A Hamlet in Albania

It's 8.30 am. A glass of Raki in our hand, we toast with our host Tahir next to a smoldering wood stove surrounded by our drying clothes. Nothing surprising so far, except maybe the fact that it's a bit early for this Albanian tradition. We are already back from this mornings' mountain outing. The rain and a dangerous snowpack have thwarted our early ambitions. Playing some great games of dominoes with Flori, the son, and rounds of Raki supplied by Tahir, we spend the day watching the rain turn to snow and our hopes are revived. Our trip starts with an evening arrival and just enough light to see the mountains grow as we advance up the valley of Valbona, situated in the northeast of Albania with the Montenegrin border to the north and Kosovo to the East.

We are completely stunned. The mountains are massive and majestic: steep faces, huge rocky teeth, and magnificent couloirs descending directly into this enclosed valley. It's a relief to finally reach our destination, an isolated farm at the bottom of the valley, situated before the village of Rrogam. The owner explains that the valley is becoming more touristic in the summer as more foreigners come to hike. But in winter, the place is empty, with only the locals and their animals to be found. The next day, we head up the right side of the valley in the hope of reaching one of the summits facing us. We have no preconceived ideas.

What we saw the night before has given us an idea of the great potential of the ski area, but we also know that it takes mountaineering skills to access the mountains. After two and a half hours and only three hundred meters in elevation, we make it out of the trees. Here, we have a better view of the mountain. We opt for a narrow couloir that we had seen from the start. With more than one thousand meters vertical already climbed, we take off our skins and attack – skis on our backs, straight up the couloir. The pitch is steep, around 45 degrees, but we can kick good toeholds into the snow, not needing crampons or ice axes. We had set out five hours earlier and now the bad weather is closing in quickly.

We need to return to the valley for lunch, which means skiing down the 1,500 meters we had just climbed. But the snow doesn't have any grip. It's hard as a mirror, steep, narrow, and the terrain is V-shaped. Despite the preference for steep slopes expressed by some amongst us, the skiing is far from easy. Emergency services are a long way from here, with the nearest doctor at the entrance to the valley and nobody who would be able to reach us on skis. We wouldn't take any risks. After a real feast and some time-out at the farm, we set off again on skis towards our next stop.

The Valbona mountains lack shelters or mountain huts at altitude, so once again we'll be staying with the locals. 200 meters higher and a few kilometers further, we find ourselves at the entrance to a small valley and a tiny hamlet. It's raining. Welcome to Kukaj – consisting of three houses, and inhabited by two families. Apparently, Tahir wasn't prepared for our arrival, and he's at a bit of a loss, just like us. The situation is completely nuts, we can't understand each other as we have no common language. Tahir and his family only speak Albanian, and the only words we manage to jabber in his language are "Hello", "Goodbye", and "Thanks". So here we are, back in our grandparents' past in deepest rural Albania.

Their hamlet is located at an altitude of 1,150 meters and it's under snow until April. The nearest village is Valbona, which is several kilometers lower, down the valley. They live with their animals: cows, horses, and chickens. Life in this snow-filled place in the middle of nowhere appears difficult and complicated to us over-equipped westerners. Despite everything, Tahir and his family live simply and find great joy in life. Sharing their daily routine is easy, genuine and lively, despite the language barrier. As soon as the weather gets better, the geographic position of Kukaj allows us to go touring the north side of the valley in the direction of Montenegro. We are even able to make a circuit on the gentler slopes around the border.

The view from this pass to the summits and the couloir skied several days before is stunning, as is the view of this high valley of Montenegro where the mountains are just as majestic, steep and savage as their Albanian neighbors. After several illegal powder turns (we don't have permission), we climb back up to the second pass to fall back into Albania and to Tahir's farm. The viewpoint at the border allowed us to make plans for the next days and gave us a good look at the fantastic couloirs at the end of the valley of Kukaj. It's probably the most beautiful spot we could find: a labyrinth of great looking steep couloirs – but watch out: they don't all connect up.

We've seen the rain turn into snow, and now it's with glorious sunshine and big grins on our faces that we head out on the last part of our trip. This mountain playground is amazing, but the snow conditions take us by surprise, and we find ourselves in unknown territory. An unfamiliar sort of snow crystals and sections of ice on the less exposed slopes lead us to be prudent and down-plan to less adventurous projects. Despite that, we are far from disappointed, and we devour with the greatest pleasure each moment this fabulous mountain offers us with face shots of powder amongst the couloirs of Kukaj.

A trip to be remembered both for the discovery of a new mountain range with huge potential and the generosity of the local people in a country where the future still waits to be written. Both as freeriders and as travelers, this journey has branded us and we won't forget.