Wednesday, August 10- London to Tirana

 Giant international airports are always a hoot.  They’re more agora than airport.  Gucci. Tiffany’s.  Vuitton.  A place specializing in caviar, on-site or to take home.  Cosmetic and perfume companies.  I did fall for a bottle of duty-free scotch; now that the remainder of my trip would be overland till my flight home, I didn’t need to worry about putting it in a checked bag and then having the bag go astray.  I was, it turned out, eligible to use the Fast Track security line (I estimate that saved me over an hour) and the BA Lounge since I‘d gotten a Business Class seat by redeeming the small pile of BA miles I’d accumulated years ago and carefully kept by creating activity in the account.  It also got me a nice meal on board accompanied by wine.  The only other passengers in the 24 Business Class seats were a pair of ladies who held hands a lot and had multiple refills of Champagne.  We were taken care of very well.

Unfortunately, the free in-flight Wi-Fi didn’t show locations but I know the Alps when I see them.  Photos, of course, don’t capture it.  You gotta be there.

Approaching Albania.

The taxi driver the hotel had promised to send wasn’t there.  Not surprising.  Fortunately I hadn’t paid in advance.  I found the taxi stand and was soon on my way.  The driver was listening to some political talk show- I heard “Enver Hoxha” 3 times as well as references to Communism and Socialism.  The rest was incomprehensible.  Albanian is unrelated to Romance languages.