The city of a thousand windows. Few places can boast a nickname quite as alluring as UNESCO-recognised Berat. Situated just 120 kilometres south of Albania’s capital city, Tirana, it entices visitors from all over the world with its alluring Ottoman architecture and rich history.
There has been a settlement in Berat for over two millennia. Records show a city existing on the site of Berat as far back as the 3rd or 4th century BC, when a Macedonian general named Antipater founded a town in his name.
Antipatreia changed hands – and name – several times over the next thousand years. Eventually, having been conquered and subsequently lost by the Roman, Byzantine and Bulgarian empires, Berat became a part of the Ottoman Empire in 1417.
Berat’s most iconic feature is its Ottoman old town. On both sides of the river Osum, hundreds of stone houses cling to the steep sides of the hills that tower over the city. These buildings date back to the 18th and 19th centuries and were built in styles typical of the time. The walls of each dwelling are painted a dazzling white, whilst the rooftops’ ceramic tiles glow with a distinctive pale orange hue.
The windows of the old town have earned Berat its nickname. Every wall of every house is covered in large wooden frames filled with great slabs of glass. With the houses seemingly piled on top of each other, each window gazes prominently across the valley. It is a sight unlike any other, a unique quirk of architecture and geography.
Today, Berat is home to a little over 60,000 people. Some still live among the narrow, winding streets of the famous old town. Many more live in the areas of Berat that have expanded out beyond the historic centre, with neighbours stretching along the valley and into neighbouring hillsides. We were excited to see what life is like among the windows of ancient Berat.
Enduring the bus from Tirana to Berat
It was a swelteringly hot day when we made our journey south to Berat. Our trip to Albania had begun with two days in the beautiful mountain village of Theth. With a heavy heart, we waved goodbye to the solitude of the Albanian Alps and made our way to Tirana on the early bus from Shkoder.
We pressed our faces against the window of the shuddering coach, pretending that we were anywhere but crammed onto this sweaty tin can at rush hour. The mercury had already passed twenty degrees celsius, and it wasn’t yet 9am.
Tirana’s main bus station was a throbbing hive of activity when we stumbled out of the bus, shielding our eyes against the blinding morning sun. Taxi drivers yelled at the passing hordes, who paid them scant attention. The voices of street sellers joined the cacophony of shouting. All manner of goods were on sale, from the daily newspaper to plastic children’s toys.
Dozens upon dozens of buses of all shapes and sizes lined the vast perimeter of the bus station. Each had a sign in the window advertising a litany of intriguing destinations. We lowered our gaze and weaved among the crowds as we scanned the windows for the ‘Berat’ sign.
Halfway down the row of buses, we spotted it. A mid-sized coach, seating perhaps 30 passengers, stood waiting for us. The driver confirmed the destination, flung our rucksacks unceremonially into the hold, and waved us on board.
The journey to Berat was uneventful. The pale-red, sun-stained, moth-bitten curtains were drawn, blocking the view and casting a morose terracotta light across the coach’s interior. It didn’t take long for the dusty streets of Tirana to disappear into the distance as we made our way out of town.
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Navigating our way from Berat bus station to Berat’s old town
The journey from Tirana to Berat by bus took just over two and a half hours. Time seemed to have ground to a halt, but eventually, we creaked around the corner into Berat bus station. The small forecourt was empty, save for a small gaggle of taxi drivers who greeted us with booming voices. The taxi services were promptly secured by the first groups to disembark the bus, and we were left to finish our journey into central Berat using the local bus network.
We exited the bus station and returned to the main road, heading for a small bus stop next to a half-finished house. The sun was beating down, forcing us to try and shelter as best we could in the shade of a lifeless tree. Mercifully, we had to wait just ten minutes until we saw a rusty bus making its way toward us. The doors screeched open, and we clambered on board.
The bus bounced along, emphasising every bump and pothole in the road. Before too long, we caught our first glimpse of Berat’s famous hotchpotch of Ottoman-era houses. A thousand windows stared straight at us as we thanked the driver and piled off the bus.
Our wonderful hosts at Timo’s Guest House
We had arrived in the early afternoon, with the full fury of the sun baking the dusty streets. It was a desperately hot day to be walking around Berat with our rucksacks. Temperatures upwards of 35 degrees celsius were forecast, and we instantly found ourselves dripping with sweat as we began the quest to find our guesthouse.
We were staying at Timo’s Guest House, run by a charming couple – George and Maria – who have opened up a room in their family home to host guests. The house is nestled on the edge of the old town, just a sixty-second walk from the banks of the River Osum that dissects the two Ottoman neighbourhoods of Gorica and Mangalem . Despite its proximity to the main road that runs alongside the river, it feels comfortably tucked away, hidden among the maze of narrow alleys.
We were utterly enchanted by the welcome we received at Timo’s. After ringing the doorbell, we heard a friendly shout from the terrace above. George grinned and waved, and within a matter of seconds, we were being ushered in by Maria.
A warm welcome at Timo’s Guest House
Colossal stone slabs covered the floor and walls of the entrance hall. These slabs entirely protected the space from the fiery sun, and it felt like we had wandered into an air-conditioned suite—a blissful start.
Maria invited us to join her and George on their terrace. This remarkable space offers the most sublime views across the river to the Gorica neighbourhood. We sat in the shade, enjoying the cooling effects of a gentle breeze that rolled down from the hills above.
Maria and George’s hospitality was exceptional. They offered us a generous helping of fruits and preserves – produce from their extensive gardens, which rise above the house in several steep layers. We enjoyed our snacks with homemade schnapps and raki whilst learning more about our hosts.
The house belonged to George’s father – Timo – hence the name. It retains the character of a cosy family home, and we were made to feel extremely welcome indeed.
Enjoy a sublime breakfast at Timo’s Guest House
We rarely dwell too much on the quality of breakfasts from our travels – we often grab a quick snack or a small meal from a local cafe. However, the breakfast at Timo’s is reason enough to return to Berat.
We emerged after a restful sleep to the sound of sizzling pans and bubbling kettles. Maria beckoned us through the kitchen to the terrace, where a table had been laid with what can only be described as a feast.
Every inch of the table was covered in plates, bowls and glasses. Everywhere we looked, there were enticing homemade dishes – dolma, yoghurts, fresh fruit, pancakes. Maria emerged after a few minutes with a frying pan of perfectly cooked omelette and returned a short while later with a plate piled high with crispy sausages.
We could scarcely move by the time we had finished. All the while, that fantastic view of Gorica stretched out below us. Breakfasts do not come much better than this.
Exploring the narrow streets of the old town
We had just under 24 hours to explore Berat before returning to Tirana. Having escaped the worst of the afternoon heat and enjoyed the warm hospitality of our Maria and George, we set off to wander through the city.
Walking along dusty thoroughfares on a hot summer’s day can be challenging. However, the quest to explore the winding, narrow streets of Berat’s old town was made all the more demanding thanks to the city’s insistence on digging up every other road.
Turn any corner, and there was a decent chance that the street ahead would have disappeared in favour of a huge ditch. At the bottom of these ditched invariably crouched a handful of sweaty, dusty workers chipping away frantically at the soft grey rock.
Our British politeness shone through in our first dozen-or-so encounters with these roadblocks. We politely smiled at the workers before sheepishly retracing our steps and trying to find another route. This game of cat and mouse with the roadworks got very dull very quickly. Before too long, and having witnessed the nonchalance with which Berat locals were strolling straight through the building sites, we decided to take the direct route.
Ducking and weaving, occasionally teetering on the edge of a ditch, we slowly navigated the alleys. A steady stream of people passed us as we progressed through the town. We came across the occasional group of fellow tourists, but most were locals going about their business.
Eventually, we reached the edge of the old town and spotted a sign for Berat Castle. The sign pointed us up a steep road, and we began to climb. Before too long, we ascended above the old town’s rooftops and could see the castle’s walls appear on our left.
A very sweaty hike up to Berat Castle
Somewhat against our better judgement, we decided to make use of a shortcut to Berat castle, which we had spotted on Google Maps. A path of broken stones, overgrown with weeds and wildflowers, zig-zagged up to a small door in the castle walls. It was a steep, hot climb, and we’re somewhat doubtful that it saved much time. Still, we squeezed through the door and successfully arrived in the grounds of the castle complex.
Berat Castle is a sprawling mix of houses, churches, shops and restaurants, all clumped together inside the protective grip of impressively strong walls. The castle is also known as the ‘Citadel of Berat’ or ‘Castle Quarter’, which more accurately describes the reality of this fortress above the city.
The footprint of Berat Castle today dates back to the 13th century, although its history stretches back to the Roman Empire. It occupies a strong strategic position high above the Osum river, protected on its northern side by vast cliffs. The steepness of the north flank means that most people will enter and exit Berat Castle using the main southern gate.
We entered just down the road from this southern entrance, immediately finding a small cafe with a perfect view over the valley below. After refuelling with a much-needed cold drink, we set off to explore the rest of the castle.
Discovering the scale of the Berat Castle Complex
The size of Berat Castle is impressive. Wandering its cobbled streets, it feels like you are in a small town. Indeed, at the height of its power, there were roughly 20 churches inside the castle walls, as well as a mosque.
A small number of these churches survive today. Of these, the Holy Trinity Church of Lavdar is perhaps the most impressive. Built in the typical Byzantine style of the 15th century, the church occupies a commanding position on the edge of the castle walls and boasts magnificent views southwest over Berat. It was, sadly, locked when we arrived.
By the time we had returned from admiring the church, a small army of excited schoolchildren had been let loose in the grounds nearby. They ran circles around their exasperated minders, who slumped into the plastic chairs with an air of resignation. Wondering quite how anyone had enough energy to sprint up and down the ramparts as these children were doing, we decided to make our way towards the viewing platform at the south of the castle.
A mysterious encounter in the Berat Castle Water Cistern
Along the way, we spotted an intriguing wooden sign nailed haphazardly to a wall. “Water Cistern”, read the faded paint. An arrow pointed around the corner of a crumbling wall. The sign led us into a quiet courtyard surrounded by the ruins of the castle’s inner walls.
We walked across a short patch of dry grass, eventually stopping in front of a narrow set of steps that led down into a black pit. We could see the remains of a brick archway, built in classic Byzantine style, which would have covered the steps in the castle’s heyday. Now, all that remained were the outline of the arch and the darkness beneath.
An intriguing sound rang out from the black pit beyond the steps. It was hard to decipher at first – a high-pitched squealing that seemed frenzied and urgent. Despite Lucy’s protestations, I took a few steps down the stairs to investigate.
Almost immediately, I realised that there was something alive down there. Not just one creature, but hundreds – possibly thousands. The cacophony of noise seemed to echo in all corners of the vast, empty space ahead of me.
Are those…bats?
Having stepped from the bright glare of the afternoon sun, it was almost impossible to see anything in the dark, cavernous pit beneath the steps. More worryingly, the steps stopped abruptly in mid-air. As I leaned forward, I began to make out the faint glistening of still water far beneath me. If anyone were to slip and fall, they would not make it out of there.
As I gripped a little tighter to the wall, I realised the source of the sound. Bats, too many chirping voices to count, were living in the dark ruins of this water cistern. Indeed, as my eyes began adjusting to the darkness, I could make out the impressive scale of this subterranean structure.
Massive columns supported the arching rooftops, reminding me of the famous Basilica Cistern below ancient Istanbul. The stagnant water beneath me was a poor imitation of the cistern’s past grandeur, but the presence of the hordes of bats – heard but not seen – brought new magic to this strange place.
Truth be told, I wasn’t too keen to linger long on those strange steps. Paranoid thoughts flickered through my head, and I found myself imagining a bat – or maybe a whole fleet of them – flapping past me as I teetered on the edge above the water. I gingerly climbed back up to firmer ground and the safety of daylight.
Discovering the Viewpoint over Berat
Happily, our next viewpoint avoided sheer drops and gave us a magnificent vista across Berat and beyond.
On the edge of the castle complex, a vast Albanian flag flutters above the city. The flag is visible throughout the city, and its location is the perfect place to admire the Ottoman old town from above. The viewpoint offers a birds-eye view of the small streets, private courtyards, and enticing alleyways that spread throughout the city.
We quickly discovered that this is also the perfect place for wedding photographs. No sooner had we arrived than we spotted a bride and groom stepping out of a fancy car, flanked by two flustered photographers who buzzed excitedly around the pair. They made a beeline for our position, and we beat a hasty retreat back down to the riverside.
We have written a travel guide to Berat Castle to help you make the most of your time exploring the ancient fortress.
An accidental tour of the King Mosque Complex
When we arrived back in the main town, the sun was beginning to set. A long shadow had fallen over the city, and we stumbled across a quiet courtyard that had been plunged into shade. A couple of stallholders were packing up after a long day, and a stray dog limped meekly past us.
The quaint arches of a caravanserai flanked one edge of the courtyard. Next to us was the entrance to the King Mosque, or Xhamia Mbret. This 15th-century mosque forms the centrepiece of the courtyard complex. As we strolled past, a man beckoned us over and excitedly offered to show us inside.
He led us to the wooden doorway, gestured for us to remove our shoes, and pointed us inside the building. We were struck by the intricate beauty of the wooden ceiling, and the calm, still atmosphere. As the door swung closed behind us, all noise from the outside world seemed to fade away.
Our guide showed us some of the intricate murals on the ceiling and gave us the chance to explore at our own pace. A narrow staircase took us to the women’s balcony, with views of the main room below.
Upon exiting the mosque, our guide led us across the courtyard to an unassuming building with a subtle doorway. This, he explained, was the Teqe, a small square space where dervishes and musicians performed. The interior is a superb example of Albanian Islamic architecture, with superb paintwork adorning every inch of the walls and ceilings.
After spending a few minutes marvelling at the craftsmanship on show, we thanked our guide, made a small donation to an elderly lady cleaning the mosque and made our way out of the complex. The light was beginning to fade, and we started our hunt for dinner.
The quest for dinner in Berat
We had our eye on a couple of spots for our evening meal. Berat has its fair share of restaurants and bars, but there were two that stood out to us.
The first was Homemade Food Lili, featured in the Lonely Planet guide and still receiving rave reviews today thanks to its dedication to traditional dishes and splendid hospitality. With only four covers each evening, we knew our chances of securing a last-minute table were slim. So it proved, as we arrived at the unpretentious entrance, to find a small sign confirming that they had no tables left.
Our second choice was Eni Traditional Food. This family-run restaurant occupies a small plot on the edge of the Gorica district, next to the beautiful stone bridge connecting the two sides of the old town. It was a warm evening when we arrived, and we opted to dine on the small terrace at the front of the restaurant.
The terrace proved to be the perfect spot to enjoy our one evening in Berat. As dusk turned to night, we appreciated the magnificent views across the Osum to the castle and the sparkling lights of the old town. Berat’s famous thousand windows were a sight to behold as they glowed orange in the early evening twilight.
A couple of delicious dishes – moussaka was the definite highlight – were the perfect accompaniment to the view. Halfway through our meal, the call to prayer began to ring out across Berat. The sound rolled down the valley, sung out from every mosque until eventually disappearing as suddenly as it had arrived.
There could be no finer soundtrack to the evening. As we boarded our bus out of Berat the next day, we heard it again. One day, we hope, we will return to Berat and listen to it echo through the streets once more.
Oh this looks like such a great place to visit. Thanks so much for sharing it!
Thank you! Berat is a really lovely little place. Thanks for reading.
What a wonderful trip! You can definitely see why it’s been given that name – all those windows make it look very charming x
Thanks, Jenny – those windows really do steal the show! Thanks for reading.
What an absolutely stunning place – and your view at breakfast is just breathtaking! I think I’d share your hesitation about the bats as well – even if they do have sonar to avoid obstacles 🙂
In order to earn itself the name, the city of a thousand windows, was it the first city to have windows? Because buildings with windows doesn’t seem that much of a deal from a modern perspective. Anyway, great post. The city sounds and looks awesome
I haven’t heard of this place before, I can see why it has the nickname! It sounds like you have had a great trip. You have shared some beautiful scenic photographs. Thank you for sharing!
Lauren
Oh wow Berat looks beautiful and I would love to visit Berat Castle, but the encounter with the bats at the water cistern sounds creepy!