Day 344, Lake Ohrid, Macedonia to Shkoder, Albania
Lake Ohrid, a UNESCO heritage site, is one of only eight ancient lakes in the world. At over a million years old, it’s not only one of Europe’s oldest, it’s also the deepest. But more than any statistic, it feels a bit otherworldly. You don’t need to be here for long to understand why this lake is famous. 
The way the stormy clouds brood over the lake with the rays of sun poking through to spotlight the water, all with enormous depth of field. Not words nor photos can duplicate this natural masterpiece.
This morning we heard sheep bells and bahhhing from our balcony. A shepherd coaxed them along on the hill below. So peaceful, the lake, so silently majestic.
Perhaps not as majestic, but critical to daily happiness, I can’t tell you how happy we are to have our own coffee maker with us. No matter where we wake up we have coffee made our way. Instant morning joy. Combine a simple kitchen appliance and a famous lake and it just doesn’t get any better.
We left Lake Ohrid and drove toward Albania. Driving through Macedonia there were many mosques, and also many incomplete and abandoned buildings. There were often large structures, six to seven stories that were just shells, no walls, just the creepy ghost buildings by the dozens. The girls thought this would be a perfect setting to film post apocalyptic movies. Later we researched why there are so many deserted buildings. Most of the countries area have tumultuous histories, some not so long ago.
As we have driven up the Adriatic, all of the border crossings have been easy. Entering into Albania was no different. They wanted to see our car registration and passports. If this was a rental and not a car we technically own, this trip would not have worked as well.
We drove through the capital of Albania, Tirana, a large city. Lots of bicycles and pedestrians. We hit a bit of a traffic jam which costs us at least an hour, maybe more.
Paul booked us into an adorably 400 year old property, the Hotel Tradita, sandwiched between two modern buildings. We drove by it initially, thinking we were in a neighborhood much too modern. But there is was, in all its stone and wooden ancient glory. The minute we pulled into the parking lot, there was a young man waiting to help with our bags, and two more quickly appeared.
We walked through a small museum type walkway and were welcomed with five shots of hard liquor, three of which we gratefully declined (if that’s even a thing when it comes to welcome shots). Normally we try not to turn down the hospitality of the people we visit, but when it comes to hard liquor shots, some us, like the 14 year old, no can do.
After that we walked through a courtyard, and it was like stepping back in time. There was a small wooden bar and tables. 
Washing and ironing table cloths on the porch.
Our room was absolutely adorable. It had a stairway and a loft with three beds on the second floor.
Since the drive took a bit longer that expected, given the slowdown, we were all hungry. We went to supper at six, which by European standards, is a late lunch. The only other people eating at that hour was a busload of Chinese tourists, two of whom asked if they could take pictures of our family like we were an attraction of our very own. We made sure they knew we weren’t from Albania, but rather Canadians, which seemed to make them even happier. So they sat down at the table with us as if we were in the middle of our friendly meal together, pulled out the selfie sticks with lightening precision, and snapped away.
I was looking at the hearth when the Chinese tourist on the left asked to have her photo taken with our family.
After our photo shoot, we settled down for an authentic Albania meal. Our table was by the hearth where they cooked the bread, meat, and veggies. The stone building with it’s arches and wooden tables and benches, other-ancient-worldly. Our waiter, who was in his second year of nursing school, was the best host. He explained all their food was from the mountain. He helped us order, in the proper order and quantities. We appreciated his attention and help.
First came little plates of appetizers, hot sheep cheese, stuffed potatoes, flat bread cooked over the fire, feta cheese. That was round one.
Then we ordered meat, Cali got a fish, which unfortunately showed up with a face on it. Paul and I ordered a mixed mountain meat plate. Kier ordered wild mountain boar sausage. 
Madi had spaghetti which came out on a huge platter. So much food, in such a magical setting. The combination of the ancient setting with the garden grown veggies and herbs, the meat that comes from some animals that was running wild in the mountains or the cows, sheep, and goats out back who gave milk for the cheese and yogurt, or watching your food being cooked on the fire, having all the girls with us, collectively contributed to this being one of the most memorable meals in my life. I didn’t want it to ever end. And with the amount of food the waiter kept bringing out, at times we thought it never would. Magical mountain food in Albania. I will never forget it.