Day 15: Podgorica to Golem (Albania)

I'm worried about today's ride. There are dire warnings about Albanian roads and drivers; it has the highest death toll in Europe. Also, I have no Albanian money as it is not possible to get it outside of the country. I've been told that I'm likely to be targeted by police as a foreign source of 'additional revenue' so I'm looking forward to that. I'll try not to think of aggressive drivers who 'may be armed' according to the government website. Fun, fun, fun.
Communication is becoming a problem. Wi-fi sparse and intermittent.
As soon as leave Podgorica, Satty takes us off the main roads and into the back lanes. There's no traffic, which I like. The leaves are bright green showing that Spring is well under way this far south.

I pass through narrow lanes onto a concrete track, falling down to a more major road, which after ten minutes stops abruptly at the border.
The wait is hot and slow.
I'm getting worried as I have no money with which to buy fuel or pay for things. Albania is largely a cash economy.
I ask the border guard where I can buy Lev and he indicates the next town along.
I struggle to find a bank but see a boy with his mum. I guess that he's likely to study English at school. My guess is right and he directs me to a cashpoint round the corner. His mum is beaming at him, proud at his ability. I praise his English and thank them.

The machine won't accept  the first two cards I feed in, displaying an unintelligible message on the screen. Finally, it accepts the Visa debit card and I walk back to the bike, relieved that I can buy fuel, pay for the campsite and even get food.
Wind & traffic.
Off the main road onto a deeply pitted track.
Stop for nuts and choc and water hidden behind bike from wind.
Road blocks again. I was warned to expect them - as usual, no redirection, so it was left to satty. Turn left. Perform a u turn.... Obviously trying to take me back to the road block . I ignore her. And again. She's sounding insistent . I ignore her... Eventually her pleas change to 'turn left on untarmacced road'.  Then again and again. I turn left. The road is bad. Big pits and dips. Cattle have obviously been here when it was wet. Deep holes and ruts. A cart as well. Deep cart tracks. The footpegs keep hitting the mud throwing me from side to side.  It's hard work. I stand on the footpegs, but sometimes need to sit to control the brake and push away from the sides.
It's hot. Over 30c. I'm sweating profusely.
Animals in the distance. Goats and sheep. A couple of young shepherd boys shoo them off the track. It gets worse. Rougher and steeper.
I go through a farm entrance. Dogs bite at my heels. I speed on regardless of the surface. Turn a steep rough corner, left leg down to provide support and climb away from them. It's really steep now. The rear tyre is losing grip. The motor is overheating.  I can smell it.
I'm afraid to stop as I might not get under way again. My hands are white from gripping the bars, my face red from the exertion.
Now this is what throws me. I've seen snakes and lizards on the track. They slither away as they sense you coming. But this...I see a large tortoise: yellow and brown, basking in the hot sun. I steer left to miss it and slow down a little. Too much. The tyres are taken by the deep ruts. I kick back with my feet to keep momentum but too late. The bike slams to a halt, the front wheel twisted to the left.  I fall. The bike falls heavily. It's so steep that it ends up almost upside down.
I wait a minute to catch my breath and struggle to heave it upright. There's no way I can get on it at this angle and it wouldn't have the power to get moving again up this climb.
I decide to try to walk it up, using the engine to help. I get about ten metres. It slides back, the wheels slipping on the steep clay surface. It tips again. I'm losing strength. The fuel tank is upside down. I can smell petrol. The engine is hot; a bad combination. I use the last of my energy to get it upright and stand holding it trying to decide what to do.
One more attempt. I start the engine but it's reluctant to start.  It's too hot. I don't want to seize the piston. The problem is solved as it falls once more in a particularly deep rut - about 50cm. It fell heavily. A mirror's gone and the indicator plastic is broken.
I walk on to see what is ahead. It's another kilometre of the same, if not worse. I can't do this. The bike can't take it either. We must go back. Down the hill.
I can't lift the bike. It's upside down and still loaded. I try to spin it as it lies on the mud so that it's facing down hill. It's hard work and I need lots of breaks. Eventually, I get it so the the wheels are pointing towards a deep rut. I shove. It falls in making it more upright. I grip the brake to try to stop it sliding.
We come to a temporary rest. I lie back on the dirt and try to gather my strength.
I need to reduce the weight. I start stripping off the luggage and make a pile beside the track. I'll have to walk back up and retrieve it if I can get the bike back down the hill.
I climb on and start the engine. It's had a little time to cool.
The ride back down to the farm is gut wrenching. There's no way to stop on this incline. I try to combine engine braking with a little rear brake. The front is lethal. Touch it and the front tyre will slip from under you.

I stop before where the dogs are, turn off the engine and set off back up the hill to retrieve the luggage - it's a long climb in sweltering heat.
It takes two journeys to collect it all.
I resolve to stay on hard roads from now on today. I don't want to end up riding in the dark in Albania and I need to get to the campsite some forty miles away.
I turn satty on to 'car mode'... hoping that she won't send me down ridiculous tracks if she thinks I'm a car. Wrong. Within a few kilometres she screams " turn left on unpaved road". It is a river not a road. It's dried up mud but definitely not passable. I ignore her for the twentieth time today.

I do make it to Camping Pa Emer before sunset. I ride through the 'call to prayer' that is heralded from the mosque towers in this region.

The road to the campsite is difficult but not anything like we've experienced today. The bike is sounding and looking damaged. There's a rubbing sound from the back wheel and the back end is dropping badly.
The campsite, at first glance, seems closed. Ropes bar the track and there's evidence of building works. I needn't worry. The host comes down and is the most friendly and welcoming person. He shows me to a pitch right by the sea and invites me up to the restaurant when I'm ready.
I put the tent up and my first thoughts turn to the bike. It's in a sorry state. The pannier straps are torn and ripped. The rear rack is hanging loose in such a position that I can't lift the seat to take the luggage off.
The mirrors are loose, one is missing and it and me are covered in mud.