Beyond the Coast: The Albania Tourists Don’t See – and Might Not Want to Share

If you’ve spent any time on Instagram lately searching for #AlbanianRiviera, you’ve probably seen what everyone else sees—crystal water, white villas, stylish rooftops, and perfect seaview apartments with a glass of wine on the balcony. 

And don’t get me wrong—those places are real. I help people buy them every week. One of our clients just moved into White Residence and is already booking it solid for the summer season. 

But I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the version of Albania that doesn’t show up on those feeds. The part that lives quietly, far from the beach clubs and resort developments. The version that’s slower, more rugged, and honestly… deeper. 

So let’s step off the main road for a bit. Past the beachfront property. Past the apartments in Ksamil. Past the infinity pools. I want to take you somewhere else. 

The Mountains Are Still Watching 

Last month I drove up to the village of Nivicë—just to clear my head, honestly. It’s up in the Kurvelesh region, a place most tourists will never go unless someone like me convinces them to. The road twists and climbs past terraced olive groves and abandoned stone homes, some of them still standing with roofs from 1930s. 

But when you get there—when you stand on that ridge and look down at the valley—there’s something grounding about it. The mountains feel like they’ve been watching everything, quietly, while the rest of the country rushes ahead. 

I met an old couple drying mountain tea on their porch. They’d lived there their whole life. Their daughter had moved to Tirana, but they never left. They asked me if I wanted some bread. Just… bread. No Instagram moment. No filtered sunset. Just warm bread, a bit of gjizë, and silence. 

Hidden Lakes and Places Without Names 

A lot of people ask me what’s still left to discover in Albania. 

The answer? Pretty much everything that’s not already on Booking.com. 

There’s a quiet beauty in the places that haven’t been written about yet. Lakes that don’t appear on Google Maps. Trails that were once goat paths, now half-swallowed by wild herbs and time. One of my favorite spots—though I almost don’t want to mention it—is a small lake hidden in the hills between Delvinë and Finiq. Locals just call it “liqeni pas kodrës.” The lake behind the hill. 

You reach it after a rough drive, followed by a ten-minute walk through fig trees and forgotten stone walls. No road signs. No cafes. Just still water, the sound of dragonflies, and maybe a heron if you’re lucky. 

I took a client there once—someone who had come down from northern Europe looking for a beachfront property in Ksamil. But after we visited the usual listings, I offered to show them “a place I’d never sell.” We sat by the water, not talking much, just listening. They later told me it was the best part of their trip. 

And that’s the irony, really. The moments that make people fall in love with Albania aren’t always the ones they came looking for. 

 

Villages That Whisper, Not Shout

Some villages in the south haven’t changed much in decades—and that’s part of their charm.

Take the village of Pilur, above Himara. It’s carved into the mountainside, with slate-roofed homes and narrow alleys that smell like oregano in summer. You won’t find flashy renovations or boutique hotels. But you’ll find something else: people who know your name after five minutes. Olive oil made in backyard presses. A rhythm to life that doesn’t care about WiFi speeds or guest reviews.

In a way, these places feel like they’re holding onto something the coast is starting to lose.

Don’t get me wrong—I love Saranda. I still believe it offers the best value on the entire Mediterranean coast. You can still find Saranda apartments for sale with incredible sea views, modern finishes, and walking distance to everything. There are even villas—like this one in Borsh—that offer privacy, nature, and strong rental potential in one package.

But I also believe in balance. And these inland communities? They’re the counterweight to the rush of development along the water.

A Different Kind of Luxury

When people think of luxury, they often imagine pools, marble floors, smart home systems. But here in the south of Albania, sometimes luxury is… quiet.

It’s having a neighbor who brings you eggs without asking. It’s drinking mountain spring water straight from the source. It’s a night sky so dark you can actually see the Milky Way—something that makes most city-dwellers stop mid-sentence.

And from a real estate perspective, that’s the direction many thoughtful buyers are starting to look. Sure, seaview apartments and beachfront property are still hot. And we list plenty of those. But more people are asking about plots of land in the hills. Renovation projects in traditional villages. Properties that aren’t just investments—but escape plans.

Final Thought

I’ve lived in Saranda for years. I’ve watched it grow from a quiet coastal town into one of the most talked-about destinations in the Balkans. I’ve seen prices rise, buildings go up, and the word “Albania” move from a question mark in people’s minds to a highlight of their travels.

But for every glossy photo of the Riviera, there’s a path that leads somewhere quieter. Somewhere real. And if you take that path—whether it’s up to a forgotten village or around a bend to a hidden lake—you’ll see why so many of us fell in love with this country before it went viral.

And maybe, just maybe, you’ll keep that place to yourself.

Not out of selfishness, but respect.

Because some parts of Albania aren’t meant to be posted.

They’re meant to be felt.

(The photo on this blog is captured on Blue Eye, Albania)