Valbonë Valley: Among the Accursed Mountains
We stayed two nights at Valbonë Relax, a quiet guesthouse beside the Lumi i Valbonës. Our room was right next to the river, with a small balcony that looked out over the water. At night, we slept to the sound of the current; in the morning, the first light caught the peaks above the valley. From here, we drove to the start of the Kukaj trail, following the road deeper into the mountains.
Our guide met us at the start of the Kukaj trail. The path began gently, a wide stretch of small rocks and loose gravel. After a few minutes, he told us we were walking on a dry riverbed, one that once carried meltwater down from the mountains. It felt strange to imagine the river that used to rush through there, now silent beneath our feet.
The Kukaj trail in Valbonë Valley starts along a seasonal stream bed, which is dry or nearly dry in summer but carries meltwater and rain runoff in winter and spring. It’s one of several small tributaries that feed the Lumi i Valbonës.
As we crossed the riverbed, the view opened to the Accursed Mountains, known locally as Bjeshkët e Nemuna, their jagged peaks filling the horizon. The tallest peak in sight was Maja e Rosit, standing like a wall above the valley.
From the riverbed, the trail began to climb. The path wound through patches of grass and loose stone, each turn revealing a wider view of the valley below. The higher we went, the more the peaks unfolded around us, layer upon layer of ridges and light. The views were breathtaking, the kind that made you stop even when your legs wanted to keep moving.
Behind us, the ridges stretched toward the Theth–Valbonë pass, the same mountains that link the two valleys. Along the way, we passed wildflowers we’d never seen before, bright against the rocky path. A shepherd moved slowly across the slope, his sheep spread like white dots over the grass. The only sounds were bells, wind, and the river somewhere far below.
I lost count of how many times I stopped to take photos. Every turn showed another ridge, another sweep of the valley I couldn’t resist capturing. I never expected this of Albania. The landscape was as beautiful as Switzerland, but wilder, more raw. There were no polished viewpoints or fences here, just open mountains and silence.
Most of the trail had no shade, and walking in the summer was tougher than I expected. The sun pressed down hard, the stones hot underfoot, but the views kept me going. We looped back on a different path, slower now, stopping at one of the guesthouses we’d passed earlier. They kept their drinks cool in a trough made from a hollowed log, cold water running through it from the stream. We sat in the shade, sipping cold cola and eating the sandwiches packed by our hotel. The mountains stood quiet around us, the kind of silence that stays with you long after you leave.
We headed back to where we’d set off. The minibus picked us up and dropped us at Valbonë Relax; two nights of fresh air and mountain boots had earned us a proper rest.
In the afternoon, our tour leader told us he was taking us to Hotel Fusha e Gjesë, because it “has a nice views of the Accursed Mountains.”
We climbed into the vehicle again and drove across the valley to the hotel. From the terrace, we looked out across scattered pine trees and the grey peaks of the Accursed Mountains rising beyond. The light was soft now, the air calm after a day of exertion. It felt like a reward just to stand there, drink in hand, mountain on full display.
We sat with our drinks and enjoyed the mountain view. Around the garden, little manmade streams ran through the grounds, with fish darting in the clear water. The kids were splashing about, but the men were even more entertained, trying to catch the fish with their bare hands. Later, we returned to our hotel for dinner and a few more drinks, soaking in our last night in Valbonë Valley. The next day, we would be crossing into Kosovo.
Morning came quiet over the valley. Mist hung low along the river, the water catching the pale light. We packed our bags and said goodbye to Valbonë Relax, the sound of the river still in our ears. The road ahead would take us out of Albania and across the border into Kosovo, climbing once more through the folds of the Accursed Mountains.
I was glad to have seen this part of Albania before it is overrun by tourists. There’s a purity to Valbonë, a sense that the land still belongs to itself — wild, unhurried, and unbothered by the world beyond its peaks.
It felt strange to leave a place that still seemed half-wild, where mountains ruled the horizon and time slowed to the rhythm of footsteps and streams. But that’s how it is on the road, you move on, carrying the silence and the peaks with you.
