durrës: where olives whisper secrets

walking around *durrës today feels like stepping into a terracotta pot - cool, dry, and crumbly at the edges. the air’s got this 16-degree cling to it, smells like salt and dust, and honestly? it’s exactly what my chlorophyll-craving soul needed. if you’re the type who thinks plants should be loud and flashy, durrës isn’t your jam. but if you dig ancient olive groves that look like they’ve been wrestling with the wind since roman times, you’ll find your people.


pressure’s dropping like a bad habit, and the humidity’s low enough to make a cactus feel judged. someone warned me that the amphitheatre reeks of tourist sweat by noon - true dat. also heard a tipsy local at a taverna whisper that the seafood at port square is only worth it if you’ve got a death wish or a very thick wallet. this yelp thread backs that up.


if your brain starts to fry from too much history (it will), tirana’s just a short drive north for espresso that tastes like actual coffee. sarandë’s beaches are calling too, but only if you enjoy dodging Germans in Speedos. my botanical mission here? cataloging every gnarled fig tree and purple thistle along the coast. found a patch near the old fortress where the myrtles grow so thick they hum. this forum has decent intel on hidden flora hotspots.


pressure’s holding at 1022 though - that’s the kind of stable energy I need when sketching sage bushes* at dawn. locals swear by the mineral springs near shkëmbi i karaburunit, but I think they’re just trying to sell you goat cheese. tripadvisor’s got the deets if you’re into that.


moral of the story? bring sunscreen. a sketchbook. and zero expectations. the real magic here’s in the cracks between the ruins.