Why You Should Get Lost in Karaburun Peninsula
Albanian's sole national maritime park is the perfect place to disconnect and enjoy nature
Have you ever felt like you needed to lose yourself in order to get found?
It’s tempting to open a GPS or map and try to navigate your way towards the final destination.
But sometimes, it’s better to just see where the path takes you.
That’s the experience I had trekking through the wilderness of Karaburun Peninsula. I knew where I was going, but couldn’t help feeling taken by the idea that I was truly lost in the wilderness of Albania’s westernmost point.
Karaburun is the country’s sole maritime national park. It’s protected by national law, so nobody is permitted to build or develop the region, leaving it in pristine, untouched condition.
If you live in a busy metropolis like Tirana where cars zoom past and bars blare nonstop upbeat music and everyone is rushing from one end of the city to the next, getting lost in a place like Karaburun can provide some much needed respite.
We are simply human beings, part of this planet as much as the lizards basking in the sun on a rock by the trailhead, the tree branches swaying softly in the Mediterranean breeze, the goats chomping on grass along the reddish dirt of the trail to Saint Andrew’s Bay.
Saint Andrew’s Bay
The most easily-accessible part of Karaburun Peninsula is Saint Andrew’s Beach, a gorgeous natural bay accessed by a mere 3-hour hike from Palasë. If you start from the Green Coast residential complex and stay close to the Ionian the entire time, you will eventually stumble upon this small slice of paradise.
Part of the bay’s charm is the eponymous abandoned church that overlooks the tiny beach. It’s easy to imagine monks spending quiet days overlooking the sea as they went about their day, meditating and studying religious texts.
There isn’t much to see or do here besides sunbathe and enjoy the water. As we watched the Caribbean-like waters from the church, we saw two separate schools of fish looking for food along the rocks. They were in almost perfect geometrical diamond-shaped schools, moving like a singular organism through the water.
This bay is a perfect spot for skinny dipping if you’re lucky enough to go in the winter, when nobody bothers to venture out into this part of the wilderness. On a tantalizingly bright and clear February day, Saint Andrew’s is the perfect way to reconnect with yourself and enjoy the solitude of nature and the sea.
Grama Bay
If you’re brave enough to keep up the trek, one of Albania’s most famous tourist destinations can be revealed an hour and a half further along the coast.
Grama Bay is a massive inlet that holds historical as well as natural significance. As you near the viewpoint of the gorgeous bay, the strong winds will try to lift you up and away.
The walls of the bay look like they’ve been carved out of stone, because they have been - used as quarries by the Ancient Romans who excavated minerals and valuable stones from the cliff sides to haul back to the capital. Once you hit the beach, you will see multiple inscriptions carved on the wall - some in Latin, some in Greek, and one even in Turkish.
The bay used to be an attractive place for large boats to ship away natural resources to foreign lands. Today, boats bring hoards of tourists blasting pop music and bright fluorescent floaties.
This is why it’s best to visit in February - we were the only ones on the beach, so we could camp wherever we wanted and enjoy the serenity of this gorgeous spot all to ourselves. The water was a bit choppy the day we arrived due to the intense winds, though it quieted over the course of the night and in the morning, looked like wavy glass.
The most intriguing experience I had while camping in Grama was going to the edge of the water to pee before I got into bed. The moon was half-full and bathing the bay in pale light, giving the water this otherworldly sheen and the carved cliffs of the quarries a skeletal aura. It felt like I had stepped out of civilization, out of this world, and into an upside-down universe where all was deathly quiet and yet unnervingly alive and vibrating with energy.
The hooting of a solitary owl was our companion for the night. We had forgotten the tent cover we needed for the night, so we slept very little as the temperatures plunged below zero. We spent most of the time shivering in our sleeping bags.
In the morning we built a fire in front of the quarry walls to warm up. In the shade of the early morning, the beach is less impressive; as the sun came out and bathed the beach in light, it regained its surreal colors and vibrancy.
Practical Tips for Karaburun
The hike to Saint Andrew’s was less challenging since we started early in the morning, when the sun was still low. The terrain is very rocky and you are likely to walk past many snakes trying to warm up in the sun rays.
The most dangerous thing you’ll encounter in this region of Albania - well, hiking the Albanian wilderness in general - is shepherd’s dogs.
Sure, these mountains are home to wolves that will eat cows whole and bears that will likely viciously protect their cubs.
But the scariest and most definitively dangerous thing you will ever come across when hiking in Albania is a shepherd’s dog - these poor creatures are beaten into hateful frenzies by their owners, who want them to be as ferocious as possible when it comes to protecting their valuable flocks of sheep, goats and cows.
So if you ever hear the telltale clang of a cow’s bell or the bleating of goats in the Albanian wilderness, make sure your entire group sticks together and grab a stick or rock - you are likely to come across a herd being guarded by one of these bloodthirsty animals. You’ll recognize them by the spiked collars (meant to deter wolves from biting their necks off) and their inexplicable, consuming desire to murder you.
Other than that, though, it’s quite safe. Wolves are afraid of the humans in these parts because Albanians have for centuries beaten them back and deterred them from attacking their livestock and homesteads.
So if they get a whiff of human-scent, they run away.
One of my favorite things to do when I hike in this area is to collect medicinal herbs like sage, oregano and thyme. These medicinal herbs are plentiful in the wilderness and free for the taking - the sage is especially strong and makes for a great tea. If you’re lucky, you can also come across caj mali, mountain tea flowers, which make for an excellent caffeine-free tea, too (in Greece they call it shepherd’s tea).
These flowers are so flavorful and contain multiple antioxidants and healthy compounds. I always take a fistful back home with me.
We almost always come across a shepherd or two on this path - it’s about 3 hours if you’re a steady hiker. They are always curious to know why a bunch of foreigners are walking this path, and surprised to hear that we plan to camp.
We met one such man on the way back - he lived near Llogara Pass and was enjoying his day off by walking in nature (no water bottle, backpack or food). The usual, irrepressible Albanian desire to socialize and learn more about us took over, and he struck up amicable conversation with the Albanian in our troupe (he didn’t seem open to speaking to me in my beginner’s level Albanian).
That’s all for now. Keep an eye out for the follow-up post recommending two other excellent destinations in Karaburun.