Trip 06 / Albania
The Riviera, Albania
This Balkan nation has a growing reputation among folks in search of spectacular scenery, Mediterranean sun and a rugged charm. Here’s where to go.
It began as a whisper, an intriguing proposition. As interest surged, it grew to a chorus chanted from London to Los Angeles: “Visit Albania!” “It’s like the Cayman Islands but in Europe!” “It’s like Greece but half the price!” “The waters are as blue and warm as the Caribbean Sea itself!” The Balkan nation is now, according to the chatter, the place to go to enjoy a sun-drenched, beachside European getaway with an aura of post-communist exoticism. To verify these claims, monocle set out for the 120km-long southern stretch of coastline dubbed the Albanian Riviera (no doubt by a marketing-savvy clerk at the National Tourism Agency with a penchant for chic suffixes).
One of the easiest ways to access the southern tip of Albania is to board a ferry from Corfu or the Puglian city of Bari and cross the sea to Sarandë, a port town with pizzerias, cocktail bars and gelaterias that line its tidy promenade. Here, vendors in canopied stalls hawk carved wooden goods and football shirts to passers-by. The mountains that cradle the bay heave with hotels and apartment blocks featuring sea-facing balconies. Sarandë’s main draw is its convenience as a launchpad for the rest of the region. Turn right from the port to go south or left to go north. A further 20-minute drive will bring you to a rocky beach with velvety blue waters.
As we pick up our rental car, our friendly lessor tells Marco Argüello (monocle’s Athens-based photographer) that he can pay in full at the end of our visit. “And if you don’t, the police will find you very easily,” he adds with a smile as he waves us off.
The south of the riviera, especially the town of Ksamil, has absorbed much of the surge in tourism in recent years. It’s easy to see why. The craggy, arid landscape harbours beaches rendered in oversaturated tones. Jetsetters abound; British-Albanian singer Dua Lipa has often stayed in a villa within the luxurious Kep Merli resort. As we wind our way down the coast, painted wooden signs advertise beach clubs with names like Bora Bora, Puerto Rico, Blue Diamond, Paradise and, more mystifyingly, Greg.
By the water, the white drapery of cabanas-for-hire billow and straw umbrellas shade loungers, the pulsating sounds of Europop anthems dominating the airwaves. Fruit sellers rove the pristine beaches with trays of cherries, grapes, figs and fried dough. “I’ve come here to escape the crowds in Italy but still experience something you might find in Puglia or even Greece,” says Giuseppe, an Italian holidaymaker sporting Speedos, a Panama hat and an iridescent sheen of sunscreen. Going by snippets overheard, it seems that most people hail from Giuseppe’s home country. However, there is a fair degree of English, Dutch, German, French, Danish, Russian and Portuguese representation too. On Pulëbardha bay, we meet a British couple in their sixties who say that they have been pleasantly surprised by the beauty of the Albanian coast. Overall, the mood is upbeat. Tanning sessions are interrupted for leisurely lunches of grilled fish, mussels and bottles of Korça, the local beer with labels featuring buxom Balkan women.
Construction has noticeably surged to meet the infrastructure demands of the Albanian Riviera’s newfound popularity. “Albania is developing a lot,” says Elena Bardhi, co-owner of the Moyo beach club on Drymades beach. “There is new investment coming in and it’s changing year-to-year.” Once a haven for hippies who would spend summers camping there, Drymades now exemplifies the wave of beach clubs and resorts crashing down on these once-virginal seafronts. But Bardhi cites the welcome arrival of the new Llogara tunnel, a government-funded project that opened in July 2024. The former 30-minute journey over the Ceraunian mountain range, travelling from Dukat to Palasë, has been shaved to seven minutes. Albania’s prime minister, Edi Rama, is also pushing for a new airport in Vlorë to improve access to the south. “We need to cherish and protect the land but we’re also trying to put Albania on the map,” says Bardhi. “In five years, everything will be closer to being finished.”
Since founding Moyo in 2022 with her husband Julian Zguro – the chef behind popular Tirana restaurant Tribe – Bardhi has overseen the beach club, which includes two restaurants, a yoga studio, a spa and a shop that stocks clothes and jewellery made by local artisans. She also organises events throughout the summer every year to attract lively crowds. But while Bardhi is eager to expand Moyo’s reach by hosting international DJs, she is conscious of safekeeping Albanian culture too; line-ups are spliced with local iso-polyphony singing (the Unesco-protected style of folk music). “We implement an Albanian vibe because we’re here, on this beautiful sea with the mountains directly behind us,” she says. “It’s magical.”
It’s true. For those not in a rush, taking the scenic route through the mountains is a rewarding experience. Olive groves mingle with sprays of lavender, sage and bougainvillea. The occasional mushroom-shaped concrete bunker is a reminder of Albania’s Stalinist leader Enver Hoxha’s rule from 1944 to 1985: paranoid about an invasion, he commissioned the construction of more than 750,000 of these bunkers that, ultimately, were never used. Today, herds of brown horses and their foals graze past them. Roadside vendors sell dried sage and rose petals, fresh plums, fig jam, honey and olive oil in repurposed plastic bottles and jars – often displayed on chintzy floral blankets. In the mountains, the sound of cicadas is constant when it’s not being drowned out by the intoxicating riffs of Balkan pop coming from the car radio.
The south of the country still struggles with the rural exodus that took place in the wake of Hoxha’s rule. (The Albanian diaspora is estimated to be about 1.2 million people; the national population is currently 2.4 million.) But the emergence of the coastline as a tourism destination has seen many people of Albanian descent return to the country for a holiday or to find work during the summer season. For example, Moyo’s friendly Albanian shopkeeper Jehona Shabani is usually based in Stockholm. And we meet Noel Çani in Qeparo at his family’s seven-bedroom hotel, Kshira Oasis; he now lives in Rome but returns to Albania every summer to help his parents run the business. “My friends in Italy all say that they want to come to Albania now,” says Çani. “When I was growing up, everyone here wanted to leave because of the economy,” he adds with a perfectly executed Balkan shrug.
Even non-Albanians are setting up their own ventures on the riviera. In the laidback seaside town of Himarë, we meet for a final sundowner with Mexico City-based Leah Whitman-Salkin. With her partner, chef Raphael Wolf, and friend Ervjola Selenica, she opened restaurant and bar Plazhi i Saturnit as a summer project. Prior to Mexico, Whitman-Salkin lived and worked for six years as a book editor in Tirana. There, she opened a bookshop, started a feminist reading group and curated the Albanian pavilion at the 2016 Venice Architecture Biennale. “Going to the coast in the summer was a very important part of my life in Albania,” she says over a glass of orange wine. “Being here holds a lot of meaning. We all had this fantasy of bringing people together at a beach bar. We’re a hotchpotch crew but it’s been amazing. We’ve had friends come from Tirana and Pristina but also Mexico.”
Wolf is busy in the kitchen preparing today’s menu: fried potatoes with sage foraged that morning, caponata and pink shrimp crudo in plum water. This evening, his sous-chef is Whitman-Salkin’s mother, Frankie. “We work with three different local fishermen to source all of the seafood,” says Whitman-Salkin. “It’s fusion food in the sense that we’re all designing the menu together and we come from different backgrounds. Raphael trained in New York but has also worked in Tokyo and Mexico City.”
As we dig in, the sky glows orange and beachgoers begin to pack up their lilos and parasols. It’s true what they say: you should visit Albania. But it’s not Italy, Greece nor anywhere in the Caribbean Sea – and that’s a good thing. It has a charm of its own. —
The Albanian Riviera address book
stay
Zoe Hora
Perched in the hills overlooking the village of Dhërmi, Zoe Hora is an upmarket hotel that offers rooms and villas within its stone-walled premises. Stay here to enjoy breakfast by the pool and an evening aperitivo, while taking in a view of the sea from a roof terrace.
zoehora.com
eat
Taverna Stolis
The Albanian Riviera’s proximity to Greece can be felt in the abundance of tavernas offering fresh fish, grilled vegetables and baked dishes such as moussaka. Our favourite is Taverna Stolis in Himarë, set within the peaceful confines of an olive grove. Make sure to round off the meal with a shot of the homemade raki, brewed in a bottle that also contains a wooden cross.
+355 69 283 3993
drink
Moyo Beach Club
Located on the far southern end of Drymades beach, Moyo Beach Club attracts a well-heeled crowd. After a day spent catching waves in the Ionian Sea, we recommend settling in here for the evening with a margarita and small plates of lobster ceviche, tuna tartare and bruschetta.
moyo.al
see
Zvërnec Monastery
Located north of the pine-tree forests of Vlorë, on an island in the Narta Lagoon, you will find this 14th-century Byzantine monastery. Inside, the paintings and intricate woodwork are well-preserved examples of Balkan art history. If you’re lucky, you might even see some flamingoes in the lagoon.
shop
Abaia Winery &Vineyard
Albania’s wine scene is on the rise, with wineries improving the local stock. Make a pit stop at the Abaia Winery & Vineyard near Durrës to pick up some bottles of Shesh i Bardhë white and some local virgin olive oil to take home.
abaiawinery.al
swim
Gjipe beach
A brisk 20-minute hike down a red-dirt trail takes you this beach. Located in a secluded bay surrounded by lush greenery, it’s a hidden gem that is well worth the effort to get there.