Wednesday, May 13, 2026
Route: Kotor → Lake Skadar → Albania → Montenegro → Peja, Kosovo

The goal was simple: drive from Kotor to Peja, Kosovo.

Naturally, we made it complicated.

I wanted to include Albania on the trip, so instead of taking the most direct route, we planned a northern clip through Albania and the Albanian Alps. A little Montenegro, a little Albania, a little Montenegro again, then Kosovo.

Daniel looked at the route.

“How many borders is that?”

“Enough to feel accomplished.”

We left Kotor and headed down the Montenegrin coast, cutting across toward Budva and then inland toward Lake Skadar. Lake Skadar is the largest lake in the Balkans, shared by Montenegro and Albania, and on the map it looked like a place where a great photo would be easy.

The map lied by omission.

Onto the Tracks at Lake Skadar

We stopped near a long bridge and walked onto railway tracks to try to get a better angle of the lake.

This was not our finest decision.

There was no train, which was helpful. There was also no spectacular photo, which made the whole exercise feel less like adventure and more like poor judgment with scenery.

“Worth it?” Daniel asked.

“For the photo? No.”

“For the story?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Into Northern Albania

From there, we drove toward Podgorica and crossed into northern Albania. Almost immediately, the landscape changed. The road moved into the Albanian Alps, and I was surprised by how good it was. I had expected rough pavement and loose edges. Instead, we found smooth, new-looking roads, switchbacks, protective rockfall nets, and rugged mountain views.

Northern Albania felt real and unpolished in the best way: limestone cliffs, green valleys, small villages, rivers, and roads curling through mountains that seemed too large for the settlements tucked beneath them.

We passed small villages near the Hoti area and later stopped near Selcë for lunch at a roadside restaurant and little guesthouse. It was one of those places that appears exactly when hunger starts influencing navigation.

Later, we stopped at a bridge near a river canyon. The water was clear, the rock was beautiful, and I decided to wade across just above a waterfall.

Daniel watched me.

“You know that sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“It was not a big waterfall.”

“That is not the reassuring part.”

He had a point.

I got good photos and videos, and more importantly, I did not become part of the river system.

We crossed back into Montenegro, drove toward Rožaje, and climbed over another mountain pass where snow still lingered in places. By then, snow in May had become less surprising and more like an old enemy waving from the ditch.

The Sleeping Insurance Man at the Border

Then came the Kosovo border.

The officer asked if we had insurance. I showed him the green card for the car.

He looked at it.

“Kosovo not included.”

Of course it wasn’t.

“Can I buy insurance?” I asked.

He pointed to a small building nearby.

Inside, a man was sleeping on a couch.

This did not immediately inspire confidence, though I have learned that official services in some places can look surprisingly informal. I knocked on the window. The man woke up, came over, and sold us the required Kosovo insurance.

“How long?” I asked.

“Minimum 15 days.”

“We only need two.”

“Minimum 15 days.”

“How much?”

“Fifteen euros.”

At that price, I decided we could be insured for two days, 15 days, or until the next ice age. We paid, got the paper, and returned to the border guard.

He did not want to see it.

Naturally.

There is a universal law of bureaucracy: the document is urgent until you have it.

Finding Peja After Dark

Once in Kosovo, we drove toward Peja, near Rugova Canyon. Finding our apartment became the next challenge. The host had sent addresses that seemed more like clues than directions. Google Maps was uncertain. We drove back and forth. At one point, we crossed a bridge that did not seem to exist on the map.

“That bridge wasn’t on Google,” Daniel said.

“Maybe we are pioneers.”

“Or lost.”

“Both can be true.”

Eventually we found the apartment. The neighborhood felt rough around the edges, but the location was great: close to Rugova Canyon and about a 10-minute walk into the city.

We walked toward the bazaar, but it was evening and most of it was closed. That was our fault. Bazaars are less exciting after the bazaar part has ended.

Dinner saved the night. We went to Flo’s Restaurant. I had a rice-and-vegetable dish for about 8 euros, and Daniel had filet mignon for around 17 euros. The food was genuinely good, and the prices made Western Europe look like it needed to calm down.

We had started in Kotor and ended in Kosovo after Montenegro, Albania, Montenegro again, mountain roads, a questionable railway stop, a canyon river, a sleeping insurance salesman, and a map-defying apartment hunt.

That was not a transfer day.

That was a road-trip episode.