On a rugged shore, Europe at its best.
What if you could combine the rugged beauty you'd find on Croatia's Dalmatian Coast with the ruins of an undiscovered Turkey or Greece, all wrapped in the easygoing nature characteristic of rural Italy -- at a fraction of the cost?
Turns out you can, on the coast of Albania. The roughly Maryland-size country, between Greece and Montenegro, sits about 45 miles east of Italy on the eastern shores of the Adriatic and has limestone-ringed beaches, ancient ruins like Butrint and waterfront inns where you can stay for less than $50 a night. Rampant development threatened to turn it all to concrete in the years after Communism, but a new government took office in September on promises of keeping the coast authentic. Head to villages like Qeparo, within sight of Corfu, where you can kayak past Cold War submarine tunnels, swim by abandoned forts and watch the tide rise during a dinner of fresh fish at an inn called the Riviera. This is Europe when it was fresh and cheap.
I haven't been to Palestine, so this will probably come across as ignorant. Berat, the UNESCO listed ancient "City of a Thouand Windows" in Albania, reminded me of Palestine.
I was sitting in a small Albanian communist-era apartment, standardised and cookie-cut just like so many other apartments in Albania. The building was decayed, run down, but lived in and homely.

Chipped and broken concrete steps rose internally five levels (no elevator), most of the light-bulbs are either not working, or missing. I used the light of my phone to see. None of this bothered me. I knew some of what Albania has been through over the last several decades, and was about to get another personal insight into the madness this country has recently endured. In the lounge room, ornate stitched lace covered many surfaces.
On the old television screen, an Albanian 24 hour news channel was flickering away. Two older ladies were feeding me incredible amounts of home made spinach Burek âEUR" a hearty Balkans style pie âEUR" and fresh, thick, yoghurt. They were smiling, happy, serviant to the point of making me feel slightly awkward. The generosity was a little overwhelming. They offered to descend the steps I had just walked up, and head down to buy me beer at the store.

I looked at my Albanian friend, sitting next to me on the couch, we both smiled. He had invited me into the home of his Mother and Aunt, the sweetest couple of ladies you could ever meet. I couldnâEUR(TM)t possibly eat another slice of Burek, but they continued to offer me more. I didnâEUR(TM)t want to offend, but I had to refuse. He understood, and sensed my awkwardness.

âEURoeNate, this is how all Albanians will treat their guests. This is normal. Just sit, relax, and treat this like it is your own home.âEUR