We cycle into Albania with butterflies in our stomachs. It is, after all, Albania – home to a 40-year dictatorship that, until recently, left it as closed off from the world as North Korea is today. It is the wild frontier between East and West.

My companions were safely in first class. I, on the other hand, had “Waiting List” ticket #482 in my sweaty palm and a clammy nervousness was spreading over me like a fever.