IN this World Cup nostalgia blog, I reflect on how a football trip to the mystery land of Albania brought the worst night of my life. 

Let me take you back to May 1993 when I was a reporter for the Capital Gold radio station in London. I set off for Albania’s largest city Tirana forewarned of extremely primitive conditions. 

So I brought my own mini-survival kit: bottled drinking water, biscuits, chocolate and plenty of toilet roll. Enough to last for the two days in Albania while I covered a World Cup Qualifying match against the Republic of Ireland. 

But nothing could have prepared me for the bizarre spectacle that unfolded. It was so far-fetched that you wouldn’t get any odds for a similar sequence of events on sports betting.

Firstly, my plane landing was awfully scary. The single runway at Tirana Airport consisted of hundreds of deep potholes and it was strewn with rubbish including old bed frames, pots and pans plus many other abandoned items. So the plane was bouncing all over the place when we touched down.

Then inside the rudimentary arrivals building, an Irish journalist was told in no uncertain terms that he would have to shave his beard off in the toilets otherwise he wouldn’t be allowed into the country. Apparently, facial hair was illegal in Albania back then.

The taxi ride to my hotel was also a terrifying adventure. There were no road markings anywhere in Albania and seemingly no equivalent of the Highway Code. So vehicles were driving anywhere they wanted – swerving to the left and the right of the street to narrowly avoid other cars. 

Anyway, I made it to the Hotel Tirana in one piece and initial impressions were favourable. Smartly dressed businessmen exchanged snappy handshakes in the modern foyer, the restaurant was spotless and the Irish national team were staying there in the lap of luxury. It seemed too good to be true.

But my dramas began at the front desk.

“Mr Incenzo?” said the receptionist. “Oh yes, I’m terribly sorry sir but this hotel is full. So we have booked you in at another hotel just down the road.”

They arranged a courtesy taxi to take me to the other building (which will remain nameless). It looked derelict from the outside with all the windows boarded up using assorted pieces of wood and cardboard.

Nevertheless, I checked in and was told that my room was on the fifth floor.

Unfortunately, the elevator was out of action. So I had to hump my suitcase and hand luggage up five flights of stairs in 85 degrees of evening humidity.

I arrived at my room breathless and exhausted. The first thing I noticed was that the shower was permanently switched on and was flooding on to the floor. I spent half an hour trying to rectify the glitch but to no avail.

Things got worse. The taps on the sink wouldn’t work, the main light was out of action, the toilet wouldn’t flush and a starlight window wouldn’t close – allowing an exotic variety of winged insects easy access to my bedroom.

“Well, this is Albania,” I said to myself, trying to make the best of a bad lot.

So I paddled through the murky water on the floor, brushed my teeth with my bottled water and got undressed for bed.

“At least I’m only here for two nights,” I thought, trying to savour the cultural experience.

But as I walked back across the room, I was greeted by a terrifying sight…a twelve inch long, black furry rat was sitting on its haunches beside my bed, staring me straight in the eye.

I felt my stomach wrench upwards and I let out a reflex cry of alarm. This startled the rat and it began to scurry around the room in concentric circles. I scurried out the door.

Down in the foyer, I complained to the hotel manager about my uninvited room guest. But to no avail.

“That’s very nice for you sir,” he grinned smugly. “Rats are really friendly. I wish I had one down here to keep me company.”

I urged him to take me seriously and demanded to be switched to another room.

“That’s not possible,” he smirked. “The hotel is full.”

I told him I would call the police but he chuckled again because the telephones were out of order. I insisted that I would find the police station but he just kept laughing in my face.

Infuriated, I stormed out on to the street and luckily spotted a passing police van. I called for help and it screeched to a halt. Unfortunately the driver couldn’t speak a word of English.

He decided to take me to the local cop shop, where I was I was surrounded by inquisitive Albanian police. It was past midnight and I was at the end of my tether. I sat there for two hours before they could find anyone who could speak English.

Finally, I managed to make myself understood. The officer in charge subsequently sent me back to my hotel accompanied by a van load of hefty riot police who yielded sturdy truncheons and lethal pistols.

I arrived back in the foyer elated with my impressive entourage. And the hotel manager changed his tune dramatically.

His flippant fit of chuckles gave way to a patronising flood of apologies. But there was still nothing he could do – the hotel was full and the rat was not his problem.

The policemen talked amongst themselves before pointing to the stairs. They gestured to me that they were prepared to kill the rat.

So it was up to the fifth floor again. I was accompanied by this meaty posse of musclemen, who limbered up by practising Kung Fu and Karate kicks as we turned the corners on the stairs.

When we reached my room, everything was quiet. The policemen seemed to fill the space with their stature and presence.

And there was no sign of the rat. Had I imagined it? Had I caused all that fuss for nothing?

The largest policeman – who was nearly seven feet tall – lifted up the bed with one hand. Without warning, the rat came charging out and started to dance around the room.

Like a scene from the Keystone Kops, the policemen lunged forward en masse with their truncheons. But the rodent managed to escape through a huge hole in the skirting board.

An amazing scenario followed. The coppers turned and proceeded to demolish the wardrobe with a series of frenetic Karate kicks. Then they rammed this timber into the skirting board to block the cavity.

Triumphantly, they turned to me like actors taking their curtain call. The predicament had been resolved but I was so wound up that I didn’t get any sleep that night.

For the record, Ireland beat Albania 2-1 which backed up odds offered on football betting.


*Credit for all of the photos in this article belongs to AP Photo*

 

FIRST PUBLISHED: 30th November 2022

Tony is an experienced football broadcaster who has worked for Clubcall, Capital Gold, IRN Sport, talkSPORT Radio and Sky TV. 

His devotion to Queens Park Rangers saw him reach 50 years without missing a home game in April 2023.

Tony is also a Non-League football expert having visited more than 2,500 different football grounds in his matchday groundhopping.

You can follow Tony on Twitter at @TonyIncenzo.