Albanian Airlines

Trip Report

Albanian Airlines (March 1994)

A woman I was dating convinced me to meet her in Italy for the weekend. Back then, I was living in Frankfurt. She had planned a romantic weekend in the Italian city Bologna, a city I had never visited. Since the flight from Frankfurt to Bologna was only 90 minutes, I readily agreed. We had a magical time. I enjoyed the Piazza Maggiore, with San Petronio Basilica, and the food was wonderful. On Sunday morning, we decided to have Breakfast before heading to the airport. We had a great meal, but the service was slow. I looked at my watch became nervous. Since she was going to Florence, and there were plenty of trains, she had more time. Eventually the check arrived, I paid, kissed her goodbye, and hailed a taxi. Then things went wrong. The traffic was horrible. There was an accident on the road to the airport, and we were stuck for 30 minutes without moving. By the time I arrived at the airport, it was too late. I had missed my original flight from Bologna to Frankfurt. I needed to get home. The next day I was to fly to Canada for work. I needed to get home pack and prepare for my trip. At the airport, I explained to the ticket agent my predicament. At first, they suggested I take the train (that would have been 8 hours). They did offer me a few other options, including flying to Rome or Florence. The problem was the I wouldn’t arrive at home until late. I couldn’t speak a word of Italian, but I pleaded with them to find me a better option. I watched as the ticket agents discussed, my dilemma. After several minutes they came back to me with an unusual option. I could only make out a little of what they were saying. Something to the effect of, “In 20 minutes, there was flight leaving for Tirana. It would take just over an hour, then I would connect to another flight that would leave 30 minutes later, and in two hours I would arrive in Frankfurt”. I thought about it, and the few options I had, this seemed like the best option. And I would still be back at a decent hour. I agreed and they re-issued me a ticket.

While I was running to catch the plane, I was trying to figure out where in Italy was Tirana. I hadn’t really heard of it, but there are so many cities I thought to myself. When I arrived at the gate slightly out of breath. I looked up and saw the sign “Albanian Airlines”. “This didn’t make any sense” I thought. I looked around. There weren’t many people. A few tough looking guys in leather jackets smoking a cigarette before getting on board. I contemplated this. Despite not realizing that I would have to fly to Albania, I rationalized this in my mind. “It’s basically just the same as going to another city in Europe. What’s the harm” I thought. I walked up to the agent, she looked at me and said, “Transit. Si?” “Si si” I responded. She shrugged her shoulders, and I boarded the aircraft.

The plane, a Russian built Tupolev, looked like it had seen better days. I'm pretty sure it was older than my grandparents and had more scratches than a used car. Some seats looked like they were covered in some outdated fabric. The cabin was strictly functional. No luxury whatsoever. It did feel roomy, but that’s because it didn’t have overhead bins.

The legroom varied from row to row. I don’t know why. My row had very little leg room.

Once we were up in the air, I could smell the lovely scent of cheap eastern European tobacco. Yes, all around me, people were smoking. The flight attendants seemed rather unhappy. None of them smiled the entire time. And when I asked for a drink, they acted like I was asking for a kidney transplant. Since it was a short flight, they didn’t serve food.

The worst part came when I arrived in Tirana. The lovely ticket agents at the Bologna airport got the flight time wrong. I missed my flight to Frankfurt. I began to get very anxious. Eventually they got me a flight to Zurich, departing almost three hours later. I didn’t arrive in Frankfurt until 11:45 pm. Fortunately, just enough time to pack and return to the airport.

D. Zimmer

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