me off in Himare and I went to a hostel where people I’d met previously were staying. I left the majority of my belongings with them, emptying my rucksack to essentials only. The sun was beginning to set at this point so I was in a hurry to get to my sleeping location and get my tent up before it got dark. I had heard about a hidden beach (Filikur beach) round the bay from Himare, only accessible by boat or a risky path with a rope. I thought it sounded like the perfect place to have a proper night of wild camping, ideally having the beach to myself. Because people had warned me that the path down was a bit hairy, when I took a wrong turn and the path became loose rocks down the cliff face I didn’t question it too much. I had to take my bag off to slide down. I would lower my bag down a little and then slide myself down after it. This worked well at first, until the drop was a bit too big and my bag slid then started to tumble and roll down the cliff, picking up speed. Without panicking I slid down quickly after it, knowing I needed to catch up to it. This worked out fine, but left me covered in dirt and with pretty cut up legs and a cut up bum, oops! At this point I saw a man coming up from the beach, and shouted to him if this was the best way down. He exclaimed that I was not on the path! I laughed and asked for his help to rejoin the path. The guy seemed a bit freaked out. The rest of the way down was easy in comparison, it was very steep and bare rock, but the rope meant you could abseil down safely. There was one last couple left on the beach. I found a slightly less pebbley spot to set up my tent (I hadn’t bothered to buy a sleeping mat…). As I did so a boat arrived to pick up the last couple, and they waved me off energetically. I waved back, imagining their view of me - a little girl becoming a dot on the beach, setting up her tent. Their excitement added to my own. Once I’d finished setting up I stripped down naked and swam, washing off all of the dirt from sliding down the cliff and letting the salt help my cuts. I’d already laid out my plethora of food available for dinner - I hadn’t had time to get anything substantial to eat so it was crackers with peanut butter and marmite, a peach and some remaining oat biscuits. I ate sat naked in the entrance to my tent. I felt like I was the only person in the world. I watched the last light go. As it got dark I retreated inside the tent. I watched the lightning on the horizon anxiously, and listened to the thunder with bated breath. Hoping it wouldn’t rain on me tonight, as there was no way my tent was waterproof. The less fun side was the reality of having to sleep alone on a beach… I psyched myself out, with every rock falling from the cliff being someone coming to break into my tent. The ground was extremely uncomfortable, with the jumper under my shoulder blades and a pair of shorts under my hips doing little to soften it. It was clammy and hot, with the layers of salt and sweat on my skin being as uncomfortable as the ground. Weird sand hopper insects had snuck into my tent and would randomly land on me, with one jumping up my nostril at one point. Unsurprisingly, this was not the recipe for a good night’s sleep and I slept poorly. But this lifted the entire experience, making it more real, more memorable and honestly better. At 7am I got up. I sat and took in my view. It really was amazing. In my bikini I ate my banana, feeling like a true beach urchin and loving it. I had one last homemade oat biscuit leftover from the batch I made before leaving Kotor. I nibbled at it, my lips brushing my finger tips occasionally and getting a taste of salt from them. Once I’d swam, and with the first people arriving to the beach, I felt much safer and was able to sleep for a few more hours. In the early afternoon I packed up my tent and climbed back up the cliff, using the rope and following the path this time. I hadn’t showered in a few days; my hair was crunchy with salt; my skin was sticky; I hadn’t had a proper meal in days; my whole body ached from sleeping on the stones and I couldn’t lift my arms above shoulder height; and I was covered in cuts. I was truly elated. It had been amazing. I bought a cold sprite from the shop and had a long shower at the hostel.
I left my tent behind as I left Albania. It had served me well, even just for two nights. I am so happy I made my camping dream happen.