Albania – The Country Where Strangers Still Say Hello

There’s a moment that catches people off guard when they visit Albania for the first time — especially here in the south. It’s small, almost forgettable. But it sticks.

You’re walking along the promenade in Saranda, maybe with your coffee in hand, the sea glittering on your left, and someone you don’t know — an older man in a flat cap, or a woman sweeping her doorstep — looks up, smiles, and simply says: “Tungjatjeta!” or “Mirëmëngjes!”

That’s it. No sales pitch. No reason. Just a warm hello.

And for many of our clients, especially those coming from bigger European cities where even eye contact feels like a commitment, it’s a kind of culture shock… the good kind.

A Hello That Means More

When people ask me why I love living in Saranda, I could list all the usual reasons:

The views. The climate. The seafood that tastes like it was caught ten minutes ago.

But honestly?

It’s this — the quiet warmth in the everyday things.

It’s the café owner near Rruga Jonianet who remembers how you like your espresso, even if you’ve only been twice. It’s the way the neighbors offer you a fig or a tomato from their garden. The way a simple “hello” isn’t just polite — it’s sincere.

I think that’s part of why the real estate market here is doing so well. People aren’t just buying properties. They’re buying into something deeper — a lifestyle that feels human again.

Not Just a Place – A Feeling

A few months ago, I was showing a couple from the Netherlands around a few Saranda apartments for sale. We’d just walked into a new unit with sweeping views of the Ionian — really spectacular. You could see Corfu clear as day. But what struck them more wasn’t the view.

It was the silence.

The kind you only get in a small town with the sea on your doorstep.

Later that day, we stopped at a roadside market on the way to Ksamil. The woman selling herbs waved them over with a smile and stuffed their bag with a few extra sprigs of wild mint. “Për shëndet!” she said — “For your health!”

They turned to me and said, “We haven’t felt this kind of energy in years.”

That apartment sold a week later.

The Village Mentality (Even in the City)

Saranda isn’t a village anymore — but in many ways, it still acts like one. People greet each other in the streets. The baker knows your name. The butcher might throw in an extra slice of suxhuk just because.

Even in newer neighborhoods like those developing near Mango Beach or the hills above the city, that vibe persists.

I recently spent some time visiting the White Residence Villas in Borsh — you can see them here — and I couldn’t help but notice how the workers and engineers on-site were chatting with locals as if they’d lived there forever. One of the neighbors brought them homemade byrek. That doesn’t happen in Berlin.

A Tangent About Tomatoes (Stick With Me)

Speaking of byrek…

Let me go off-topic for a second.

There’s a little market on Rruga Skënderbeu where I sometimes buy tomatoes in the morning. They’re grown just outside of Lukova. One day, I asked the vendor if they use any chemicals. He looked offended — “Vetëm dielli dhe deti, zotëri.” Only the sun and the sea, sir.

It made me laugh. But also, it made me think.

That same philosophy is present in how people here treat each other — simple, natural, and without hidden ingredients.