


Mon, 18th
We tried and failed to get an export stamp for the camera equipment that we bought in England; so we can’t reclaim the VAT; we wasted over two hours first thing. Meanwhile the crew went shopping for food on the grounds that not much worth eating will be available in Albania.
Our guests, Alex and Lizzie Catto, arrived straight off the aeroplane just in time to join the boat before we left on our first adventure. Alex, an old Cambridge friend, is tall and grey with a craggy intelligent face. Lizzie is rather shy and charming and a dear sweet friend. We crossed the Corfu channel in flat calm to a point not far from the southern border of Albania. We are heading for the delta of the river Thiamas; a wildlife area famed for its flamingoes and pelicans but the main channel is poorly marked; the river has a very shallow sandbar at its mouth.
The Cattos stayed on board and slept, they were very tired having left home at 2 am. We took the tender to the mouth of the river and found the white stick that is the sole marker. The river mouth was strewn with dead trees and debris and we were unable at first to find the way in and got stuck in the mud many times. Derek stripped off and towed us over the bar.
Once inside the estuary the channel deepened. We saw some flamingoes in the distance but only gulls, swifts and sandpipers close to. It is a dull day and the weather has turned very cold; my hands are cold and numb.
On the left bank among the reeds, I spotted a large brown shape that at first I took to be a cat but I quickly realized was an otter; it slid silently into the water and swam along the shore. We got quite close in the tender and the creature didn’t seem that perturbed by the noise of the engine. It looked like a log floating but under power, after a short while it dived. We saw two more of the creatures and were struck by their large size and how unconcerned they appeared to be by us. After a while cruising up this jungle-like river with tall reeds on each bank, we felt we had to turn back as Capt Tim is keen to get to Saranda in daylight – there are no proper charts in these waters. We were tired and cold by the time we returned to the warmth and comfort of Kalani.
We were greeted at Saranda by a bevy of officials who were all unusually polite and helpful. The reason soon became clear. Our contact here, Arni Tare, is an important local politician and clearly a man of influence. He arrived rather late to welcome us having attended some local political meeting. He and his American wife, Nancy, are coming to dinner on board.
Bruce excelled himself with the food he really is an excellent chef. Arni is a very tall man, I judged him to be 6’3’’ at least but as he said he is shorter than King Lecha. He was a fascinating guest having been brought up here under the Marxist strongman, Enva Hoxa, and apart from a few spells abroad has lived here all his life. He is a forceful man of about 45 who exudes power and confidence. He is involved with an American underwater archaeology project; no doubt we will hear more of this tomorrow. The boat concerned is owned by an American who lives in Key West, a town I know well; we saw the boat in Malta and had a tour of her and her expedition equipment that includes an underwater vehicle. The boat can remain geo stationary while not at anchor by using thrusters and GPS to maintain a position – something that is helpful when doing marine archaeology. They have a license to explore this coast from the government and Arni said that he could have supplied us with the results of their own surveys to use as charts.
He is very taken with Alex Catto and his concentration and attention is mostly directed to him. He is fluent in English with no accent. His height, and nearly bald head, give him an imposing appearance. He answers his phone a number of times at dinner; either a sign that he is rather rude or perhaps he has important and urgent matters to attend to. He is open, charming and friendly. He is kindly coming with us to Butrint tomorrow. He was Director of the Butrint Foundation until he fell out with Jacob Rothschild, the major donor. Arni has given us some ideas for things and places to see that are not well known or easily accessible; it seems his name will permit us to cruise into places normally off limits. I am not sure how happy Capt Tim will be, he is rightly nervous of these uncharted waters.
Tues, 19th.
Saranda, Albania.
Arni Tare comes to collect in the morning to take us to Butrint. He comes in his 4x4 with a taxi in tow to take the others. He drives us the long way round the lake to Butrint through the green Albanian countryside. The towns here are not a pretty sight with uncontrolled urban sprawl and square concrete houses many of which are unfinished.
We go to a small village inhabited by Albanians from the north, all Roman Catholics unlike Arne who is a Sufi Muslim. They are also half as tall as him. The locals now make replica mosaics painted onto wood and pebbles to sell to tourists at Butrint.
He is the most genial and hospitable man and friends it seems with the many locals that stop him en route. The wild flowers are in bloom, mostly the same species as in Corfu. We see a raptor riding high above us but I’m not quick enough with the binos to see it well. I see a tiny Scops Owl alights on a post, it is the owl of Athene and the symbol of ancient Athens. We are lucky to see this nocturnal bird in broad daylight. The distant views of the lakes below and the green hills in the distance are magnificent and Timot gets some great shots on file. Butrint Park is only half an hour away but two hours elapse before we get there.
The site is on a hill that is almost an island with the river on one side and a lake on the other. The area is well wooded and enjoys a view of the sea not far away across the marshes. Inland lies a patchwork of water meadows and a long low hill topped by a settlement of recent date.
Arne gives us a tour of the complex site; it has many layers from Greek through to Venetian and the site is impressive being well wooded and nearly surrounded by water.
The settlement dates from Illyrian times; then the Greeks came and built a shrine; the place was full of snakes and snakes were the symbol of healing, hence the caduceus the staff with snakes twined around it is the modern symbol of medical doctors and pharmacies. As such it became a place of pilgrimage, an ancient Lourdes. A hostel was built and then a theatre; the site remained sacred into roman times and in the Romano-Christian period a baptistery was built with a beautiful mosaic floor and a Byzantine Basilica much larger than seems to be justified by the modest surrounding settlement.
Outside the main enclosed sanctuary area there are Venetian period buildings and a Palace of Ali Pasha, the Turkish ruler of this part of Greece and Albania at the time of Byron and Edward Lear. Lear stayed here with his boyfriend, the aptly named Lushington who went boar hunting in the hills while Lear sketched.
On the journey home we took the shorter coast road. We were shaken by the uncontrolled development of badly built and designed houses, many either half-built or fallen down, that has produced an urban blight and ugliness on an unparallel scale. At least the area surrounding the site of Butrint has been preserved from further encroachment by the establishment of a National Park and its designation as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Wed, 20th
A day at sea; this will be our longest cruising passage from Saranda up to Montenegro. The distance is about 160 nms, which equates to about 18 hours cruising. We plan to arrive in the very early morning tomorrow.
The passage up is calm for us experienced sailors but our guests feel a little queasy because of a rolling swell. The coast is mostly clear of buildings as the high mountains fall sharply down to the coast with little or no flat land and few roads. Some of the tallest peaks still have a little snow on them. The coast has cliffs, caves and tiny coves with sandy beaches that I would love to have time to explore but we must press on as we have a schedule to maintain.
No comments:
Post a Comment