Day 79 - July 30th: Tunnel Vision

Fushë Krujë to Bradashesh: 34.3 miles / Total 2,253

I wasn’t sure of the why, but George W. Bush is all over the town of Fushë Krujë. Our hotel - The W Bush Hotel, bakeries, and stores sport the name of America’s 43rd president. Turns out Bush visited here in 2007—the first sitting U.S. president to do so—and locals remember him fondly. It’s their way of honoring him.

The town itself feels very local—no high-end restaurants or tourism infrastructure, just cafes, bakeries, repair shops, and corner markets.

We found a pizzeria for dinner, split a simple salad and pizza, and got to work recasting our route based on the longer mileage we’ve been logging. We also had to detour around North Macedonia due to Hertz restrictions. Our new plan is to exit Albania into Greece by August 2 or 3.

We are also trying to figure out logistics for getting the updated EU Pet Passport from Monica. Having this will reduce the risk of him being denied entry into Greece. We decided that Christina would leave early to get to Tirane, the capital of Albania, so she could see if a veterinarian could issue one here.

I left our zero star hotel at 6 AM and had a quick coffee downstairs at the café with a crowd of 20 men—no women in sight. That’s been consistent in Albania,.

The night before, Christina and I had stopped in a pastry shop and found some excellent baklava, along with a massive cinnamon roll that served as breakfast.

Trash collection works differently here—centralized drop-off points—but it seems no one’s come by for a while. Overflowing bins, garbage scattered around, and street dogs rummaging alongside people looking for recyclables have become common. It’s the first country on this trip where both feel widespread.

The morning was beautiful—blue skies, temps in the 60s—as I ran along E762 toward Tirana. I ran up a gentle slope for a few kilometers and then the city came alive. The bustle reminded me of a miniature Delhi: stalls packed with produce, chickens, used clothes, shoes, everything.

The main roads funneled me up a long incline into a dense neighborhood where I crossed a canal via a new pedestrian bridge. Thankfully the original one next to it had been decommissioned

At a cafe, I ducked in for water and a large macchiato—standard now. Like always, it was filled with smoke. I tried to avoid it, but Albania is a country of smokers. Young, old—doesn’t matter. I started running the numbers in my head: two packs a day over 30 years could cost you $1.3 million in lost investment returns… and three years of your life holding a cigarette.

Eventually I reached downtown Tirana, and it was like stepping into a different country. Wide boulevards, bike lanes, polished shops, clean streets—it felt like a European capital again. In the heart of town, I passed the Et’hem Bey Mosque, a beautifully restored 18th-century Ottoman mosque that was closed under Enver Hoxha’s communist regime and only reopened in the 1990s. That sums up Tirana: layers of Ottoman, Italian, and Communist history now coexisting with a push toward modern Europe.

Meanwhile, Christina had made it to a vet in Tirana. Since Albania isn’t in the EU, he couldn’t issue an official EU Pet Passport, but he gave her a certificate for Greece and confirmed we’d need official papers for Turkey. At the same time, Monica went to DHL and had the original passport shipped to Tirana’s DHL office for pickup. If all goes well, Christina will retrieve it tomorrow and we’ll put this issue to rest.

Leaving Tirana, I followed Google Maps to rejoin A1/E762—the main artery linking Tirana to Elbasan. Thankfully, the shoulder was wide enough to give me breathing room. About 6k into the climb, Google tried to route me off onto a side road that would have added 15k and some major climbing. I stayed on A1 and pressed up the mountain toward the tunnel.

I crested the climb at 40k and saw a tunnel. As I neared it, a man from the control tower came out and flagged me down. He spoke English and told me I couldn’t enter the tunnel—3.5 km long, no pedestrians allowed. I explained I’d run from Portugal and hadn’t taken a ride yet. I promised to be careful. He sighed, shrugged, then waved me on and wished me luck.

Inside, the tunnel roared. I hadn’t realized how loud those airflow fans were—they’re jet engines. I kept a steady pace, and 35 minutes later, I emerged on the other side with 44k behind me. The rest was literally downhill.

I met Christina and Jax at 55k in Bradashes and we drove 11k to our hotel in Elbasan, a city with deep roots going back to Roman times when it was called Scampis. Elbasan was later fortified by the Ottomans and has one of the few surviving castle-towns in Albania.

Tomorrow we’ll recalibrate again and hope DHL delivers. For now, it’s food, a beer, and some sleep.

Thanks for following and for all your support.

Cheers,

David.

P.S. Very cheeky, Alastair. But in my case, GOAT is more reflective of how I run these days—like an actual goat.