SWM Superdual T and X, Albania-Macedonia: travel diary

We have started a truly special column. Our collaborator Stefano Pelati decided to embark on a truly special journey, through Albania and Macedonia in the company of his girlfriend “Pinkie” and not with any means, indeed not even with just one means, but two: one SWM Superdual and a SWM Superdual T, i.e. the 650 "almost" twins respectively available in a more offroad style (the X version) and a more road version (the T version). All that remains is to say: “Let's go!".

Albania-Macedonia 2018 episode 5: last days in the Balkans

Ok, I admit it, in the last few days I've been messing around a bit and haven't produced any reports. I apologize but they have been difficult days (some) and full of spectacular things (others), so put yourself in my shoes. We stayed in Ohrid “welcome to the tourist area”. I won't bother describing the country, you can find everything and more about Ohrid on the internet. Just know that in the midst of the tourist hubbub, the restaurants that try to cheat you on change, the kids who ask you 200Lek to take a photo with the python (I swear) and the one who asks you 50 to take a photo of the child, on a pony, with a cowboy hat, hide pearls of absolute beauty. We also made a trip to Sveti Naum and the Bay of Bones, if the second is an interesting reconstruction of a Neolithic village on stilts, the first resembles the great Italian places of worship.

A magnificent (Orthodox) church with, on the side, a no laughing matter tourist stand. Stalls, restaurants, boat trips in the lake and very nasty aggressive peacocks (this is the proof). So we leave Ohrid and head towards Albania again. An hour to leave the suburbs because my GPS maps are absolutely unreliable (I remember that perhaps it would have been better to install Macedonia), and we take the road that runs along the lake. I'm traveling at around 70 per hour, calm, relaxed, enjoying the view when, from the bushes, an Audi Q5 comes out in front of me, it's a few meters away, within a fraction of a second I think of everything. In the meantime, the reptilian part of the brain works on its own business, if it had left it to me, we would have killed ourselves, I hold on to the brakes, tighten the tank. The ABS kicks in both front and rear, I let go of the front brake, I dive to the right and manage to pass behind him leaving perhaps a scant span between my bag and his bumper. I stop, my hands, legs, everything are shaking. And I realize that the guy didn't come out of the bushes, but that the road curved to the right and I went straight ahead taking a secondary road. Memento, here NEVER let your guard down when driving, the signs are there or not, random. Ok, I survived, let's set off again towards Albania. Today's objective is to visit the tombs of Selce and Poshtme (a couple of umlauts are missing, I know), which are somewhere north-east of Pogradec, but we don't know exactly where. In reality the road that gets there is not marked either on my GPS or on the topographic map of Albania. The conditions for going to plague us are therefore excellent.

Albania is a work in progress, major roads are under construction everywhere; this has advantages and disadvantages: one advantage is that roads that would otherwise have been unworkable are becoming fast and smooth, the disadvantage is that on the same roads you travel for kilometers on roadbeds under construction, in the midst of infernal clouds of dust, with trucks quarry that go back and forth at breakneck speed. One way or another, however, we ALSO find the tombs, which turn out to be another of the little hidden surprises of this country. Pinkie insults me heavily, because these types of roads are too much for her, but the graves are worth it.
Between searching for the tombs, taking a walk, taking a couple of photos, stopping in Elbasan for a beer, etc., etc., I made a huge mistake. The kilometers that separate us from Berat seem few, but I overestimate the Albanian roads and we find ourselves traveling the last 50km in the dark. If you remember, in one of the previous episodes I said that for me not traveling at night is a principle that I must never fail to follow. Well, this time we forced ourselves, and it's a TERRIFYING experience. The choice ranges from cattle roaming freely on the road, to huge potholes that are only seen at the last moment, to cars without headlights, to people walking calmly between one town and another in the dark. The average speed is under 30km/h and when we arrive in Berat we are destroyed by stress.
Obviously the road that leads to our hotel is closed for works, a native enthusiastically says that "you can pass with those motocross bikes". I try and the situation I find myself in front of is that of a construction site where they are redoing the stone paving, so there are open manholes, excavations to lay cables, and steps 35cm high. In the dark. Fuck native. Fortunately, the kindness of the Albanians gets us out of trouble once again. A gentleman with a very battered Chinese scooter stands in front of us and like a sort of farting Moses guides us towards the promised land by an alternative road, not without sparing us a couple of nice steps on a construction site enduro. Berat is simply great, the title of World Heritage Site is absolutely deserved. We spend a whole day getting lost in the alleys, castle, mosques and Byzantine churches but it is absolutely too little time. We'll do it again on our next trip.

Today, however, was absolutely relaxing, Berat - Tirana along the SH3 "the Duce's road", built, like most of Albania's infrastructures, during the Italian occupation, with some offroad detours just to go and look around . Here Benito is still seen by most people as a benefactor, given that he built practically everything there (And don't get mad, it's not a political statement. It's the reality of the facts and what he claims most of the Albanians. Then, when, during the war with Greece, they kicked his ass like a hut and he withdrew, practically no major works were built in Albania anymore)

Albania-Macedonia 2018 episode 4: here we are in Prilep-Ohrid

I take Pinkie on holiday because she has common sense. I mean, also because she is my partner, but if she wasn't, I would still take her with me, because she has common sense. So instead of doing my usual one-shot of 400-odd kilometers of Macedonian roads, wandering around at random, getting lost, confused and arriving distraught (which, by the way, I love), he "convinced" me to do two 200-km stages, which they are few, but by doing a few you see a lot of things. So, yesterday, Skopje-Prilep and today Prilep-Ohrid and let's go in order. From Skopje to Prilep there is a very convenient highway, obviously we didn't follow it and we went up the mountains trusting the GPS, on which I did NOT install the map of Macedonia. Don't worry, I have the map, one of the best maps of Macedonia, and the map says that the road is asphalt... no ok, let's draw a veil over it.

Let's say it was a nice opportunity to be a bit of an ass off and see how the superdual behaves on the terrain for which it was created. And it behaves well. We arrive in Prilep at seven in the evening, the precept of NEVER traveling in the dark here is sacred to me and so we find a room, we settle in, we clean up and Pinkie takes me to dinner in a VEGETARIAN restaurant. After forcing me to wash my motorcycle clothing, she also makes me eat VEGETARIAN. Ok, I can forgive her this because, I admit, she was tasty and then these days I'm killing myself with meat. On the other hand, they don't miss the laundry. And in fact Pinkie gets sick. The Cyrillic pharmacist offers me some threatening red army-style pills with “парацетамол” written on them, at the astonishing price of 0,20 euro cents for twelve pills. She claims they are the right thing and, in fact, it seems that Pinkie comes back to life. We then leave for Ohrid, make a detour in the exact opposite direction to see the ruins of Marko's towers, a monastery, enjoy one of the most beautiful roads traveled since the beginning of the trip and take some photos.

My initial idea was to get to Lake Prespa and then climb over the mountains. And here too, it's hard for me to admit it, but Pinkie's common sense has the upper hand, the mountains in question are immersed in a mass of apocalypse-black clouds and, even at the bottom of the valley, a cold wind and drizzle blows, so we decide to. follow the normal path and Pinkie finds the house of her dreams. She gives you conjunctivitis just getting close. However, thanks to the famous common sense, we arrive in Ohrid and settle down in a delightful, unseemly dump, allowing ourselves to be fooled by the photos on Booking. Ohrid is… how do I describe Ohrid? According to the guides it is a tourist location, a world heritage site, a splendid location, blah blah blah, I go out and I feel like I am in Milano Marittima, which means that in 15 minutes I risk having a nervous breakdown. Casinos, tourists, Italian restaurants that make macaroni and spagetti bolognaise, souvenir shops, get me out of here! I find a place to eat a kebab (which here indicates the skewers), I spend, albeit a little, about double what I would have spent in Prilep and, when it's time to pay, a twenty-year-old waiter with a stupid mustache, he gives me twenty dinars in change instead of five hundred and twenty... For a moment of cold, he tells me "dobra večer" (good evening), then he has a moment of discomfort. He must have noticed the look of "I'll reopen the Sveti Spas labor camp and send you there to smash stones headfirst", together with the phrase "I gave you thousand dinars"... He gives me a SMILE and gives me the remaining 500 without say a word. Welcome to the tourist area!

Albania-Macedonia 2018 episode 3: first contact with Macedonia, from donkeys to Gardaland

Ok, I haven't written in two days, don't complain. Bad temporary weather. On Wednesday we left from Scutari with the firm intention of arriving in Debar, the first town in Macedonia and, no, we didn't succeed. Pinkie is, in fact, a new driver and since I have a heart of gold I thought there was no point in having her collide with 80 km of Albanian dirt roads on her second day of holiday, so I fell back on plan B, a stage a little longer but entirely asphalted. I had never done it. I know, I should have known, I've already been to Albania, but I let myself be seduced by the yellow line on the map, and so we ended up with dozens and dozens of kilometers of the worst Albanian asphalt, which is MUCH worse than dirt.

Where it is not devastated by potholes, it is being renovated and therefore it is a work in progress. Both where it is devastated and where it is being renovated, the Albanians drive as if they were at the last stage of the world rally championship, whether they have a Yugo from the 70s, whether they have a van or a quarry truck. In the midst of all this, it is very easy to come out of a bend and find a distinguished elderly gentleman on his horse, with a donkey behind him and, even further back, a free colt. So I'll let you imagine how it drives relaxed.

This brilliant idea of ​​"let's make asphalt" meant that it took us a day to cover around 120km, passing through towns where we were asked "but what did you come to do in Albania?". (And in which we have always and in any case been welcomed with absolute kindness). Since moving in the dark in these parts is equivalent to semi-suicide, around seven we decided to stop in Peshkopi. Where? Look for it on google maps, I'll just tell you that in the Lonely guide to the Balkans it isn't even included in the analytical index.

Why Peshkopi? Because among my Facebook friends I have Gimi, the owner of the Piazza hotel, who turns out to be a character as histrionic as he is hospitable and we decide to spend the night in his hotel. The following morning, after a quick visit to the Peshkopie museum, we set off towards Debar without knowing what awaits us. I've already described the route from Scutari to Peshkopie, so I won't dwell on it further. Let's just say it was a good test for the suspension and brakes. We enter Macedonia and realize that, perhaps, not stopping in Debar was a stroke of luck. The Piazza is a nice hotel, Peshkopie all in all allows you to go for a walk in the evening, Debar on the other hand welcomes us with the spectacle of a burning landfill so continuing at full speed on the motorway to Skopje is fine... So we arrive at Gardaland or almost.

The outskirts of Skopje are like those of all the other large cities in the Balkans, communist-style barracks, enormous avenues on which it is easy to imagine parades of tanks, then you arrive in the center and here appears a collection of classic-style buildings, which they almost make the Albanian villas of the first day seem sober. Apparently Macedonians have a real passion for monumental statues and classical architecture, they place them EVERYWHERE, combining them with colored lights worthy of the worst dance hall of the 80s... unz unz unz... disco disco!

However, just cross the famous (and splendid) stone bridge to enter the bazaar and go back a few centuries. The further you move away from the square, the more you begin to see the "real" Skopje, more Arab than European.

Color note. Even in Skopje, as already seen in Scutari, there is an incredible quantity of stray dogs and cats around, all "labelled" and registered. Here the spirit of Pinkie comes out first: first, she tries to convince me to go buy some chicken legs for her (note, they all look quite healthy and plump) and, shortly after, she decides that they would look good on a sofa. and floats the idea of ​​buying her one… I'd better get her out of here quickly.

Albania-Macedonia 2018 episode 2: direction Scutari, passing through Kruje

Report with the usual day of delay of our first day in Albania, first of these holidays for me, first ever for Pinkie. For those who haven't figured it out yet, Pinkie is Maria, my partner, her nickname comes from her Beta Alp with the pink graphics and helmet of the same color. She looks like a cute Barbie, but in reality she is a pitbull, but don't tell her or she'll get it in her head. I have already been to Albania, I know it a little (just a little), I know several Albanians, both residents in Italy for years and residents here, nevertheless there are some things that still manage to amaze me: the mess they manage to create everywhere there are more than three cars in a space even larger than one hectare, the terrifying taste for the horror in building, the hospitality that always manages to surprise me.

Constructions of dubious taste above the bazaars

I was convinced that I was now prepared for the above, but no. We get off the ferry and point the motorbikes towards the highway. At the first roundabout it's already chaos, the signs indicate that we must give way, the other drivers indicate that we move at "every man for himself and God against all, whoever goes first has priority. Behind Pinkie's pink glasses you can see a look full of terror, although she is of Sicilian origins, she is not used to all this. After a few kilometers the second point also receives confirmation, a series of buildings in mock neoclassical style, complete with gables and columns, make a beautiful display. One would expect them to host nightclubs, hotels, casinos like Las Vegas, but no: you can find plumber's shops, service stations, hotels or simple homes of people who don't like to be noticed.

Kastrioti Mausoleum

We enter the outskirts of Tirana and we are hit by brutal heat. We stop for a drink in a bar, I ask the waiter, who doesn't speak English, let alone Italian, for some information. A neighbor at the table intervenes "I speak Italian", we say a few words then the neighbor at the table gets up to leave, looks at me and says "I offered these". Huh? As? What? Why? I'm trying to outline a protest, in short, something that makes it clear that there was no need. He shakes my hand and greets me with "welcome to Albania, have a nice holiday". Well, this is the third thing that always leaves me stunned. And it's not as rare as you might think.

The first stop of the day is Kruje, whose fortress we want to visit, but along the way we are welcomed by a surprise not indicated in the tourist guides: Sari Saltikut Tekke, "the pocket mosque". At first I think that the little house with an old man acting as guardian is a kind of entrance or ticket office, but it only takes a moment to understand that we have ended up in one of the most sacred places for the Bektashi Muslims of Albania, where, according to tradition the imprint of Sari Saltikut's foot in a rock is venerated. The old man on guard explains to us a bit with gestures, a bit in Italian and a few words of Anglo-Albanian, how the Bektashi do not believe that "their" God exists, but that the God of the Bektashi, that of the Christians, and that of other religions is always the same and that everyone venerates it as they deem right. I don't know if it's true, I don't know if I understood correctly, but if so, the boys were quite advanced, given that we're talking about a sect born in the 13th century...

Sari Saltikut Tekke

We reach Kruje, which is worth a visit for the bazaar (more for the architecture than for the items on sale there) and for the ruins of the castle, which also host the mausoleum of Skenderbeu (one of the Albanian national heroes), where Lentini gets dizzy seeing the bust of the local heroine and the ethnographic museum which is the set for a remake of the well-known film "Ghost" (and which, apart from our nonsense, is worth a visit to Kruje alone) Let's resume the motorbike, we get back on the road and stoically face the remaining kilometers to Scutari, which are not many but are ALL of traffic and casinos. Within a day, Albania has already explained to us how things are going.

Albania-Macedonia 2018 episode 1: the departure

Monday morning begins with the sun, just enough for a motorbike trip and our motorbikes on which we will travel the 450 km of motorway that will take us from Brescia to Ancona, a good test for us and for our single-cylinder machines. Precisely because of the typical vibrations of the "mono", every hour we will take a short break to make the journey less stressful. My traveling companion, “Pinkie”, is used to getting her fillings knocked out on a Beta Alp and, for her, the SWM Superdual is an armchair. That is to say, after two hours, she is still arrogantly overtaking truck after truck while I, behind her, am starting to think about coming alongside her and kicking her to stop. Brescia-Ancona, on a Monday, at the end of August, is a kind of Dante's circle of bad motorcyclists, between trucks, motorists (often distracted, so to speak) going to or returning from holidays and a hot beast. My faith in humanity suffers a further blow when, in a motorway service station, I realize that there are at least 15 cars queuing up to get petrol at the pumps "served" at 1,850 euros and the self-service pumps, twenty cents less per litre, are deserted . I also realize that the Superduals, on the motorway, have an average consumption of 28 km/l: Not bad!

Between a mucilage-flavoured aloe drink, a briochina and Pinkie who asks me in dismay where her helmet is (she's wearing it...) we arrive in Ancona, I had planned six hours including stops and we enter the port after six hours and eight minutes of travel. Check-in and off to find the boarding desk. Here we are, maybe we really are on holidays... Stay tuned!