Forward to the front!

After an amazingly peaceful night in the party metropolis of Montenegro (Dubrava), we only wanted one thing... to get away quickly. So we decided to set the alarm for 7:30 am. Since Dani forbid me to turn on the air conditioning, I was already awake at 6 am due to the tropical heat in our room and couldn't wait to start our forward escape.

After enjoying the luxury of our own shower once again, we packed our things and went to the reception to check out. But to our surprise, it was unoccupied. No one in sight. After knocking on pretty much every door, we decided to pass the time with breakfast. We took out the fruit and yogurt we bought on the party mile the day before and made ourselves comfortable in our hotel room.

Half an hour later, we made a new attempt and were disappointed again. No chance to check out. Under normal circumstances, I would have simply left the keys on the counter. Unfortunately, the lady at check-in had taken our IDs as we were once again broke and the hotel didn't have something as modern as an ATM.

We were getting nervous and decided to call the hotel, even though we were standing 10cm away from the phone. After a short time, the nice lady who had welcomed us so kindly the previous evening appeared and looked at us in bewilderment. 'You want to leave? WHY? You can't leave without breakfast.' She quickly convinced us. No breakfast, no passports! :) So we went up to the roof and there it was: the most amazing and varied breakfast you could imagine. They had EVERYTHING!!! The only problem was, we had already eaten breakfast. So we each ate a small bite and enjoyed a delicious coffee with a sea view before hitting the road towards Albania.

After the Bulli had managed the extremely steep and bumpy mountain pass road, we were now at the border, and for quite a while. We had heard so much in advance! (Drug dogs, demands for bribes, etc.) So we were prepared for anything. Philipp became more and more nervous and wanted to rebuild the Bulli completely ('Dani! Tear off the sunshade! The dogs are coming!!!') and Dani practiced her tried and tested escape reading, when the customs officer looked at us seriously, then waved us through with a friendly gesture. Great. Kind of disappointing. Meanwhile, the funny drug labradoodle and the Bosnians in front of us got the full program with their trunk searched and all the works. We briefly considered starting a smuggling ring with our innocent faces, but quickly dismissed the idea due to Dani's family-related bias (Hello Dad! Don't worry, we're definitely not smuggling anything!).

In addition, we quickly had other worries. In the first kilometers on Albanian soil, it became clear that things were a bit different here. The people suddenly seemed much poorer, the landscape somehow dirtier, and at the first intersection, we were already being begged by children and women with children and a man in a wheelchair. Hm. It made us feel a little different and suddenly we felt disgustingly privileged in our VW camper. The only good thing: We certainly wouldn't encounter a Chinese tour group following us here.

But the somewhat sad first impression of this country would soon be forgotten, because a completely different thought started to rumble inside Philipp. Soon we noticed that in this country, few people seemed to have a lot of money, but almost everyone drove a fancy car. Dani suspected they were imports and was proud of her automotive knowledge. Philipp's idea about this was a little different, but prejudices should neither be fueled nor reinforced in this post.

Anyway, Philipp smelled (once again) the deal of his life. In an abrupt braking maneuver, he steered towards the next roadside vendor, leaving Dani completely bewildered as she looked up from her book. There were wild gestures, the sound of hammering on the car, even wilder gestures, and when Philipp got back in with a squeal of delight, he was 20 euros poorer, but the Bulli was 4 wheels richer, "very new" and "all original". So, at this point, I would like to note: If any of you recently lost their wheels under mysterious circumstances, we take no responsibility for it and we won't give them back. Sorry.

From then on, our mood improved and Albania soon showed itself from its best side: Long, strangely reddish mountain ranges lined up one after the other, white dried riverbeds with black dots that turned out to be flocks of sheep in the valleys, turquoise rivers with white tree skeletons overgrown with ivy and other climbing plants on their banks, strangely lonely little villages where older men grilled corn on the roadside. In short, everything suddenly seemed beautiful and we couldn't stop marveling. And once again, the people here were so humorous and friendly that we felt great again.

Nevertheless, we were overjoyed when we finally crossed the Greek border, it felt a bit like coming home.

The campsite we headed to immediately convinced us. Located near a cute, typical Greek village, it stretches along a slope, very green, very shady, and with its own beach just three steps away from our pitch.

Here we are relaxing, eating very well (the best Greek cuisine with eggplant salad, grilled vegetables, crispy chicken, and lovingly arranged salad), Dani is diligently collecting stones, Philipp is getting worked up about it, we are splashing around in the turquoise blue sea, and we feel really good. Hellas! See you tomorrow.