The Bay of Vlora has no single best beach: within less than 30 kilometres the coast changes from the shallow sands of Dalani, beside the Narta wetlands, to the city beaches of the Old Beach and Lungomare, the pebbles and clear water of Uji i Ftohtë, the quiet coves of Radhimë and the boat departures of Orikum.
Ask ten people to recommend the best beach in the Bay of Vlora and there may be ten different answers, all of them right. Many Mediterranean destinations revolve around one famous stretch of sand. The Bay of Vlora offers something less usual: a coastline that changes character every few kilometres.
Why no two beaches feel the same
From north to south, wide sandy beaches become pebble coves and busy promenades give way to rocky shores. Water that feels warm and shallow in one place becomes clear and refreshingly cool only a few minutes further south. Searching for one “best beach” here makes little sense, because each stretch of shore suits a different kind of day.
Some mornings are made for walking barefoot across warm sand, others for a mask and an underwater world a few metres from the shore. Some days call for music, cafés and a cocktail at sunset; on others there is only the sound of waves breaking against limestone while a fishing boat heads towards the horizon. This changing coastline is one reason visitors return year after year: they may stay in the same hotel, eat at the same restaurant and watch the same sunset, yet every morning the bay feels different.
The journey begins in the north.
Dalani: shallow water beside the Narta wetlands
At Dalani the landscape opens out as the Bay of Vlora meets the wetlands surrounding the Narta Lagoon. There are no towering cliffs and no fashionable beach clubs, only a horizon that seems almost endless, where sea, sky and lagoon blend into one another. It is a sense of space that is difficult to find elsewhere on the Albanian coast.
The seabed stays shallow for a considerable distance, so the water warms quickly in summer and is calm on many days. Families with young children appreciate the gentle entry into the sea. Photographers tend to arrive early or stay until sunset, when the whole shore glows with soft golden light reflected across the shallow water.
In the quieter hours of the morning, the wet sand may be scattered with hundreds of tiny sand bubbles. Anyone who waits a few seconds may see miniature ghost crabs emerge from their burrows, only to vanish again the moment they sense movement. Children soon turn spotting them into a game.
The nearby wetlands are also rich in birdlife. The wider Vjosa–Narta landscape lies on the Adriatic Flyway and, according to BirdLife International, supports more than 200 recorded bird species. Depending on the season, flamingos, herons and dozens of migratory species can often be seen feeding a short distance from the shoreline, so a single walk at Dalani takes in both a beach and an internationally important wetland. It is a beach built less around excitement than around breathing a little more slowly.
Porto Nova: fishing boats and winter shells
Thousands of cars pass Porto Nova every summer, and very few stop. That may be exactly why it has kept its quiet character. Lying between the northern beaches and the city, Porto Nova has never tried to compete with the better-known beaches further south; instead, it rewards curiosity.
Those who leave the main road find a peaceful shoreline where local fishermen (in Albanian, peshkatarët) still prepare their boats before sunrise and the pace of life follows the sea rather than the clock. Early mornings have a rhythm of their own: nets are untangled, engines start one by one and gulls circle overhead, waiting for the first fish to be cleaned. It is one of the most authentic fishing scenes in the bay.
After winter storms, Porto Nova reveals another surprise. Changing currents deposit shells unlike those found only a few kilometres away: cream-coloured cockles, delicate spiral sea snails and polished fragments of larger Mediterranean shells. Local children compare colours and patterns as though the beach had opened a small natural museum overnight. No two mornings look exactly alike, because the sea rearranges its exhibition while everyone sleeps.
The Old Beach: where Vlorë learned to swim
Long before Lungomare became the city’s modern waterfront, the Old Beach – Plazhi i Vjetër in Albanian – was where summer happened. Ask older residents of Vlorë about their childhood and many conversations eventually return here. Families arrived with umbrellas, homemade lunches and inflatable toys long before organised tourism transformed the coastline; swimming lessons began in these waters and first summer friendships were made on this sand.
Urban development has changed the area considerably over recent decades, but its importance has never been measured by luxury or exclusivity. It is measured by memory.
The beach also has a quality that visitors notice at once, often without knowing why. The seabed is mostly sandy and slopes gently into the bay, so the water is warmer and softer than on the rocky coast further south. Instead of choosing where to place each foot, as on the pebbles of Uji i Ftohtë or Radhimë, bathers simply walk straight into the sea. This gradual depth explains why so many local children learned to swim here, and why parents still prefer it for young swimmers gaining confidence.
The atmosphere is unmistakably Mediterranean. Children build sandcastles while grandparents sit beneath umbrellas, telling stories that grow slightly more dramatic every summer; vendors move slowly along the promenade with fresh fruit and cold drinks, teenagers play beach volleyball and older couples watch a sea they have known for decades. At the Old Beach, family traditions have become part of a city’s identity.
Lungomare: the city’s waterfront
If the Old Beach tells the story of yesterday, Lungomare, the seafront promenade of Vlorë, represents the city today. Wide pedestrian walkways, cafés, restaurants, playgrounds and cycling paths run beside the shore, creating a waterfront designed as much for living as for swimming. People rarely come for only one activity: a morning swim becomes breakfast overlooking the sea, an afternoon coffee turns into an evening walk, and a sunset stroll often ends with dinner as the lights of the bay begin to reflect across the calm water.
Lungomare is one of the rare places where the beach never truly empties. Before sunrise, runners and cyclists are already moving along the promenade; during the hottest hours, families fill the water while the cafés buzz with conversation. After sunset the rhythm changes again, as musicians, street performers and evening walkers gradually replace the swimmers.
Few visitors notice a smaller transformation. As the sea calms in the evening, its surface often turns almost mirror-like, and on still nights the lights of the promenade stretch across the water in long, shimmering reflections, as if the city continued beneath the sea. Photographs rarely capture it, but it is what many visitors remember long after returning home. On Lungomare, the Bay of Vlora is part of everyday life.
Uji i Ftohtë: pebbles, rocks and clear water
Leave the city behind for only a few minutes and, at Uji i Ftohtë, the coastline changes almost without warning. The name means “cold water”, after the freshwater springs along this coast. The long sandy beaches give way to smooth white pebbles, limestone rocks and water so transparent that many first-time visitors instinctively slow down just to look at it.
The colour changes too. Instead of the softer blues found further north, the sea shifts between emerald, turquoise and deep sapphire with the sun, the depth and the movement of the waves. This is the stretch of coast that many locals recommend when someone asks where the Bay of Vlora begins to show its true character. It is also where our family-run Valza Boutique Hotel stands, a few minutes’ walk from the water.
Swimming here feels different. The water usually deepens more quickly, which suits confident swimmers, and on calm days visibility often extends several metres beneath the surface. A simple mask and snorkel is enough to turn a short swim into exploration: no expensive equipment or diving licence is needed, although conditions always depend on wind, waves and passing boats.
Only a few metres from the shore, shoals of silver sea bream move between the rocks while colourful wrasse dart through narrow cracks in search of food. Purple sea urchins cling to the limestone, sea anemones sway with the current and tiny transparent shrimp almost disappear against the pale seabed. The slower a swimmer moves, the more the sea reveals.
Many swimmers never realise that octopuses are surprisingly common along this rocky coastline. By day they stay inside natural holes in the limestone, changing colour to match their surroundings. The clue experienced snorkellers look for is a neat pile of broken shells – the remains of crabs and shellfish – just outside an underwater shelter.
Occasionally an orange or reddish Mediterranean sea star rests on the seabed. Unlike tropical starfish, it blends into the rocky surroundings and is easily overlooked. Most visitors spend the day looking towards the horizon, yet much of the life of this coast lies only a few steps from the beach, beneath the surface.
Radhimë: coves, olive groves and sea glass
Further south, the Bay of Vlora changes character once again. The coastline grows quieter: olive groves stretch almost to the sea, small family-run hotels replace busy apartment blocks, and the beaches unfold one after another as small coves separated by rocky headlands. Nothing here feels hurried, and Radhimë has no list of attractions to tick off.
The sea is often very calm in the morning, which makes it ideal for paddleboarding and kayaking. From the water, the coast reveals details that cannot be seen from land: small caves beneath limestone ledges, swallows nesting high on the cliffs and colours that deepen as the sunlight moves across the bay.
Walking along the shore is an experience in itself. Instead of soft sand, many sections are covered with smooth pebbles polished by countless winters of wave action, and between them lie shells carried ashore by changing currents, some almost white, others in delicate shades of cream, pink or violet. Spiral sea snails, fragments of fan mussels and patterned shells no larger than a fingernail form natural mosaics that change after every storm.
Children instinctively start collecting them, and adults usually end up doing the same. A shell that looks empty, however, may still shelter a hermit crab or another small animal, so many are better admired and left on the shore.
After strong winter seas, another small surprise sometimes appears among the pebbles: sea glass. Once ordinary bottles discarded decades ago, these pieces have rolled beneath the waves for years until they became smooth, frosted fragments of green, turquoise, amber and, occasionally, deep cobalt blue.
Radhimë’s real luxury is that nothing demands attention: no loud music, no crowded promenade, no timetable, only the rhythm of the sea. Many visitors arrive planning to spend an hour and leave wondering where the afternoon went.
Orikum: where boat trips begin
By the time travellers reach Orikum, the bay feels different once more. The coastline opens towards the Karaburun Peninsula, boats become part of the landscape and the horizon no longer marks the end of the journey but the beginning of another. Here a beach becomes a starting point as much as a place to swim.
Every morning, the marina slowly comes to life. Skippers prepare their boats, families gather with bags and towels, kayaks are lowered into the water and small groups wait to board speedboats bound for Haxhi Ali Cave, the beaches of Karaburun or the cliffs overlooking the Ionian Sea. One boat heads for sea caves carved into white limestone; another for secluded coves with no roads, hotels or restaurants, which can only be reached by boat; others continue towards Sazan Island.
For many travellers, Orikum is where a beach holiday turns into an expedition, and the shore reflects that spirit. Compared with the lively Lungomare or the slow rhythm of Radhimë, Orikum carries a constant sense of movement: sailboats leave the marina, paddleboarders follow the sheltered coastline and divers prepare their equipment before slipping beneath the surface. On exceptionally clear days, looking out across the water, it becomes easier to understand why this corner of Albania has drawn sailors for centuries.
Why does the water change colour from beach to beach?
People often ask why the water changes colour so dramatically along the Bay of Vlora. The answer has surprisingly little to do with the water itself and a great deal to do with what lies beneath and around it. Sandy seabeds scatter sunlight differently from dark rocks, and white limestone reflects light more intensely than darker cliffs. Water depth changes the colours the eye perceives, while the angle of the sun turns the same beach from bright turquoise at midday into deep sapphire in the evening.
That is why photographs taken only a few kilometres apart can appear to show completely different seas: what changes is the landscape beneath the water. Every beach along the bay has its own colours, its own sounds and its own pace. Even the white limestone cliffs that brighten this water once formed part of the floor of an ancient ocean, a chapter in the longer story of why the Bay of Vlora matters.
Which beach is right for you?
The Bay of Vlora never forces visitors into a single experience; each of its beaches answers a different question.
- For shallow water where young children can play for hours, Dalani is difficult to beat.
- For quiet places discovered before everyone else, Porto Nova rewards curiosity.
- To understand the emotional bond between the city and the sea, spend an afternoon at the Old Beach.
- For a day that combines swimming, cafés, ice cream and an evening walk, Lungomare offers the complete Mediterranean city experience.
- If a snorkel mask always goes in the suitcase, head for Uji i Ftohtë: the underwater scenery alone justifies the journey.
- For turquoise water, peaceful afternoons and coves where time seems to slow down, Radhimë is likely to become a favourite.
- If every holiday needs at least one adventure, Orikum is where the journey truly begins.
None of these choices excludes the others. During a single holiday, it is possible to experience them all.
Small details most visitors miss
The Bay of Vlora rewards people who slow down. Before entering the water, look between the rocks: small blennies and gobies often watch curiously before disappearing into tiny underwater caves. Look closely at a shell, too, and no two patterns are exactly alike; every colour, ridge and spiral records a different marine creature that once lived beneath these waters.
Walk barefoot across smooth pebbles warmed by the afternoon sun before diving into the cool sea: the contrast lasts only a few seconds, yet it is one of the sensations visitors remember for years. Float quietly without speaking and sounds that disappear on crowded beaches return – the clicking of pebbles rolling with each wave, the distant splash of a fish breaking the surface, swallows circling above the cliffs and the soft echo of water entering cracks beneath the limestone.
Even the scent changes towards the south. Near the city, the air carries traces of coffee, restaurants and the promenade; towards Radhimë and Orikum, it fills with wild herbs, pine trees, olive groves, warm stone and salt carried inland by the afternoon sea breeze. These details almost never appear in guidebooks, yet they are often the memories people carry home.
Walk a little further along the rocks instead of stopping at the first free space, because some beautiful viewpoints lie only a few minutes from the main beaches. Stay until sunset at least once: the changing light transforms every beach, while the limestone of Karaburun turns from pale grey to gold, then orange and finally deep purple before disappearing into the evening.
Wake up early one morning, too. Before nine o’clock the sea is often almost perfectly still, an ideal moment for swimming, snorkelling or simply watching the bay wake up in silence. Sometimes a dolphin appears briefly offshore and disappears just as quickly; there are no guarantees, which is part of what makes such encounters so memorable.
Within less than 30 kilometres, the bay moves from quiet lagoons alive with birdlife to beaches filled with the energy of the city, from sandy seabeds to rocky underwater worlds, from shells polished by the sea to an octopus watching from beneath a limestone ledge or a secluded cove reached only by boat. That is why people rarely leave saying they have seen everything. There is always another cove around the next headland, and another sunset that looks different from the last.
Experience the place
The beaches of the bay can be explored one at a time, from an early swim among the rocks of Uji i Ftohtë to a boat trip to Sazan Island or the Karaburun Peninsula, which our reception team helps guests choose and book, sea and weather permitting. The 4-star Valza Boutique Hotel stands in Uji i Ftohtë, on the southern side of Vlorë, about 300 metres from the nearest beach – a 5 to 6 minute walk – and from the hotel the road south to Radhimë and Orikum does not cross the city centre. At the end of the day, Eden by Valza, on the hotel’s sixth-floor rooftop, looks across the whole bay with a 180-degree view.
This article is part of MAREOGRAPH, an independent editorial project created by Valza Boutique Hotel to document and explain the natural, historical and cultural heritage of the Bay of Vlora and the Albanian Mediterranean. Each article combines scientific research, historical context, local knowledge and human storytelling, to help readers understand what they are seeing and what should be protected as the coast continues to change.
