Butrint National Park

Listen for a moment. Frogs call from the reeds, and the leaves overhead move in the breeze off the water. The path under your feet is soft earth and old stone, shaded by eucalyptus, laurel and oak. Somewhere nearby, water laps against a muddy bank. Before you see a single ruin, Butrint makes itself known through its sounds... and through the quiet green light that falls through the trees.

You are standing on a small wooded peninsula in the far south of Albania, a short drive from the beaches of Ksamil. On one side lies Lake Butrint, a broad lagoon of brackish water. On another side, a narrow channel called the Vivari runs out toward the Ionian Sea. This meeting of lake, channel and sea shaped everything here. It brought traders, armies and settlers for well over two thousand years. Each group built on top of the one before.

That layering is what makes this place unusual. In one short walk, you can pass Greek stones, Roman baths, early Christian churches, Venetian walls and an Ottoman-era fortress. UNESCO added Butrint to its World Heritage list in 1992. Later, Albania protected the wider landscape as a national park. The wetlands around you are also recognised internationally for their birds and wildlife. So this is both an archaeological site and a living marsh.

Now, a story — and it is a legend, not history. In the Aeneid, the Roman poet Virgil writes that refugees from fallen Troy came to this shore. In the poem, the hero Aeneas stops here and meets Helenus, a Trojan prince, and Andromache, the widow of Hector. Romans liked this tale, because it gave the town a noble, ancient origin. Archaeology tells a different story, of Greek settlers from nearby Corfu and the mainland. But the legend gave Butrint its fame.

Walk on, and the ground opens into a curved bowl of stone seats. This is the theatre, first built in the Greek era and later altered by the Romans. Here is the first surprise. Look closely at the stones near the stage, and you may find carved Greek letters. Many of these inscriptions record the freeing of enslaved people. Their names were cut into the walls so that the whole town would know they were free.

The second surprise is often right in front of you. The lowest part of the theatre sits close to the water table. After rain, water can collect in the orchestra, the flat area in front of the stage. Frogs and small turtles sometimes live in it. Classical performances once filled this space with voices. Today, on a quiet afternoon, the loudest performers are often the frogs.

Next to the theatre stood a sanctuary of Asclepius, the Greek god of healing. People travelled here hoping for a cure. They left offerings and gifts of thanks. A healing cult needed water, and water was never far away at Butrint. Think of the crowds who came here — some sick, some hopeful, some simply curious. In a way, they were early visitors, much like you.

Under Rome, the town grew larger and richer. It became a Roman colony, and new buildings spread across the peninsula and even onto the plain across the channel. There were bathhouses, a forum, fine houses and an aqueduct that carried fresh water. As you walk, notice the thin red bricks set in rows between the stones. That pattern is typical Roman building work. It helps archaeologists tell one century from another.

In late antiquity, Christianity changed the skyline. Two buildings stand out. The first is a round baptistery with a famous mosaic floor of birds, animals and vines. To protect it, the mosaic is usually kept covered under sand, so most visitors only see the circles of columns. The second is the Great Basilica, a tall church with arched windows. Its walls still rise high, and the trees and sky now take the place of its roof.

After the Roman world faded, Butrint shrank. Over the centuries, it passed between Byzantine, Angevin, Venetian and Ottoman control. Venice valued this spot for its fishing and its position near Corfu. Look for the old city walls and their gates. One of them is called the Lion Gate. Above the opening, a carved relief shows a lion biting the head of a bull. That stone was reused from an older building, a small piece of recycling that is centuries old.

Now climb toward the top of the hill. Here, on the old acropolis, stands a castle that houses a small museum. Inside, you can see statues, coins, pottery and other finds from the excavations. Serious digging here began in the 1920s and 1930s, led by an Italian archaeologist, Luigi Maria Ugolini. Work continued under Albanian teams, and later with international partners. Every season, the ground still gives up new pieces of the story.

From the hilltop, look across the Vivari Channel. On the far bank, you may see a low, solid fortress near the water. It is linked to Ali Pasha of Tepelena, a powerful Ottoman governor of the early nineteenth century. His fortress guarded the channel and its valuable fishing. Out on the lake, you may notice lines of wooden posts. Those are mussel farms. Fishing and shellfish have fed people here for centuries, and they still do today.

Before you leave, stand still for a minute. Listen again to the frogs and the birds in the reeds. Feel the cool shade under the trees and the warmer air from the open water. Look at the stones nearest to you — Greek, Roman, Venetian, all side by side. As you walk back toward the entrance, notice how quickly the ruins disappear into the green. Butrint is a city that the forest and the marsh have slowly taken back.