Last day in Shkoder. The apartment needs cleaning, the dishes need washing, and I need to stock up on medications that are shockingly cheap here and don’t require prescriptions. It’s the unglamorous side of long-term travel — the part where you scrub a kitchen instead of exploring a castle. But the day’s real test came at dinner: a seafood restaurant where everything I wanted was unavailable, yet somehow delivered the one thing I’d been chasing all week.

✋ Unwind — Packing, Cleaning, and the Hotel Tax

That’s the downside to not staying in a hotel: you have to clean up the kitchen, wash the dishes, and leave the apartment tidy. It’s a small price to pay for having your own space — a real kitchen, a living room, the ability to cook breakfast in your underwear — but on departure day, the hotel tax comes due. You are your own housekeeping.

I also went out and bought some medications. They are supposedly very cheap here and many meds don’t require a prescription, so it’s time to stock up. The kind of errand that doesn’t make it into travel brochures but matters more than most souvenirs.

👅 Palate — Marina Seafood Restaurant

For my last dinner in Shkoder, I went to a seafood place called Marina Seafood Restaurant. I had my eye on the red porgy. Unavailable. I asked for the mixed seafood plate. Also unavailable. I ended up settling for sea bream — which I wanted to avoid, since it’s farmed. But when the menu narrows to a single option, you take it or you leave.

The fish arrives grilled, and as far as I can tell, unseasoned. That’s fine — let the fish speak. It has a mild flavor that could easily be confused for tilapia, except the meat is a bit denser, with more structure. It’s accompanied by broccoli and cauliflower in a white sauce. Edible. Competent. Not the red porgy I came for.

I am saddened that red porgy was not available. A last meal in a city should be a crescendo, not a compromise. But then I realized something halfway through the meal: no one was smoking. Not at my table, not three tables away, not anywhere on the terrace.

The highlight of the evening is that no ghouls showed up with their death sticks. The first full meal — and my last in Shkoder — that was 100% smoke-free.

A small miracle on my final night. The food gods took the red porgy but gave me clean air in exchange. I’ll take that trade.

🙏 Sanctuary — Ebu Beker Mosque and the Last Ice Cream

After dinner, I headed for ice cream and my sacred magical bench — the one with the wind tunnel, the shade, the near-total smoke immunity. I cinched the ice cream — Snickers-infused, a mashup of chocolate, caramel, and peanut that hits harder than it has any right to — but my bench was occupied.

I found another bench a ways down, in the shadow of Ebu Beker Mosque. The minaret rose against the darkening sky. I sat and ate greedily — partly because the ice cream was melting, partly because I spotted one ghoul nearby and couldn’t take any chances. I finished before the smoke could find me.

It wasn’t my bench. But sitting in the shadow of a mosque on your last night in a city you didn’t expect to love — that has its own kind of magic.

🧭 Wander — Leaving Shkoder

Tomorrow I board a bus to Tirana for about three weeks. I leave Shkoder with a mental taste note for lamb I may never taste again, a deep appreciation for a bench that the wind gods blessed, and a complicated relationship with cigarette smoke that borders on vendetta. Four days in this city gave me 26 dishes and 26 prison cells, a software-developer-philosopher who rolls grape leaves by hand, a Whopper I regret and fried pancakes I don’t, and a seafood dinner where nothing I wanted was available and everything I needed was.

I hope to have better luck with seafood in Tirana. But the food gods must show grace and mercy — and as I learned tonight, sometimes they do.

By the Numbers

Item	Amount (EUR)
Medications (OTC stock-up)	—
Marina Seafood — grilled sea bream + vegetables (2,500 ALL)	€23.92
Snickers ice cream, old town	€2.00
Day Total	€25.92+

Four days in Shkoder. I arrived not knowing what to expect and I’m leaving with the taste of mountain lamb, the memory of a magic bench, and a genuine fondness for a city that smokes too much, parks on sidewalks, and plays loud music until dawn. Shkoder doesn’t announce itself. It just stays with you. Safe travels to Tirana.