A Slow Day in Vlorë, Albania

My first week in Vlorë felt strange. Not because the place was difficult, but because I kept waiting for the rush that never came. No commute. No packed schedule. Just the sea, the sun, and hours that finally belonged to me.

It took a few days to stop feeling guilty about that. Here's what a slow day looked like once I stopped fighting it.

The Early Hours: Productivity or Peace

Sometimes my day started with a little work on passion projects — the time I had the most mental energy. My internet speed held up well, so I spent early mornings video editing or creating branding. There was something deeply satisfying about being creative before the world woke up.

Often though the laptop stayed closed, to catch the best part of the light outdoors at sunrise or sunset. Some days, I grabbed my camera and found my flow as a photographer.

I loved the sunrise stroll along the Lungomare to grab some early morning Vitamin D. The sun popped up from behind the hills, streaming down the promenade. The sea changed colour depending on the light: blue, green, silver, like moods.

Some days, I swapped the walk for a bike ride. Vlorë has a dedicated bike lane running all the way through, making for a safe, flat route from the town centre bus terminal down the Lungomare past the tunnel. You can push further south to enjoy the Albanian Riviera.

But today? Today is about calm water. I take my shoes off for a paddle walk along the shore. Even in October, it is warm enough for shorts, and with the summer sunbeds packed away, the Lungomare beaches are beautifully clear.

Mid-Morning: The Art of Observation

After the walk, I stopped at a seafront café. No need to rush coffee. This was about slowing down and remembering what time feels like when you aren't chasing it.

I sipped a strong coffee (English tea drinkers, be warned: the coffee culture here is dominant and robust) and simply watched the waves and the passersby. A pause that set the tone for the rest of the day.

Here's the honest part: the first few times I sat there, I felt restless. My mind kept cycling through tasks that no longer existed. Decades of conditioning to constant busyness don't switch off overnight. I had to learn to sit still again, to let the minutes pass without filling them. It took at least a week before that restlessness faded.

Midday: Eating Well

One of the most striking differences I found living here was the quality of fresh produce for the price. The cost was a fraction of what I would pay for this quality in the UK. It made me realise that a richer life abroad isn't a step down — it can be a step up in quality.

Vlorë felt more geared up than places like Thailand for cooking at home because my apartment had a great kitchen.

I cooked lunch using ingredients sourced earlier in the week. A large fresh fish from the local fishmonger, paired with fresh produce from the market. I served it alongside fresh olives and a homemade tzatziki with extra garlic. A simple meal, but the quality of the produce here was excellent. It encouraged me to eat healthier — though resisting the bakeries took willpower.

Afternoon: Changing Perspectives

Later in the afternoon, I headed out to the city centre. A walkable city, flat and easy to navigate.

On my way, I made a pitstop at my favourite café, INI - A Place To Be. In the north part, stylish and quirky with a brilliant selection of drinks. Surprisingly good value considering its more upmarket appearance. The perfect waypoint before my walk up the hill.

I enjoyed getting high above the city for a fresh perspective, so I headed up to Kuzum Baba.

The climb involves about 240 winding stone steps. The path was poorly maintained, with erosion and broken sections. In several places, I needed a tiny detour to reach the top.

It got the heart rate up, but the reward was a panoramic view of the city skyline and the bay where the Adriatic and Ionian seas meet. I usually stopped at the restaurant at the summit — not for a meal, but just for a drink to take in the view.

This would be a fantastic place for sunset but as I'm not confident on the journey down in the dark, I seek an alternative.

Sunset: The Daily Ritual

Sunset relaxing seemed to be the main pastime for everyone here. Locals know how to unwind, often found with their legs dangling over the sea edge of the promenade or simply fishing.

Most evenings, like the locals, I headed down the large spacious part of the Lungomare to watch the sun dip below the horizon beyond the port.

If I haven't quite hit my step count for the day, I skip the Lungomare and walk up the Plazhi i Vjeter (Old Beach). It's a wider, sandy stretch with a rougher, wilder feel. Walking north past the hotels, looking out towards Sazan Island, offered my favourite sunset view in the city. As long as I remembered the mosquito spray.

Evening: Community

As the sun dipped, the city lights flicked on, but Vlorë remained relatively quiet. This isn't a place for wild nightclubs. The evening was for connection.

I headed to Beer House 24, a spot I found to mix with the international community. I mostly met Americans, but also other expats who have made the move. We shared stories and some laughs. A reminder that while you might be seeking solitude, you don't have to be on your own.

On quieter nights, I headed home to stream a film.

The Takeaway

This day didn't cost a fortune. It didn't require complex planning. It was built on sunshine, fresh food, movement, and conversation.

For those of us planning our next chapter, Vlorë teaches us that life moves in cycles. It's never too late to choose a cycle that prioritises your health and your joy. This is what an untethered day can look like: unhurried, intentional, and entirely yours.

Taylor