Pedalbania – Stage 1
Korçë – Farma Sotira, nr Gërmenj
26 May 2018
Distance: 61.4km; total ascent: 1315m
We were taken in the minibus from the hotel to a layby just on the further edge of Korçë. Here we tried our bikes for the first time, adjusting saddle heights and in my case fitting pedals. American Jack from Oregon was the only one to have brought his own bike; a handbuilt job with wheels he’d poached from his tandem. He’s going on to France after this holiday to cycle in the Pyrenees.
The bikes are Giant; hybrid style, steel frame, front suspension, disk brakes, 30 gears and fitted with pannier carriers. We have a single pannier each to carry everyday items. A quick briefing and we were on our way – four kilometres on the flat before the first climb.
Let me describe how our days went. The previous evening Erlis would brief us about the coming day. We were each given an A4 sheet of paper with a map and a height profile; regrouping points, coffee and lunch stops were marked. We would set off together but soon split up, not just because some were faster than others but also because people stopped to take photos, have a rest and so on. We’d regroup at the designated spots and often informally at other points – views, hilltops, etc. It was a good system and worked well. Vato followed behind with the minibus and trailer in case of breakdown, accident or overwhelming exhaustion.
Back to the first day. It’s described in the Exodus trip notes and confirmed by Erlis as the hardest day of the week, except for the last day. There are four substantial climbs and plenty of other small ups and downs. The distance may not be great but with the temperature in the mid-twenties and the heavier bike it certainly felt like a tough day.
The first climb. Ah, that set the pattern for the rest of the week. The bikes rode like mountain bikes – very sensitive to gradient changes. As the road started uphill I clattered down through the gears until I was about two above lowest. As the group sorted itself into the strong and the weak, soon only Peter was behind me. It was hot. The road was in full sun, with concrete walls on both sides. The climb took me about half an hour to cover four and a half kilometres.
Our first ‘official’ stop was at a delightful café/bar/restaurant in the middle of nowhere, with a cool shady garden. Erlis acted as go-between and waiter, taking our drink orders and delivering them to the table. Out of the minibus came Snickers bars, bananas, packets of nuts and salty pretzel sticks which with an occasional variant of Mars bars became our staple refuelling régime. Vato also carried bottled water in the minibus so we could top up our bidons. This was luxury cycle touring!
There was another hill before we stopped for lunch; a full sit-down restaurant meal in Ersekë at about 12.30.
The afternoon was indeed tough. The roads in this part of Albania are, to say the least, varied. They range from fairly smooth tarmac to unmade gravel, with a particular fondness for hard, bumpy aggregate chips, patches and potholes. Full attention was needed to avoid mishaps. A series of smaller ups and downs preceded the third major climb and descent; regrouping at the foot of the last (and hardest, said Erlis) we were given final instructions for getting to the farm where we were staying that night.
The group split quickly and once again only Peter was behind me as we ground up on a bendy twisting road through the welcome shade of a forest. Granny gear minus two, then minus one, and finally Granny herself; just keep the pedals turning and you’ll get there eventually, I told myself. After three kilometres the sign advertising “Farma Sotira 4km” meant it was only another kilometre and a half to the top. No sign of the others ahead or Peter behind. Keep going. Vato overtakes in the minibus and trailer. I wave. And then it’s over – the top! Vato’s there and I decide to wait for Peter so we can arrive together. A few minutes later Peter comes in sight, reaches the minibus – and goes straight onto the final downhill run. I hop on the bike and chase after him. We get to the valley below, round a bend, over a bridge, and there it is! Our trout farm home for the night. We ride in, see the others sitting under a shady roof, dismount as Erlis walks over with two open bottles of cold beer. This is how cycling should be!
Viewranger track for the day:
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