Article by Nikos Kakagias
Cover photo by Dimosthenis Seitaridis
Edited by Harrys Pourouzidis
- Himara -
The mountain road followed the contours of the land, running along the whole spine of the range through dense forest, which took on an otherworldly look when thick fog appeared out of nowhere.
Out of nowhere came the drizzle as well, quickly turning into heavy rain and putting the driver’s reflexes on high alert. Once again, he proved his nerves and driving skills of steel as part of his nature.
The clouds vanished as if by magic the moment we began descending the western slopes of the mountain range, and the hill of old Himara appeared in the distance. So we stopped too, to catch our breath and photograph a historic place that still keeps its Greek element alive.
The modern town, built farther south along the Albanian Riviera, is developing rapidly — a fact that has sparked a ruthless war of interests over the exploitation of the coastline, as every modern society, of course, seems to demand.
For me it was like I was visiting the rather indifferent town Paralia of Katerini — forgive me, Himara. A fairly average meal was enough to give us the push towards our final destination.
It was already quite dark when we arrived, exhausted. And yet, three quarters of the group still found the courage for some night photography along the seafront of Sarandë.
- Sarandë -
Morning revealed the face of a typical coastal town, with the same building philosophy advertising its Mediterranean temperament.
We left it quickly for its castle, which offered an excellent view towards the harbour and southwards, as far as the point where the corner of Corfu seems to touch the Albanian coast.
The descent south brought us close to the entrance to the Greek border, with one final stop at Butrint.
- Butrint -
The ancient Greek city, a colony of the Corinthians, passed through many hands before being abandoned by its inhabitants because of the gradual subsidence of its ground.
The city is enclosed by walls and surrounded by a lagoon, which has been undermining its foundations through the centuries.
After paying the rather sharp entrance fee of ten euros, we entered the well-kept fortified settlement and walked its full perimeter, photographing its partially submerged theatre and its ancient fragments — witnesses to a life both past and, somehow, still alive.
- Epilogue -
The border was only a step away, as artificial in its meaning as it was in distance. It marked no real change and stirred no strong emotion, since for three days the landscapes, the people, and their lives had all felt equally familiar.
