They exited through the giant oak doors of the refectory on a Wednesday night. Its long wooden tables slowly emptied as dinner closed and the clamor was dying down. At a corner table, the professors and families lingered in the warm atmosphere.

“Man, that roast was so good,”

“I know bro, always my favorite” Replied AP

“Hey Ian, are you coming with us to the social club?”

“I really can’t go tonight guys, Dr. Bujak said I needed to change my paper”

The trio reached the stairs and began the long walk up.

“Dude don’t be a nerd c’mon let’s go down”

“Nope no way I’m going, have a good time though. I’m pumped for tomorrow” Ian replied

AP said “It’s going to be insane, I can’t wait to be back”

“The sun is going to feel so nice. Three nights away is just what I need.”

We all agreed that the weekend was going to be the best yet, aside from our respective spring break trips. The plans for Albania had been in the works for 2 months and we had put together the perfect trip. Leaving at 6 pm from Stansted we’d then arrive in Tirana where I’d pick up the manual Ford Fiesta. Our hotel that night would be a high-rise apartment and then we’d be staying at a resort on the Mediterranean. 

AP and I made our way down the stairs and out of the manor when he turned to me and told me that he needed his jacket. I didn’t think it was that cold but turned to go back up with him.

“Nah bro just head that way”

“I don’t want to walk all the way there alone, I’ll just wait”

“NO, just go”

“Okay man, whatever you say”

Briskly walking, I managed to catch up to some other guys headed to the Social Club. The rest of the walk was a bit awkward as I didn’t know the guys very well.

We let the cold puffs of air speak for us and managed to make it down without injury. Picking up a pint at the bar, I set up the Nintendo Switch for Mario Kart and socialized with the rest of the class.

After a while, I was confused as to where AP was until he sent a text in our group chat. The text was cryptic, but it let us know that he was taking the early morning flight to Albania and would see us the next evening. MAN, I was livid, he didn’t need to get his jacket, He needed to leave for London! I struggled with changing plans and others doing things I didn’t expect. Fighting down my anger, I tried to enjoy the evening and realized that it didn’t change my plans.

The remaining two of us floated through the school day with the anticipation of beautiful Mediterranean beaches. Skipping our Stats class, we hopped on a train and were off for Stansted Airport. Stansted is the airport that all the cheap flights went out of and was less than convenient to reach. We made it anyway and sat around waiting. Ian brought up the Manga he had been reading: “Berserk”, I had seen the anime, so I also had some opinions. His takeaway was that you should never invest your life in someone else dream. My rebuttal was that sometimes others have a common goal, but only they can reach it, and you must support them. This slowly spiraled out of control into a debate on the meaning of life and the existence of God. We fell into silence until Ian brought up that there was a Wetherspoons in the airport. 

Friends again, I enjoyed a Camden Hell (My favorite London beer) and Ian had a cider. Unfortunately, we turned away and his half-full cider was taken away by one of the waiters. He knew it was an honest mistake and went back to the bar to receive a fresh one as compensation, but they unfortunately denied his request. 

Our flight had finally received a gate, and we trekked across the airport to get there. I was stressing about my bag size, but thankfully it fit in the space designated. The line for boarding stretched forever and since we had assigned seats, we chose to stay sitting. We observed our fellow fliers and noticed a couple of Stag dues which was the English term for a bachelor party. On the plane, I tried to sleep but struggled with a headache. Ian snacked the whole flight through on gummy worms.

Landing at Tirana International we walked down the rickety metal stairs onto the tarmac. The warm air hit us instantly and we shed our outer layers. Now in loose and airy clothing, we breezed through customs. Outside of the airport, we found our car rental booth and gave the necessary information. With some difficulty, we were able to secure the car even though I wasn’t the legal age of 25 to rent. I made sure to purchase the most comprehensive insurance at 20 US dollars a day as Noel (our Albanian brother) had described driving there as hell.

For us to get the car we had to walk to the street where we were then whisked away by a beat-up Mercedes to the car lot. After a quick briefing from the attendant and the typical pictures of the car’s condition, Ian and I squeezed in. I felt out the clutch and adjusted the mirrors. It was night so I fumbled with the lights till they flipped on. AP was not being super helpful with the location of our hotel, but impatient as always, I jetted off. Ian begged me to wait for directions, but I couldn’t help myself. We finally got a response from AP and had to turn around as I had driven us 5 minutes in the wrong direction. I then took a bit of chastisement from Ian for my impatience. I kept the car at the speed limit as I was nervous about getting pulled over. The word was that Albanian cops could be a bit corrupt, and I had no desire to test that theory. 

The drive into the city of Tirana was beautiful but my eyes stayed firmly fixed on the road. Multiple times we missed the right turn or road and had to take a detour. I gave Ian some crap about his directions, but truthfully it was just hard to navigate. Other cars were flying by us and taking sharp cuts into our lane. I was sweating by the time we pulled up to the hotel.

AP at 6’4 was easy to see walking over to our idling car. 

While he hopped in the back, I asked where the parking was.

“I don’t think our hotel has parking”

“I’m pretty sure it does, it had it on Hotels.com”

“The hotel is kinda weird, it’s more like an apartment building”

“Well did you ask her about the parking when you checked in?”

“…. No. She isn’t responding to my texts either.”

Accepting my defeat on the hotel parking, we drove further up the street to an underground parking garage. The slope downward was absurd, at something like 70 degrees! I eased us gingerly down and then we tried to communicate with an attendant who didn’t speak English. After flashing some Albanian currency, he pointed us to a parking spot. We removed the bags from the car and to our surprise found a sack lunch that the car rental attendant must have accidentally left. I felt bad for him.

Back at the hotel and up 10 floors, we checked out our accommodations. There was a beautiful view from the balcony overlooking the main square of Tirana. Inside we had a spacious bathroom tiled with faux marble. We headed back out to explore the city after changing into fresh clothes. Our first stop was the main square which was surrounded by Government Buildings. To our right was the Albanian National Museum which was barely the size of the Eiteljorg Museum in Indianapolis. It did have some awesome stone carvings on the front that depicted historical figures. On our left was the Casino that had a veranda dining under candlelight. Unfortunately, by the time we got there, the kitchen was closed. To the front was the American Embassy clad in ornate iron gates. Smack dab in the center was a giant statue of the Savior of Albania who defeated the Turks. He was riding a reared horse with a cutlass raised high above his head. It inspired quite a patriotic vision.

Heading to the right, we passed a tank left over from the Cold War as a monument. Albania at one point was an atheistic and communist dictatorship that feared invasion from the West. The ruler was extremely brutal and paranoid. For this reason, Albania has the most bunkers out of any country in the world. 

On a lighter note, as we passed a small kitchen I spotted a picture of my favorite thing in the world: Chicken Quesadilla! We stopped so fast that it probably burned up the soles of our shoes. We grabbed a table outside after ordering our food and picking up some Fanta Exotica’s. On the street, everyone was smoking and our server made sure to provide a fresh ashtray. For all our debauchery, smoking never really caught on for us three. I just hated the taste and feeling in my lungs.

We had to shoo away this stray dog which was just heartbreaking. What a terrible thing to not love a dog. That was a distinct disadvantage of Harlaxton: No Dogs. Of course, you’d see them when you were out and about. Those well-groomed English breeds were dignified in their stride.

Quesadilla was now in front of me, I was hugely impressed. It was generously laden with grilled chicken and stuffed with mixed cheese. It hit just the right spot and by the time I was finished, there was a grin from ear to ear. I now like to tell people that the best quesadilla in Europe is found in Albania.

 
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