Where: Budva – Kotor – Dobrota – Perast – Cetinje – Budva – Rose – Herceg Novi – (Dubrovnik – Split – Hvar – Split)
When: 23.6.09 – 1.7.09
Happy July everyone! In ten days I turn 22…
Legendary “Jewels of the Adriatic,” the coast of Montenegro and Croatia are visually stunning. Cliffs sweeping into sapphiric bays, gray castle ruins, yachts blasting birthday songs, red roofs and old maritime museums. Montenegro is more green, lush, mountainous, especially inland–while Croatia is a splattering of large islands and beaches made hazy by the sunshine.
Montenegro is somewhat overtaken by Balkan and Russian tourists, Aussies and Canadians passing through as well. Our first night, we got drunk on rakia and tequila in Budva with a bunch of Aussies and a random Dutch musician with a black tight vest. Next, it was off to the old town of Kotor, a beautiful port with medieval walls and gates, and snuck up onto the mountainside fortress to watch the nighttime lights. Nearby, a serenade of A Capella in Serbian. We found a cheap hostel in nearby Dobrota, this huge, crappy youth hostel whose crumbling paint chips betrayed its condemned status. But it was for 7 euros a night, hey. One night we busted an art gallery opening with the most disturbing, colorful paintings ever, as well as a house party in a bar. Ask me more about that night in person, it’s interesting, but not exactly suitable for internet view. ^.~
Days later, we ended up in the “Venice of Crna Gora” or Perast, boat hitchhiked to a nearby artificial island with a blue-capped church dedicated to Mary. Name of Our Lady of the Rocks. A short misbegotten detour to the vale town of Cetinje, gorgeous and misty, cupped in craggy mountains, but short of a cool monastery with the hand of St. John the Baptist and a shard of the original cross, nothing of interest there. Tried our best to make it to the National Park of Durmitor, but failed as there were no buses or cars going then, so retired back to Budva, where we stayed with a random lady who had a room in the middle of a car graveyard. That night was amazing, as we were seeking an elusive Folklore Festival (never found it by the way), we heard some fierce knocking on some glass. It was two Russian lawyers, in Montenegro for a conference (oh woe), who recognized us from the tour group in Our Lady of the Rocks, and decided to invite us for dinner. Seafood, cheese, prosciutto, salad, olives–delicious. In the background, a crazy awesome live guitarist with a smile that could break rocks. And, pertaining to Slavic hospitality, it is rude to offer to pay or refuse to drink the 10 rums and whiskeys ordered. So, a little later, somewhat tipsy, dancing to the Gipsy Kings in the middle of a square near an outdoor bar. We walked 1 kilometer on the beach until they paid for a taxi home. YAY!
The day after was even more incredible. We chanced to be picked up by a Serbian jazz bar owner who invited us to check out his previous closed-down scuba diving business. Due to the Montenegro break from Serbia, he had been kicked out of his peninsula and forced to retire to the streets of Beograd. This guy drove us all the way to a tiny beachside town, Rose, on the Lustica Peninsula, where we swam and enjoyed food, conversation, and the mildest white wine I have ever tasted. Our Serbian friend, named Sasha by the way, talked about everything and nothing, hilariously cheering beer after beer, and invited us to visit his jazz bar in Beograd. I can’t wait!
The road calling us, however, we took the 5 o’clock ferry to the steep, but spectacular, town of Herceg Novi, and caught a long ride to Dubrovnik. Actually leaving to Mostar right not, however, but as time is running out, the story of Dalmatia will have to wait for another time. Adja ciao~!
