I am feeling poetic today. It is difficult to get a glimpse of the mountains through the high buildings of central Tirana, but I can seem to smell then. There is sausage at every corner and elderly men with the same facial expression and heavy leather coats. I not yet know a lot, know nothing about the place I find myself in really, but I can laugh at the overflow of Italian restaurants and French cafés full of smoking Albanians, and I can smell the mountains in the sun I not yet know a single word, know not hello and goodbye, thank you, hi, know not how to say one or two, but I enjoy the techno music in the airport taxi and on the first floor of my apartment. I love the palms rising next to pine trees and the fruit stands with ripe pomegranates.