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In some ways, the articulated lorries made us feel a little better. Clearly, the narrow, winding mountain road could take large traffic. In other ways, however, it tested our nerve. Albanian drivers have no qualms about nipping around lorries, or even other cars already overtaking them, on blind bends, regardless of what might be coming. We had wanted to see more of the beautiful Ottoman city of Gjirokastra , and try out the restaurants.
The forecast promised a week of thunderstorms. Soggy sightseeing is not the most fun you can have. Plus, we had to consider the pups. A drive south to more clement climes seemed a productive way to deploy a torrentially thunderous day.
Despite hitting the tarmac from a height, he said he was okay. Bruised in both body and pride. It pressed home how important it is for me to learn to drive our Beast. Even a slight injury would have meant we were stuck. The asphalt serpent of a road had wider effects on our confidence. As we descended forested hairpins on the far side of the summit, past a famous spring known as the Blue Eye , a familiar coke-like stench wafted in through the open windows.
I shared his trepidation. We were still on the O. After the heavy rain, we had passed a few landslides, where the sandy edges had surrendered to gravity and slithered down the precipice. Mark is considerably more gung ho than me. When communicating route plans, he tends towards extreme understatement and is vastly economical with the truth. For example, when he drove The Beast to the top of a mountain on what resembled footpath on the map: a fact I discovered only because he handed said map to me to navigate when he got lost.