Engines, Echoes, and Albania’s Layers

Daily miles: 30.9 miles | Total miles: 12,502.18

6:00 a.m. Up. Ready.

By 7:00 a.m., I was back on the highway.

There’s something about running through Albania that makes me reflect on its history. I only know small fragments of it — post-communist, post-war, decades of isolation — and yet I feel it. Not in an obvious way. Not in monuments or headlines. But in the texture of the roads, in the buildings, in the rhythm of daily life.

I love that every place is shaped by its historical context. Sometimes we forget that. The modern world, with its media outlets and universal branding, can make everything look similar — standardized, global, interchangeable. But places and people have only recently begun blending in that way. The deeper layers are still there.

It would be wonderful to sit down with an elderly person here and simply ask about their life. Their hopes. Their memories. Their idea of the future. I think that in almost every country I run through. Maybe one day, that is exactly what I will do.

After a few miles, a truck driver approached me, curious about what I’m doing. We had a short exchange. I always enjoy connecting with mechanics and truck drivers. Maybe because today’s road was lined with garages — so many of them. Cars waiting for repair. Others resting as spare parts. Vehicles that probably aren’t allowed on Swiss roads anymore seem to find their final chapter here in a junkyard.

And so, as I ran past engine after engine, memory after memory came back.

My time as a mechanic.

I have always loved people. Even when I worked as a car mechanic, what mattered most to me were the people around me. The diversity. The expertise. The shared problem-solving. The atmosphere of helping one another.

In my last years at the workshop, I worked alongside people from Turkey, Greece, Albania, Kosovo, Serbia, Croatia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Montenegro, Macedonia, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Romania, Iraq. I learned something from each of them. But more than that, I loved how we got along — how different backgrounds blended into one functioning team.

Today, seeing so many men repairing cars along the roadside, I felt deeply aware of how much those years shaped me. How certain people and certain atmospheres leave permanent marks. I felt thankful — for the diversity, for the lessons, for the experiences this world has already offered me.

In my life, I’ve often just followed my heart — stepping into atmospheres completely different from what I knew before. And each time, I grew.

Back to the run.

Nothing spectacular in a dramatic sense. But cool people along the way. Eric, who works at a burger stand, gave me a drink for free. He recommended a Red Bull — so I thought I’d have one again to truly feel the vibe of flying through Albania. Later, a kind lady in a grocery store. Along the road, quite a few men waved, gave me a thumbs-up, or simply smiled.

These small gestures carry me more than people might realize.

About a mile before the hotel, it started to drizzle. Just enough to remind me that I was still outside, still exposed, still moving.

At check-in, I met Renato — a young man who wants to become a mechanic.

The circle closed.

Now I’m in my room. A hot instant coffee beside me. Soon I’ll have couscous, beans, oranges, an apple, and yogurt. Simple. Sufficient.

That’s it for today. Thank you for checking in. Today took me back a little.

See you tomorrow, Andrea