Very often, not much happens

I don’t know where I get this energy from. The energy to travel around on the slower and less convenient ways, when easier and faster ways exist. Nobody’s forcing me to travel this way. I’m choosing to travel this way and I’m not sure why I do.

At some point after you reach a certain age (and income level, let’s be honest), you just pay for confort and convenience. Direct flights, airport transfers, private tours, nicer hotels… I saw it happening to me, as well as to people around me, and it all absolutely makes sense. You have more money than time, and can afford a few “nice-to-haves” here and there, especially when it comes to the very precious time you enjoy off work.

Right now I’m in a strange position where I have more time than money. I never thought I’d be in a position to say something like that.

Before starting this journey, some research lead me to discover the Transdinarica, a cycling route of over 5,000km connecting eight countries in the west Balkans.

I was able to have a peek at what such an adventure would be like through the window of the bus when travelling between North Macedonia and Albania, and it looks absolutely incredible. I did not see a single cyclist on the way, but it’s probably because it’s still very new: it received an official certification only earlier this summer.

Since coming back from my trip to Copenhagen earlier this year, I’ve been thinking a lot about going on longer bike trips. Like, much longer than anything I’ve done before. I’ve been reading and watching content about people who go on such journeys, cycling for weeks or even months, unsupported, with nothing but whatever they are able to carry on their bike. For some reason, what they’re doing feels literally impossible, but at the same time, I think I now understand why they’re doing it.

The following exchange took place at Albania’s exit border control, right before I boarded on a ferry headed towards Italy.

• Agent: Passport, please.
• Me: *hands passport over*
• Name, date and place of birth.
• *states full name, date and place of birth*
• Purpose of your travel?
• Tourism, sir.
• First time in Albania?
• Yes, sir (but the question threw me off a little, as this is something I expect to hear when entering a country, not exiting it)
• Are you travelling alone? Do you have friends or relatives here in Albania?
• Yes, I’m travelling alone. I don’t know anybody here.
• Don’t you think it’s dangerous to come here alone?
• Well… I don’t know sir. I don’t think so? (???)
• *flips over the pages of my passport, stops at the pages covered with stamps from the past ten years, shows them to me* And you did all of these travels alone, too?
• Yes sir, not all, but most of them. I’m… I’m used to travelling alone.
• … *still looking suspiciously at the passport, silent for quite some time*
• … *me, not really sure where to look or what he’s about to ask, also silent*
• Ok we’re good. Just be very careful and stay safe. *hands passport back*
• Thanks…? (???)

The following day, the agent on the italian side of the Adriatic sea was literally browsing Facebook marketplace as he checked my passport. Visibly looking for a small second-hand car, from what I could see on his screen.

Coffee broadly means “the same exact type of coffee” around here. Sit at any coffee or restaurant, and if you ask for a coffee, you’ll get an espresso, or maybe something close to a turkish coffee. With the exception of this place in Belgrade which I can recommend if you enjoy specialty coffee spots, I’ve found that a coffee here means a very dark, very strong and very short shot. Way more concentrated than what you’d get by default in northern or western Europe. But lately, the weather has been calling for iced coffee more than anything else.

Interestingly, I learned that just asking for an iced coffee will give you very different things, depending on where you are. Between the four countries I’ve visited so far, I’ve basically received every single variation I can think of, when asking for an “iced coffee”, and when the staff did not ask for clarification:

• an iced americano (yes!)
• a filter coffee diluted with water and ice cubes (ok)
• an espresso with a glass of iced water on the side (technically not sure about this one)
• an iced latte (…)
• a large iced latte with sugar and cream (basically a milkshake, and I swear it wasn’t even in a Starbucks)

One thing you need to know (or learn) about me is that I’ll never send a dish or a drink back to have it remade. I don’t think I ever did that. So I’ll drink this milkshake even if I wanted an iced americano. No questions asked.

Do people visit museums they don’t care -that much- about?

Museums have always been part of my travels, and will probably continue to be so. I found that going to and spend time in a museum with a theme you’re not particularly attached to is not that obvious to many people. I personally have a favorite “type of museum” and some things I prefer to see over others, but I once in a while, I’ll just go to a museum out of my comfort zone, knowing that I will not see something I’m already familiar with, or deeply interested in. I just go and hope to learn a thing or two.

I feel this way about Italy. I actually don’t know much about Italy. I’m not particularly attached or interested in it. I’ve only visited Rome in the past, only for a few days, and it was so long ago that right now feels like a first time. I feel like I should know more about this country, given how close it is, and how easy it is to travel here. Italy is not obvious to me, as it is to many people I asked for advice. Personally I’m just here out of curiosity. Let’s see what I can learn in the next few days.