Despite being rough and ready in some places, we found Albania to be really welcoming to families.
“Good morning my friend! I’ve missed you!”
Manuel scoops up our son and enfolds him in a hug before delighting him with a chase through the restaurant. Finley’s squeals of laughter echo through the family-run hotel in the tiny village of Qeparo where we’re staying on the Albanian Riviera.
Easy access to white pebbled beaches, azure water and views of Greece make this a relaxing spot to enjoy delicious locally sourced Albanian cuisine. But the food and landscape are not the only reasons my husband and I have fallen in love with this country.
Our two-year-old son is welcomed everywhere we go. His presence is expected and celebrated as opposed to just being tolerated, as we experienced when we travelled with him as a six-month-old.
Our three-week family holiday included UNESCO World Heritage Sites, Butrint National Park, the world-class hiking trail between Theth and Valbona, and the thermal springs and fascinating history of Permet in the Vjosë River Valley.
Hiking the Valbona Pass: Come rain or shine
Albania’s family-friendly atmosphere is evident as soon as we arrive in the Balkan country, immediately making our way north.
Instead of the sun, sea and sand that most tourists are here for, we embrace the scent of rain and heavy rumble of thunder that cuts through the moody clouds crowding the tiny hamlet of Theth.
A 16km hike over the famous Valbona Pass awaits us the next day. Said to be one of the world’s best hikes, we can’t wait to lace up our boots and hit the trail.
We dash from the taxi into the welcoming arms of a family-run guesthouse where local children inspect Finley curiously before taking him outside to meet a lively black and white puppy.
We sip Korca beer and watch our son play happily while we meet other hikers who have now arrived, wet and exhausted, from Valbona.
What’s it like to hike Albania’s Accursed Mountains?
The next morning we clamber up a hillside studded with Norway Spruce, the woodsy balsamic scent tingling in our nostrils.
Occasionally the light tinkering of a cowbell breaks thorugh our huffing and puffing as we toil up the steep slope, only catching our breath once the first pearly peaks of the Accursed Mountains emerge.
At a small hillside café, I give Finley a break from the backpack he’s been strapped into, arm him with a hiking pole and let him walk.
The trail is crowded with fellow hikers but everyone gives him a smile, moving aside as he makes his way up an incline, only occasionally toppling over into the mud that has formed after last night’s storm.
Tirana: UNESCO Sites and sumptuous hot springs
Back in Tirana we rent a car, cruising between destinations on newly paved roads, ending up at the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Berat.
The city of a thousand windows, seasoned liberally with Byzantine churches, offers a visual feast for our adult eyes, while the crumbling castle walls of the Citadel of Berat – dating back to the 13th century – are the perfect playground for Finley.
He totters up the cobbled roads, scrambles over stones and inspects an Ottoman Mosque while the sun sinks below this hallowed horizon.
In the city of Permet near the Greek border we soak in the sumptuous hot springs of the Vjosë Valley while Finley creates abstract art with the mud by the side of the river in the alabaster canyon that flows into the valley.
We scale the ‘Stone of the City’, a bulging landmark of the town, climbing 42 metres or 101 steps up a rickety staircase to the remains of a fortress dating back to the 4th century.
We learn about the local legend in which Premt, the ruler of the fortress, threw himself from the rock rather than being captured by an enemy invasion. We keep a close eye on our son, who is examining the ruins, to ensure the same thing doesn’t happen to him.
At the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Gjirokaster, we wander through the ghostly green glow of a sound tunnel that was once an entrance to a cold war bunker under the Gjirokaster Fortress.
The strategically important castle also serves as an amusement park as Finleyruns along the ramparts, shouts with delight at the historic armoury on display and plays hide and seek among the perfectly preserved arches that adorn the ancient 12th century structure overlooking the magnificent mountains ringing the Drino Valley.
Butrint National Park: Furry felines and views for miles
In Butrint National Park – first a prehistoric Greek colony, then a Roman city and then, following a brief occupation by the Venetians, abandoned to the salty marshes of area – Finley is enamoured by the many cats that live onsite, gently stroking the furry felines while my husband and I admire our first views of the Adriatic.
The Albanian Riviera is calling to us, but first, Finley must shimmy and climb over the richly layered archaeological ruins that now preserve the stories of the many ancient civilisations that once settled here.
While visiting the fabled beaches of the coastline, we watch our son timidly play next to the surging surf, dipping a toe, maybe two at a time, shyly contemplating the endless horizon that stretches before him.
By the end of our time in Albania, much like our initial uneasy approach to travelling here with our son, Finley is frolicking confidently in the sea. We can’t wait to come back.