
I ditched UK for ‘Europe's Maldives' with fab beaches & £1 beer…childcare's FREE & bills cost less than KFC Family Feast
Add to that an insanely cheap cost of living that's a jaw-dropping 61 per cent lower than the UK, and it was a no-brainer for Alice Taylor when she decided to move there in 2017.
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The 38-year-old, who's originally from Cornwall, has set up home in Tirana, the capital of Albania, which is fast-becoming a new tourism hotspot.
A staggering 11.7million people visited last year alone - a 15 per cent rise from 2023, and nearly double the number who holidayed there five years ago.
While the ex-Eastern Bloc state remains one of the cheaper European resorts to visit, with beer as cheap as £1 and a glass of wine £1.50, Alice says she saves thousands by living there.
Her monthly electricity bill is as little as £21 - less than the cost of a KFC Family Feast - childcare is basically free and eating out is cheaper than cooking at home.
But the biggest thing for Alice - aside from the beautiful beaches and picturesque mountain hikes on her doorstep - is the lack of crime.
Alice, a TV presenter and journalist, tells The Sun: 'It feels safer than anywhere I've lived. There is nowhere in the country where I wouldn't feel safe to go to by myself day or night.
'I walk home late in the evening alone and feel safe, leave my house unlocked and leave my bag on a table outside a cafe on a coffee table and know it will still be there when I return.
'It's not like London where you have to be careful getting your phone or wallet out while walking on the street. It's a completely different culture.
'My husband will stop outside a local shop, leave the car unlocked with the engine running and go inside to do whatever he has to do and come back.
'You couldn't do that in London, you'd be arrested for stopping in the middle of the street and your car wouldn't be there when you came back!
Up-and-coming holiday hotspot has £2 beers, £30 hotels & is 3 hours from UK
'There is crime and corruption but it's limited to criminal gangs. If you're not involved in that world you won't have any issues at all.'
Alice fell in love with the country during a three-and-a-half-day trip back in 2017 - which had to be extended after she contracted an ear infection.
While there she got chatting to a group of Albanians at a coffee shop - and a few shots raki (a 40 per cent proof local spirit) later, she felt like one of the locals.
'They didn't speak a word of English and their only idea of a blonde British woman was Princess Diana, but we had a lovely time," she recalls.
'I was drunk when I left and when I tried to change my plane ticket, I accidentally booked it for three weeks later instead of a few days later, so I decided to make the most of it.
I walk home late in the evening alone and feel safe, leave my house unlocked and leave my bag on a table outside a cafe on a coffee table and know it will still be there when I return
Alice Taylor
'I found it really interesting, beautiful. The people were really friendly and I felt safe, I wasn't being cat-called on the street or harassed and there was no sense of unease.'
Alice made friends, attended parties and went on several hikes. By the time she left Albania, she had already booked her return ticket - and 10 days later she moved there for good from Malta, where she'd lived for a decade after graduating from university.
'I didn't feel at home in the UK so I went to Malta, where I felt I was always an expat and a foreigner," she says.
"But then I came to Albania and it clicked, I felt I fitted in here."
Meals out under a tenner
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Alice is not alone. A growing number of people are seeing the benefits to Albania, which according to Living Cost data for most expensive places to live ranked 108th - versus the UK in 11th place.
The site, based on crowdsourced data, found it to be 61 per cent cheaper than the UK. Eating out is half the price, rent a quarter and utility bills a third.
The country is becoming so popular that US President Donald Trump 's daughter Ivanka and her husband Jared Kushner are building a $1.4billion luxury resort there, while flight traffic has increased 114 per cent since 2019.
'The cost of living - although rising - is still cheap," says Alice.
'I went out for lunch with my husband the other day - we had six large meatballs, two large salads, two portions of grilled potatoes, bread, dips and drinks, and it came to €10 (£8.40).
I went out for lunch with my husband the other day - we had six large meatballs, two large salads, two portions of grilled potatoes, bread, dips and drinks, and it came to €10 (£8.40)
Alice Taylor
"It's definitely cheaper going out than entertaining at home. A cappuccino here is €1.20 (£1), and an espresso is 70 cents (60p), so it's really cheap.
"A beer is anything from €1.20 (£1) upwards and a glass of wine can be €1.50 (£1.25).
'Brits are cottoning onto this. I just hope it doesn't become stag party central. Albanians drink but they don't get drunk, they don't pee in the street or beat each other up, it's a different culture.
'People will drink one raki in the morning and maybe one at lunchtime. If they had a British mentality, oh my God, they would be s**tfaced by lunchtime and pass out.'
Alice also notes that everything in Tirana takes less than an hour to walk to, and local bus tickets are 40 cents (34p) - or for three euros (£2.50) you can travel 35 miles away.
Cut-price housing
Rent is considerably cheaper, too.
Alice used to pay €350 (£295) per month for a spacious apartment with two double bedrooms 'in the fanciest part of town' when she initially moved.
Eight years on that same pad would cost around €800 (£670) but Alice says there are other places costing €500 (£420) per month - by comparison, two-bed flats in London tend to cost upwards of £2,200.
Alice bought a 67sqm two-bedroom, one bathroom ground floor apartment with an open plan living room-diner and 70sqm of land outside for €100,000 (£84,000).
That's a quarter of the price of a two-bed flat in London, which ranges between £400,000 and £1million, and a third of what you would fork out on average in the UK, with prices between £270,000 and £700,000.
Her monthly bills can be as little as €25 (£21) for electricity, compared to £73.41 in the UK; water is €20 (£16) compared to £37, and internet is €15 (£12) compared to £32.
That brings her monthly bills to around £52, compared to £160-plus back home - around a third of the cost.
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Free childcare
One of the biggest perks for Alice, who has a five-year-old daughter, is the minimal cost of childcare.
For full-time hours parents pay a minimal fee, and for half-days it's entirely free from birth.
Alice pays just €30 (£25) per month to send her daughter to kindergarten five days a week, from 7am until 5pm, and that includes two meals.
The cost of having a child under two at nursery full-time in the UK is £238.95 a week on average including government funding, going down to £225.70 for over twos, according to Coram - but can be significantly more depending on where you live.
While it's much cheaper, she concedes the classrooms are 'a bit overcrowded' compared to those in the UK and it's 'not the best in the world' but the quality of care is high.
They love children, stranger danger isn't a thing. People stop you on the street to say, 'She's such a sweet girl, here's two euros.' It's such a lovely place to raise a child
Alice Taylor
She also relishes being able to bring up her daughter in a safe environment and insists locals are extremely accommodating towards families.
'In the UK you're told, 'Don't talk to or take sweets from strangers,' but here, family is really important and older people love nothing more than to give them sweets," Alice says.
'They love children, stranger danger isn't a thing. People stop you on the street to say, 'She's such a sweet girl, here's two euros.' It's such a lovely place to raise a child.
'Your child could be jumping up and down on a table in a restaurant, smashing glasses, and they would still say, 'Don't worry, leave her, she's fine.'
"In the UK, they would be like, 'Get your dirty rotten child out of here!''
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Top healthcare
Alice also praised the healthcare system in Albania, where it's free for citizens or €50 (£42) per year for foreign residents - and it's not plagued by lengthy waiting lists like in the UK.
'My husband had a few heart issues related to stress and on the same day, he had three checks including an echo cardiogram,' she tells us.
'My daughter had pneumonia and was treated in the equivalent of A&E within 20 minutes.
"If I wake up tomorrow and don't feel well, I walk to my GP clinic and queue, and I will be seen the same day.
"There's no, 'Are you dead yet? Call when you can't breathe?' like there is in the UK, they get the ball rolling quickly.
If I wake up tomorrow and don't feel well, I walk to my GP clinic and queue, and I will be seen the same day
Alice Taylor
'The only problem is when it comes to serious or rare diseases and transplants, which they don't have the facilities or equipment to treat, but work is being done to change that.
'To get around this I take out a €700-a-year (£590) healthcare policy that covers my daughter and I, and means we can be treated in Italy or Turkey if they can't do anything here.'
Many Brits are attracted to Albania for its affordable dental care - including teeth whitening, which costs €100 (£75) for two sessions, and check-ups with cleaning for €10 (£7.50).
That same treatment would cost between £350 and £1,000 in the UK, and check-ups cost £89 with an additional £98 fee to see a hygienist, according to The London Centre for Cosmetic Dentistry.
'You don't need an appointment or have to wait six months like in the UK,' Alice says.
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Alice has been so inspired by her new life that she's penned three books - poetry collection Tales From North Albania, travel book Alice In Albania: 250 Adventures and a new photo-book called Inside Albania that's coming out soon.
Having lived there for eight years now, Alice is 'fluent enough' to work as a TV presenter and says locals are thrilled by any attempts to speak the language.
'There's no animosity or 'you need to speak my language', people are very helpful and can't do enough to help you like using Google translate, pictures or hand gestures,' she says.
Alice admits she is 'privileged' because being from the UK allows her to work for international companies, which not all Albanians would be able to benefit from.
'I've made it sound like the promised land, but of course there are problems," she adds.
"Local salaries are difficult here, it's difficult for LGTBQ+ people and there is corruption.
'It's still developing; the country is 34 years old since the fall of communism. It is a developing country, but as a British person I prefer Albania.
'When it comes to the weather, the food, the culture, access to nature and diversity of it, and the environment I can raise my daughter in, it's far better than the UK.
"You feel safe and the country is stunning - whether you want fancy beach resorts, mountain hikes or skiing, it has everything."
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The Independent
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Simon Calder's eastern European beach breaks that are as good as the Med
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8 hours ago
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Pope Leo XIV gets rock star welcome from young Catholics at huge vigil
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Times
9 hours ago
- Times
My tour of England's glorious cathedrals produced a clear winner
I am not religious. I have only a passing interest in architecture. But I've always been fascinated by cathedrals: the elaborate vaults and arcades, the clash and contrast of clerestories, the stained-glass windows and ornate organs. Cathedrals possess an aura that compels us to touch their walls. They make us feel small. Cathedrals are seldom humble, often humbling. But I'd seen very few English cathedrals and little of England, my experience largely limited to European celebrities: Sagrada Familia, Notre Dame, Santa Maria del Fiore. Always up for a challenge, always a glutton for self-imposed deadlines, I decided in June last year to visit all 42 of England's Anglican cathedrals in the space of a year. I do not own a car, and trains require mortgages, so I often relied on family and friends for favours. My partner drove us three hours from our London flat to a log cabin in Ledbury, accompanied by our year-old whippet. I planned to start strong: three cathedrals in three days. Hereford felt homely, much like the city, and Gloucester hosted the most striking cloister I'd ever seen. But Worcester proved the favourite, not for the Norman crypt, certainly not for King John, but because it welcomed dogs. Our whippet pulled at the lead, dragging me past a well-behaved collie and timid dachshund, itching to reach a statue with an outstretched hand. The highlight of the trip: our usually quiet puppy, bark echoing across a silent nave, desperate to play with a marble Bishop Philpott. June, July, and August consisted of low-hanging fruit, day trips to cathedrals near London: Portsmouth, Chichester, Chelmsford, Guildford, Rochester and St Albans. All remarkable places with unremarkable cathedrals. My brother and I travelled to Salisbury to see a building that John Ruskin described as gloomy and profound. I found the exterior gloomy, the interior profound. Salisbury is full of surprises: the font, designed by William Pye in 2008, delivers streams of water over black marble, and an intricate Chapter House hosts Magna Carta. Salisbury proved an early favourite. It remained so for only six days. I visited Ely on the most crowded day of the year: the October harvest festival. Throngs of people ate toasties and bought trinkets by the truckload. A storm arrived at the nick of time, detaining me inside the great nave, where I joked with stallholders, selling farmhouse cider and autumnal reefs, about the Great British weather. Ely provided the coldest toastie and the warmest welcome. I can't remember much of the architecture, such were the joys. I had to squeeze in several cathedrals each time I ventured north. Leicester, Nottingham, and Sheffield proved vibrant and fascinating places, let down by their cathedrals. Then came Lincoln. If I ever tire of London, you'll find me in Lincoln. I climbed the Steep Hill, cheered on by hardened locals, and stumbled breathlessly upon the mighty façade. Lincoln Cathedral lends itself to romance, presenting the perfect marriage of complexity and size: it was once the world's tallest building, until its central spire collapsed during a storm in 1548. Every architectural feature seems enriched with armies of gargoyles or fields of carved foliage. Something captures your attention with every glance. The cathedral represents its city: self-assured, punching above its weight. I visited Winchester in January with bookish friends. Its cathedral commands attention: the endless nave, the soaring arcades, Gormley's sculpture in the perma-flooded crypt. We stumbled upon Jane Austen's grave, started discussing books, as we often did, and spent the rest of the day on the Austen trail, visiting her old stomping grounds. A few weeks later, I went to another great literary cathedral, the oldest cathedral in England, Canterbury, host to Chaucer's pilgrims and Edward, the Black Prince. My mum and I, after a few midday wines, stared at Becket's shrine and slurred about British history. The climax of Canterbury is its stained glass, the best I've seen: the south window seemed never-ending, showing off the most ancient glass in England. Canterbury is a marvel. My mum and I left feeling giddy, perhaps because of the wine, more likely because of the windows. Cathedrals are not designated by size, age or style. Function alone defines their status. A cathedral is the principal church of a diocese, a geographical area overseen by a bishop and distinguished by the presence of the bishop's cathedra, the Latin word for seat or throne. Cathedrals were once linked to the granting of city status, which explains why relatively small places such as Ely, Wells and Salisbury are cities, while larger places such as Reading and Northampton are not. As I ticked off the places close to home, places I'd been before, I noticed new details. St Paul's is an exercise in symmetry, an exposé of mathematical precision, a work of architectural genius. Or so I'm told. My memory of that day belongs largely to a Chinese tourist, probably mid-thirties, clinging to the rails, afraid to move near the top of the dome. She laughed nervously. She could not speak a lick of English, but managed to hold out a hand. I looked over my home town, standing proud in the jewel of its skyline, staring out at the Shard, the Tate and Thames. I'd been saving one cathedral, hoping to make it my last: Durham. The best view comes from the train. Legend dictates that John Betjeman pleaded for the stationmaster job because of that view. The cathedral watches over the city, the Wear protects the cathedral. I rushed over cobbles, heading down and climbing up, until I found its feet. The inside of Durham matches the beauty of the outside: the gigantic nave, rib-vaulted ceilings, the scale of Norman ambition. I spent two hours strolling with neck craned. You could spend a lifetime in Durham and barely scratch the sandstone. I saw the miner's memorial on my way out, two angels holding up a coal-black slate. The last colliery closed in 1993 but the memorial stands as a testament to Durham's history: the cathedral and the pits, two symbols of a stoic city. Durham challenged Lincoln but fell just short. My story does not have a happy ending. Time seemed to slip away and so far I've visited only 36 of the 42. I missed out on some apparent unsung heroes: Bradford, Carlisle, Ripon, Truro, Wakefield and Wells — a delight, so I'm told. I plan to visit them soon. It's nice to know there's always more to see. In England's Cathedrals, Simon Jenkins writes that, in the course of building, 'masons reflected the lives of the communities around them'. I found that many cathedrals represented their people: St Paul's felt prodigious, a little arrogant; Lincoln seemed self-assured and proud; Durham proved complex and stoic; and Worcester was welcoming to humans and dogs. But that sentiment felt unfair to other places: the people of Rochester, Bristol, Coventry, Newcastle and many other towns and cities, unlike their cathedrals, remain remarkable. The joy of visiting English cathedrals is visiting England, spending time with its brilliant characters.