I had long wished to cross Albania and Macedonia, from the Adriatic to
the AEgean, by motor, but the nearer we had drawn to Albania the more
unlikely this project had seemed of realization. We were assured that
there were no roads in the interior of the country or that such roads as
existed were quite impassable for anything save ox-carts; that the
country had been devastated by the fighting armies and that it would be
impossible to get food en route; that the mountains we must cross were
frequented by bandits and _comitadjis_ and that we would be exposed to
attack and capture; that, though the Italians might see us across
Albania, the Serbian and Greek frontier guards would not permit us to
enter Macedonia, and, as a final argument against the undertaking, we
were warned that the whole country reeked with fever. But when I told
the Governor-General of Albania, General Piacentini, what I wished to do
every obstacle disappeared as though at the wave of a magician's wand.

"You will leave Valona early to-morrow morning," he said, after a short
conference with his Chief of Staff. "You will be accompanied by an
officer of my staff who was with the Serbian army on its retreat across
Albania to the sea. The country is well garrisoned and I do not
anticipate the slightest trouble, but, as a measure of precaution, a
detachment of soldiers will follow your car in a motor-truck. You will
spend the first night at Argirocastro, the second at Ljaskoviki, and the
third at Koritza, which is occupied by the French. I will wire our
diplomatic agent there to make arrangements with the Jugoslav
authorities for you to cross the Serbian border to Monastir, where we
still have a few troops engaged in salvage work. South of Monastir you
will be in Greek territory, but I will wire the officer in command of
the Italian forces at Salonika to take steps to facilitate your journey
across Macedonia to the AEgean."

This journey across one of the most savage and least-known regions in
all Europe was arranged as simply and matter-of-factly as a clerk in a
tourist bureau would plan a motor trip through the White Mountains. With
the exception of one or two alterations in the itinerary made necessary
by tire trouble, the journey was made precisely as General Piacentini
planned it and so complete were the arrangements we found that meals
and sleeping quarters had been prepared for us in tiny mountain hamlets
whose very names we had never so much as hea