I almost didn’t go to Albania.
That’s the thing nobody tells you about travel — half the best moments in your life happen because of a last-minute decision that made zero logical sense. I’d been bouncing around Europe, doing the usual thing, hitting the spots that show up first when you Google “where to go in the Balkans.” And then someone — I still can’t remember who — said “have you been to Vlore?”
I hadn’t. I barely knew where it was.
Three months later, I had an apartment there.
But let me back up, because the story that matters — the one that still makes me laugh when I think about it — is about a pizza place. A specific pizza place. One I only found because I got completely lost on a Tuesday afternoon with no plan, no Google Maps signal, and a stubborn refusal to ask for directions.
How I Found It
Vlore is a coastal city in southern Albania that most tourists completely skip. They go to Saranda, maybe Himara, maybe they do the Blue Eye and call it a day. Vlore is where actual Albanians live, work, and spend their summers. That was exactly why I stayed.
I’d been walking for about an hour — the kind of aimless walking where you’re technically exploring but really you’re just refusing to admit you have no idea where you are — when I turned a corner and smelled something. Pizza. Real pizza. Coming from a place with no English sign, no tourist photos in the window, no menu posted outside.
The kind of place that either kills you or becomes your favorite restaurant in the world.
I went in.
[ADD YOUR DETAILS: Describe the place — what did it look like inside? How many tables? Was it busy? Who was working?]
The Order
I don’t speak Albanian. Albanian doesn’t sound like any other language on earth — it’s not Slavic, not Romance, not Greek. It is its own thing and it will humble you fast. I pointed. The guy behind the counter said something. I nodded like I understood. He disappeared.
What came out of that kitchen [ADD YOUR DETAILS: describe what you actually ordered/received and what it was like] was one of those food moments you spend years chasing on every subsequent trip. The kind where you sit back after and think: okay. Okay. This is why I travel.
[ADD YOUR DETAILS: What made the pizza/food special? What happened during the meal — any interactions with staff or locals?]
What It Actually Cost
Here’s the part that still gets me. The whole thing — [ADD YOUR DETAILS: what you ordered] — came to [ADD YOUR DETAILS: price]. I put down what I had and the guy looked at me like I’d handed him a brick of gold.
That moment. That specific moment of realizing how far a dollar stretches when you get off the main tourist path. That’s not just a budget travel tip. That’s a perspective shift.
Why This Story Matters
I’ve eaten in [ADD YOUR DETAILS: number] countries now. I’ve had meals in places with Michelin stars and meals that cost less than a dollar off a cart on the side of a road. The best ones are almost never the expensive ones.
The best ones are always the places you find by accident. The places with no English menu and no TripAdvisor reviews and no tourists taking photos for Instagram. The places where the food is good because the food has to be good — because the people eating there are locals who actually live there and won’t come back if it’s bad.
Albania taught me that lesson hard. Vlore specifically. That pizza place most specifically.
I went back [ADD YOUR DETAILS: how many times] before I left. Of course I did.
If You Go
Vlore, Albania is roughly [ADD YOUR DETAILS: distance/travel time] from Tirana. It’s not a difficult trip. You can fly into Tirana, take a bus south, and be there in a few hours. Accommodation is cheap by European standards, the people are incredibly warm, and the coastline is one of the most underrated things I’ve ever seen.
Do yourself a favor and skip the tourist restaurants near the promenade. Walk until you’re slightly lost. Follow your nose. Order by pointing.
It works. I promise.
— Baldo
Follow along on Instagram and TikTok @whereisbaldo