Drive the Llogara pass at dawn and the whole Ionian opens beneath you: a coast of grey-green olive and impossible blue, still mercifully short of the cranes that flattened its neighbours. The Albanian Riviera knows what it has, and — for now — it is keeping it.
The villages are the point. You eat what was caught that morning; the oil on the table was pressed in the hills behind you. It pairs naturally with the new energy in Tirana's kitchens, an hour and a world away.
“We are not trying to become the next Amalfi. We are trying to stay the first Himara.”
A guesthouse owner in Himara
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