![](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/8asee39z40cf1m57/images/file1WKRKVSW.jpg)
![](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/8asee39z40cf1m57/images/file4ZXMLP5W.jpg)
![](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/8asee39z40cf1m57/images/fileCQM7TKYU.jpg)
![](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/8asee39z40cf1m57/images/fileWYH3EO9E.jpg)
![](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/8asee39z40cf1m57/images/file0UFOM2JR.jpg)
The corridor of gushing waterfalls that earned it the moniker ‘Paradise of a Thousand Springs’ is equally languorous: rivulets rake the stone walls, trickling down to the water basin through gravity-defying profusions of vegetation and resolute, twisted trees.
This is one of Europe’s last wild rivers — practically the only major waterway on the continent unsullied by dams — and a long battle to preserve its natural rhythm and important ecosystems from developers has finally been won. I dip my paddle into the Vjosa’s turquoise meltwaters, part of an unbroken rush from Greece’s Pindus Mountains to the Albanian coastal city of Vlorë. And as I steer the nose of my kayak through picturesque channels, I start to understand why this virgin river, eulogised in poetry and songs over centuries, matters so much to locals, and why a multi-year campaign to preserve it resonated with the likes of clothing brand Patagonia and even actor Leonardo DiCaprio. The 168-mile Vjosa was declared Europe’s first wild river national park in March 2023. Today, the forwardlooking travel guides who rallied to help save the country’s ‘blue heart’ wear this victory like a badge of honour.
“A politician once challenged me: ‘Who do you think you are, the father of the river?’” rafting guide Zamo Spathara says earnestly the next day, recounting his part in the fight. “I replied truthfully: ‘No, rivers aren’t mine or yours. They’re for everyone.’” I’m back on the Vjosa, part of a five-night active adventure itinerary in southern Albania organised