Valley of the Stillness

A quiet day through Albania’s backlands: wild horses, unfazed cows, and resting souls with a view over their earthly paradise.

I didn’t expect company. But just after a bend, under a knotted olive tree, stood a small group of horses—silent, free, entirely at ease. One of them watched me through a hollow in the trunk, as if the tree itself had grown an eye.

The road kept winding. More unexpected hosts appeared—cows grazing along the asphalt, ignoring the rules of transit like seasoned anarchists of the highlands. Time moved slower with them around.

And then came the view. A valley that stretched out wide, green, and dignified, tucked beneath a sky weighed down by clouds. A cemetery spread across the slope like a gathering of stories. Headstones aligned toward the horizon, the valley they once called home still within sight. As if even in death, these people had refused to turn their backs to the land.

A peaceful ending, I thought. To live in a valley like that—and to remain with it.

 

Out There > Motorhome Trip Spring 2025 Western Balkans and Greece > Konispol in Silence, Albania