Tirana, Bikes, and Familiar Ground
Our first task was to walk to the bike-hire shop. From the hotel, it was a short walk down Rruga Qemal Stafa, where I pointed out the huge painted murals covering many of the buildings.
The most striking was a painted bookcase and fireplace marking a junction opposite a building site I’ve long referred to as “Lefter’s Hole” — for years just a hole in the ground, now finally rising skywards.
This sits on the edge of Skënderbej Square, the symbolic heart of Tirana and a feature in almost every programme about Albania. The square is bordered by the Bank of Albania, the National History Museum with its iconic mosaic of a rifle-toting woman leading militants, and the towering Tirana International Hotel. Nearby stands a controversial new building which, when viewed through a camera lens, unmistakably resembles the head and shoulders of a man. Some locals believe it’s a bust of Prime Minister Edi Rama; to me, it’s clearly Skanderbeg.
That evening, we walked to a restaurant on Rruga Kavaja that I’d first visited on the very day it opened. The food was excellent and the place was packed with model cars, signage, toys, and ephemera. It’s hugely popular, usually with a queue outside, but we walked straight in. Lamb and beer for both of us.
After dinner, I persuaded Dave to try parfait, a traditional treat I always have at the London Inn on Bulevardi Zogu. The place holds decades of memories for me, including visits with the boys when they were babies.
Dave was exhausted, so we jumped in a taxi — electric, no less. The driver had never heard of the London Inn, the parfait, or the trumpets outside. Five minutes later, we found it all — and even convinced the driver to try one.
If you ever want to find it: stand with Skanderbeg’s statue behind you, walk across the square into Bulevardi Zogu, look for the trumpet sculpture on the right. The London Inn is opposite.
We walked back to the hotel and collapsed into bed.
Day Two – Into the Mountains
We’d collected the bikes the night before and fitted the sat-nav and GoPro wiring at the hotel.
Note to self: ensure both sat-navs use the same maps and settings.
Our first stop was Meri’s garage to inflate my tyres and clear a dashboard warning light. It was like a Formula One pit stop — tyre inflated, rear checked, chain oiled, and we were gone.
Leaving Tirana, we climbed quickly into the surrounding mountains on smooth, newly laid roads. Higher and higher we went, through a tunnel and into worsening weather. I tried to find an alternative route north-east of the Burrel road, but the rain and cold intensified. After a coffee stop and a quick map check, we reverted to the familiar June route.
Dave had two minor slips on a greasy downhill section — the only truly poor road we encountered. The ride to Burrel became a test of endurance, from mist to torrential rain. A gloomy but warm café provided sanctuary. I was leaking from multiple places and added layers, while the locals stoically drank thick, dark Albanian coffee.
Once back on the bikes, things improved rapidly. The roads dried, the scenery opened up, and we headed toward Lezhë, home to Skanderbeg’s tomb — a site of huge national pride.
Eventually, we reached Tringa Guesthouse, run by the wonderful Zef and Adriana. I’d stayed there in June and remembered their warmth. Zef recognised me instantly as I removed my helmet. We were ushered upstairs, and I gratefully took a hot shower, laying out sodden clothes to dry.
An important document for our Journey
How to connect Dave's Cardio unit to my Senna unit
Zef soon appeared with a bottle of raki. I remembered enough to demonstrate how to drink it in one gulp. I also remember a second glass. The next hour? A complete blur — including a 15-minute walk to dinner that I apparently navigated flawlessly
By the morning, the wind had abated from the gale the previous night, and it was a lovely autumnal day, and we set off on the back roads North
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