What can I say about Montenegro....well....it was interesting. In other words - 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times'.
The scenery is amazing. Stunning. Jaw-dropping. Eye-popping. Someone give me another superlative. Unfortunately, this great land is populated with unpleasant people. Unpleasant in many ways - personality, as well as physique, as well as fashion choices. To be more specific - scowling, fat men and women in too-small speedos who strut around and glare at you with their bellies hanging out. Consider yourself lucky that this fashion trend hasn't caught on in most other parts of the world.
To be fair, there are also some pleasant people. We found these nice people in the mountains, when we went to Durmitor National Park. We also found the most difficult hike of our lives. A 7 km long (sounds easy right?) hike taking us up a total vertical distance of 800 meters. The guy at the tourist info office called it a 'family' hike - it took us four hours each direction, with multiple near-death experiences. But it was amazing. Refer to above superlatives. The following pics and vids don't do it justice. -E
Nearing the five hour mark of a gruelling drive on the skinny, twisting roads from the coast of Montenegro to the inland mountains, we stopped by a crude beverage stand on the side of the road in remote farm country to ask if they had some coffee. The farmer’s daughter called to her dad and before we knew it we were invited into their house and the four of us were sitting on the deck overlooking the valley. I was surprised to see that my freshly made cup of Montenegro country brew had a thick skin of milk fat on the surface. When I motioned for a spoon to remove the film (I say “motioned” because they only spoke Montenegrin) they seemed confused. Apparently, the milk was fresh from the udder and before I could inquire further I had a full cup of that straight-from-the-cow goodness in front of me. Mmm Mmm good. Elise and sat around for about a half an hour and muscled out what little Montenegrin/Croatian we could for conversation. Like many of the residents here in the Balkans, they also made their own honey and plum brandy – all organic, unpasteurized and delish. They declined our offer to pay for the hospitality; it was all on the house. I guess the honour of our company was payment enough.
Sometimes it feels like we spend all our time on the road. When a 200 km drive turns into a 6 hour crawl, the hours really add up. So, we decided to start recording our experiences on the road, so we could share them. Here are two videos taken in Montenegro in the Bay of Kotor area. One is a typical drive along the coast, and the other is a drive up Mt Lovcen, which is a single land road with more hairpin turns than you can imagine. Let us know if you like these, we have lots more!!
Been slacking on the blog a bit lately…wifi is a real luxury here in Montenegro. Here a few more tidbits about Bosnia that we never had the chance to post.
It was nice to finally see some cultural diversity in Eastern Europe once we got to Mostar, Hercegovina. Mostar was hit hard by the Yugoslavian civil war and there is still a great deal of infrastructure rehabilitation to be done. That means that there are all sorts of remnants from the front lines of battle like the skeletons of bombed-out/shelled-out buildings, which are eerily nestled between bright new apartments in otherwise perfectly normal residential neighbourhoods. From the looks of it, nature inevitably moves in to the condemned buildings, along with heaps of household trash, and it is quite a sight to behold. Between the remnants of the war, the many mosques with minarets calling Muslims to prayer, tall church steeples and a strong Turkish cultural presence, Mostar has been a major highlight of this trip
In contrast, when we drove to Sarajevo afterwards, we were surprised to see that it is much more rehabilitated than other parts of Bosnia, although the urban infrastructure is still seriously lacking. Which reminds me: rule number 1 for European transit is that, when in doubt, always validate your ticket. Elise and I mistakenly thought we had a day pass for the tram in Sarajevo but later learned that we had a non-validated two-way pass when we were the victims of a ticket checking blitz. We were riding the tram from downtown to our campground in the suburbs. The transit cops probably had us pegged for tourists and hence we would be easy prey for them to collect a fine towards their quota. Elise and I pleaded ignorance on account of the fact that we are tourists and we don’t speak Bosniak. The transit cops – three strongly-built, burly Bosniaks – were unwavering and they demanded to see our passports because we didn’t have the $40 CAD equivalent to pay for the fine. We didn’t have our passports either. So, we got kicked off at the next stop and there we were on the street with the three transit cops – who didn’t speak English – looming over us demanding our money and passports. They were relentless. We considered the fact that they might be ex-soldiers who were fighting in a war no more that 15 years ago. They solicited the help of a passer-by to translate their demands and we learned from this friendly girl that they had called the REAL cops to come settle things. Then, instead of translating what the guys were actualy saying, she told us to just jump in a cab and get the hell outta there! We heeded her advice and she jumped in the cab with us while the transit cops looked on helplessly. We dropped the girl off down the street and made it back to the safe haven of our campground. It was an ordeal to say the least, but on the bright side the tickets were still usable for the next day’s journey! Elise and Gully 1, Sarajevo 0.
We have since driven back to Dubrovnik, Croatia where we paid an outrageous $50 CAD to camp in a mediocre suburban campground. Not much more to say about that except that it is a stunning town despite being overrun with tourists. Now we are in Montenegro (Crna Gora to the locals) where driving is such that when you encounter oncoming traffic it feels as if you’re driving the wrong way on a one way street! More on the epic Montenegrin drives later.
-G
P.S. we will post links to our online photo albums as soon as we upload them!
Toilet paper is always optional.I have learned to keep stashes of it in my pockets, purse, glove compartment, backpack etc. because I have found myself too often in that prickly situation where you finish your business and naively reach for the tp, only to find that not only is there none, there isn’t even a toilet paper holder!Keeping a roll on hand at all times is just good planning.
Locks on bathroom doors are prohibited.Stalls don’t come equipped with locks.Maybe stall designers were afraid people would spend too much time drip-drying.
Sitting in a café at least 2 hours a day is a must.I’ve never seen more cafes per capita in my life.Locals fritter away the hours lounging in the outdoor cafes, chatting and people-watching.It is a little disconcerting to walk down the street and always have an audience of old men sipping from tiny espresso cups.
Always validate your tram ticket.But if you don’t, running away from the tram cops is a valid option.Obviously there is a story here….
Always obey the speed limit. Unfortunately, the highest speed in Bosnia is 80 km/hr (which is slow, but to go any faster would be suicide on the tiny windy roads they consider highways). More speed traps than cafes – we passed about 10 in the 500 km we drove in the country.
Bosnia cats know how to beg.The street cats that infiltrate the restaurant patios could put any dog to shame.
roatia It was the end of a week-long stint at this oasis of a campground in the town of Bol on the island of Brač on the Dalmatian coast of Croatia. For us, it’s pretty far from home. That’s why I had to do a double-take when I pulled up the Space Star beside this VW Golf with Ontario plates that was parked at our campground. Looked pretty normal to me until I remembered where we were. Turns out this Croatian guy from Hamilton moved back home and decided to ship his car over the Atlantic. He never bothered to tell either Canadian or Croatian transport authorities. Strangely enough, the local cops never give him a hard time for having out-of-town plates. Apparently, having Ontario plates is almost as good as having Slovakian plates over here (so far people always seem to greet us with a bright smile and a friendly salutation in Slovakian when we pull up. We might have to sew Slovakian flags on our backpacks…hehe).
Back to the campground on Brač (Camp Kito). It’s a family-run joint. The wife is a Bosnian-born Serb and the husband is Croatian. No biggie. They get along so well that they manage to make their own wine, limoncello, walnut schnapps and olive oil. The cool thing is they make this stuff right there in the open (our tent was pitched underneath a canopy of grape vines). The wine is full-bodied, the limoncello actually has pulp in it, the schnapps is authentic, and the olive oil is truly organic (sorry mom, I wanted to ship some oil back to you but alas – the shipping was outrageous!) They also cook a traditional Balkan dinner every night. One thing that Elise and I love to do is paddle to secluded places, have lunch, then paddle back. So, we decided to show our new Austrian/Swiss friends in Croatia what paddling is all about (insert shout-out to Bettina and Christian here). We packed a lunch and some brewskies and rented four kayaks to take out on the (relatively) choppy waters of the Adriatic. Buyer beware. Three of the kayaks functioned no better than a survival raft made by Bear Grylls and I don’t think the fourth was a kayak at all! (it was actually a single-person sailboat for which they gave us a kayak paddle). Elise and I, the veteran Canadian paddlers, were sloshing around like flotsam while our new Euro friends were thinking “this is supposed to be fun?” I would have rather been paddling a piece of driftwood. Anyway, the secluded beach was found, pasta salad was consumed, brewskies got cracked, the socioeconomic policies of German-speaking Europe were contrasted with those of Canada, and we made it back alive.
We left Croatia for Mostar, Bosnia the other day…more on that to come. We'll also try to post some additional pics of our ten days on the Dalmatian coast.
One of the most difficult things I had to do while preparing for this trip was to part with all my plants.Anyone who knows me well knows that I am slightly ‘over-interested’ in house plants.I gave them all away to trusted friends, telling them all that if the plants died while I was away, that was just fine.Now that I’m far away, I can tell these trusted friends that was a lie…. I will be devastated if any of them die.So don’t forget to water!!!
The reason I am bringing up this odd topic is that I have found my plant paradise.Check out these pics.These are from the campground (Camp Kito) we are staying at on the island Brač in Croatia.Our tent is set up under a roof of grape vines, next to a grove of olive trees.Živjeli (‘Cheers’ in Croatian!) from the Adriatic!
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One thing that Elise and I love to do is paddle to secluded places, have lunch, then paddle back. So, we decided to show our new Austrian/Swiss friends in Croatia what paddling is all about (insert shout-out to Bettina and Christian here). We packed a lunch and some brewskies and rente
