Being ‘a Greek spy’ back at Butrint

The site of Butrint, in the foreground, looking towards the Straits of Corfu. I was in Greece, rolling off a ferry at Kyllini, about to visit its mighty castle, when I received the text message accusing me of being a Greek spy. Almost at once, I got an avalanche of emails from angry Albanians asking me to explain myself. It continued thus for a week. The virulence was, to say the least, discombobulating. After all, I have been a staunch champion of Albania and Albanians over the past three decades. Of course, I am not a Greek spy, but a nemesis had dubbed (into Albanian) and widely distributed a filmed lecture I had given 15 years ago, and made me state that Albanians had no part in c