The first thing we saw in Berat was a street full of cafes and bars, so of course we immediately stopped to check it out. It wasn't long before we discovered that there were only men at these cafes, no women. It was dinnertime, I was hungry and I wanted to eat, but I felt like I was breaking the rules. We found a restaurant down a side street with no one in it and asked in a charades-like way if we could sit down to eat. The owner welcomed us like family, and immediately brought us grilled meat, bread and salad. A friend of the cook sat with us and tried to hold a conversation with his limited English. He frequently drew in younger people from the street to translate for him. He was so friendly and entertaining that I didn't feel uncomfortable at all being the only female out in public.

 

After dinner we drove around looking for a spot to sleep. That's when we stumbled upon the old town, which was considerably more touristy. We parked in a semi-quiet area and then took a stroll around the streets, admiring all the buildings lit up at night. The were people everywhere, probably due to Ramadan, although it wasn't as crowded as Saranda. We popped into a souvenir store and found a drinking glass to replace the one we had lost earlier today (thanks to Albania's appalling roads). 
 

The next day didn't start so well for us. First, we did our usual test of the UHT milk, because in this heat it goes off within a day or two. The milk was off. So I opened a new one, and after I had poured it onto my cereal and taken a mouthful I realised that it was sour too. We had no bread and no more milk, so there was no breakfast for us. Second, we discovered the lid wasn't on the sugar properly and sugar had spilled everywhere (again, I blame the roads). Thankfully there were no ants or other critters around, but it took forever to clean up. Our day did get better after that.

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In Berat we walked up a long, long hill to reach a citadel at the top. We are used to climbing hills, but today was the hottest day we had suffered through so far and we were melting. It seemed to take a lifetime to reach the summit. When we finally made it I was just expecting some sort of castle, or perhaps the ruin of one, but there was a whole village up there, surrounded by castle walls. Ramshackle buildings lined cobblestone streets, local handicrafts were being sold from shops, and incredibly people actually lived up there. The buildings weren't anything amazing, although the views from each side were photo-worthy. Danny thought the place was great. I was so exhausted after the climb that I didn't know how I felt about it.

 

Once we returned to the town of Berat (even going downhill we were drenched in sweat) Danny decided to get a haircut, hoping the shorter hair would keep him cooler. I was very grateful to the “berber” who also convinced him to get a shave, cut-throat style, so that he came out looking like regular Danny (not hobo Danny).