A motorhome parts hiccup near Plataria strands me for a week—but the view, the village, and the ouzo make it feel like a blessing in disguise.

A quiet evening in Sagiada: mullet, garlic-rich tzatziki, and the Ionian breeze — the kind of simplicity that feels like luxury.

First night in Greece, first sleep at the sea’s edge. Sagiada welcomes with quiet charm, a tiny marina, and the distant silhouette of Corfu.

Right after the border, Greece opens its arms — quiet beaches, open shores, and that deep blue you instantly remember.

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

Free beach camping by a pine forest near Vlorë. No neighbours, no menu, just grilled fish caught that morning by the owner and sunsets that look photoshopped. The good kind of nowhere.

A drive through Vlorë reveals Albania in flux: glimmering façades, ghost buildings, investment fever, and EU hopes colliding with contradictions—and I was right in the middle of it.

Brief but stirring: a drive across Montenegro reveals breathtaking landscapes and hidden lakes like Poljičko, tempting a longer return. For now, it’s a fleeting glimpse—Greece calls, but the Western Balkans linger.

On the R427 near Bileća, the road ends—and China begins. Explosions, silos, Mandarin banners, and prefab dorms mark a deeper story: Beijing’s silent grip on the Balkans through debt, concrete, and control.

A blocked road near Stolac led to one of the trip’s best moments: a peaceful lunch by a centuries-old wool fulling mill on the Bregava River, surrounded by ruins, trees, and total calm.