Cape of Rodon – A Silent Place Guarding History, Faith and Hope

It is said that on dark nights, when the northern wind blows and the waves crash against the rocks, at the Cape of Rodon one feels as though time has stopped and that, with a little imagination, one can almost see the figures and events of centuries gone by. Ancient legends tell of a mysterious light that once shone upon the cliff — a beacon for sailors lost at sea. This light, once believed to be a blessing from unknown deities, was to be later seen as a sign of divine protection and hope. It is no coincidence that two of Albania’s most precious monuments — Skanderbeg’s Castle and the Church of St. Anthony (Shën Ndou) — were built on this very cape.
Around 1451–1452, after a period of alternating war and peace with the Ottoman Empire. Gjergj Kastrioti Skënderbeu chose this solitary, strategic site near his capital Kruja to erect a fortress. Independent from Venetian control, the castle would serve as a secure exit to the sea in case the army needed to retreat or else for ease of communication with western allies. The historian Marin Barleti records that Skanderbeg had even begun building a small city there, which he called “Kjurilë” or “Chiurilium”. The Ottomans later found it deserted and unfinished — and razed it to the ground. Barleti also recounts that Skanderbeg once spent part of the summer and autumn at Rodon with his wife, enjoying hunting and leisure at a time when warfare did not demand his immediate presence.
The fortress, built upon solid terrain, had thick walls descending from the hill down to the coast, forming an unsurmountable shield against any assault. Venetian travelers and later Albanian scholars described it as a work of great military foresight. Though only fragments now remain in silent defiance of centuries gone by, the outer defensive wall measured 100 meters long, ending at the sea and featuring two round towers. The fortress was destroyed by the Ottomans in 1467 and later repaired by the Venetians in 1500.
A few hundred meters from the castle, nestled between two hills, stands the Church of St. Anthony of Padua (Shën Ndou). Built in the Middle Ages, perhaps atop an earlier sacred site, it became a center of pilgrimage and prayer for hundreds of believers. For many Albanian Catholics, St. Anthony’s Day is the time they return here seeking healing, blessing and spiritual peace. Near the church there once stood a monastery. Historical records mention both the Monastery of St. Mary and the Monastery of St. Anthony, one of the earliest Franciscan convents known since 1599. The monks who lived there were revered for their wisdom and life in harmony with nature. They aided villagers, prayed for sailors and gave the entire region a sense of sanctity. Old accounts tell that during stormy nights, the monks would light candles so their glow might guide ships through
the darkness — a gesture perhaps continuing a much older tradition, when fire was lit on the same spot to guide sailors across the sea.
In this small stretch of land above the waters, war and peace, earthly struggle and spiritual devotion, are deeply intertwined. Here, Skanderbeg built his fortress to protect the land, while the faithful raised a church to safeguard the soul. And between these two monuments, the wind still blows, carrying with it the voices of many ages past.