Montenegro, Sveti Stefan and Budva

The next stage of the drive took us through and out of the National Park and on to the city of Cetinje, which, for a big city, had a curious absence of helpful road signs and we drove around the same streets several times looking for the main coast road. Cetinje didn’t look especially exciting on a lazy Sunday afternoon, a old-fashioned sort of place with wide, tree-lined boulevards and grand public buildings, many of them fallen into disuse. Apparently the Government is currently moving some administrative buildings back into Cetinje, but for now it a backwater ghost town, with a sleepy sun-baked air and once we had received reliable instructions from a taxi driver on how to get out we drove straight through.

We were back on a main road now where the drivers were able to demonstrate their full repertoire of recklessness and we were glad when we reached the coast and our first destination, the picturesque island hotel complex of Sveti Stefan just south of Budva. This former fishing village perches on an outcrop of rock, connected to the mainland by a causeway. In the 1960s the entire village was converted to a luxury hotel, with a hundred-odd guest rooms in the original stone cottages.

Inside, apparently, there are sculpted gardens and narrow alleyways overhung with flowers, two small chapels and wonderful views out to sea. The hotel was once the preserve of the rich and famous, the likes of Princess Margaret and Sophia Loren feature in the guestbook. I say apparently though because after we had parked the car and walked to the entrance we were turned back by a security guard who informed us that the whole place was closed for renovations. We had planned to spend an hour or so here so we would have had time to stop in Cetinje after all but now we had to move on to Budva slightly ahead of schedule.

Budva is Montenegro’s busiest holiday resort and as soon as we drove in I was glad we weren’t staying there. There was a lot of construction and road works because Montenegro is impatient to rebuild its tourist industry that disintegrated after the war and I think they plan for this place to be their Benidorm or Lido de Jesilo because the place was full of noisy cafés and tacky bars and the holidaymakers there wore bright colours, rude tee shirts and had tattoos. In my opinion this is probably the last thing that Montenegro needs, I didn’t like it but we stopped anyway to take a look.

Actually it was much nicer around the harbour area but it was still a mixture of traditional, elegant modern and horrible holiday grunge as though the city hasn’t yet fully made up its mind what it wants to be. The old town however was delightful and although I say old town it technically isn’t because Budva is well known for the earthquake it suffered in 1979, after which the whole town had to be rebuilt and it took eight years for it to be completely finished. There were some nice shady streets and a fortress wall (€3 admission) but it was small and that was about all so we left, sat down for an afternoon drink in a bar where the waiters were more interested in the World Cup match on the television than the customers (Montenegro’s close neighbour Serbia were playing Ghana) and after a beer we paid and left for the return journey.

Once again, due to the shortage of road signs, I had a bit of trouble finding the right road out of the city but eventually we groped and guessed our way out and found the road back to Kotor where we stopped at a supermarket for evening alcohol supplies and then returned along the coast road that we had used earlier this morning. In a little village called Prčan overlooking the town of Dobrota on the other side of the bay we stopped for a drink in a bar and commiserated with the local Serbian football supporters when Ghana scored in the last minute and stole the game 1-0. After that we dawdled along the coast road, annoying anyone else who happened to be on the road at the same time and then caught the ferry back to Kamaria for a second evening at the Casa del Mare where we started with a game of two of cards where I continued a dazzling winning streak that had started on the outward flight and a couple of Niksickos on the balcony.

Montenegro, Lovcen National Park

We had another busy day planned today and quite a long drive so we woke early and after breakfast set off in the car towards the National Park of Lovcen with a plan to go from there to the coast and visit Sveti Stefan and Budva.

This time, to reduce the journey time we took the short ten-minute ferry ride from Kamaria across the narrowest part of the Bay, the Verige strait and once back on dry land we choose the slower but more scenic coast road to Kotor. This was very picturesque but as the driver I couldn’t fully appreciate it because the road was so awful and the drivers so bad that I had to keep my wits about me at all times. The best description I can find for Montenegrin drivers is frightening, terrifying even, because they are completely reckless and crazy. Seat belts are rarely worn and speed limits are almost always ignored, thirty means fifty, forty means sixty and so on. ‘No Overtaking’ signs mean leave it until the last moment and take a risk, ‘Give Way’ means keep going and ‘Stop’ means ‘It’s up to you!’

Eventually we reached the southern outskirts of Kotor and drove through the blighted parts of the city well away from the main tourist centre and then took a sharp turn to the right to leave the main highway and join the mountain road to the country’s old capital of Cetinje. At first the road climbed slowly and swayed through the trees at the first stages of the climb and it wasn’t especially attractive either, as we drove through a succession of gypsy camps, rubbish tips and abandoned clutter in the lay-bys. As we climbed it began to improve however and the road became more exciting and hazardous as it lunged like a roller-coaster through hair-pin bends that became more frequent and progressively tighter as we went up. Luckily there wasn’t a lot of traffic to deal with because this road was not wide enough for two cars and it was certain that a Montenegrin motorist would not have given way.

Along the way we stopped as often as we could to admire the great views which although it was hazy and the sunshine was gently diffused were still stunning. From this height we could see that the bay is composed of several smaller broad bays, linked together by narrower channels, which forms one of the finest natural deep water harbours in Europe. Spread out below us was the Bay of Tivat and a small naval port, currently being transformed into a state of the art Super Yacht Marina called Porto Montenegro and beyond that the Bay of Herceg Novi, which guards the main entrance to the Bay of Kotor. The inner bays that we had driven around yesterday are the Bay of Risan to the northwest and the Bay of Kotor to the southeast. Directly below us, on the landward side, the long walls running from the fortified old town of Kotor to the castle of Saint John were now as far below our feet as they were above our heads the day before.

Once again there were a number of road signs that had been used for target practice and in places the drive seemed remote and edgy and I had visions of being held up at gunpoint by bandits but I didn’t share this scaremongering piece of information. I did regret not bringing a mobile phone out between us however.

When we reached the top we were at nearly one thousand seven hundred metres (three hundred metres higher than Ben Nevis) and the road flattened out as we entered the Lovcen National Park and drove across a green plateau criss-crossed with limestone fissures and craggy rocks and wild meadows full of flowers and butterflies. It didn’t occur to me that the roads could get any worse but sure enough they did as they became narrower and more pot holed and sometimes with great areas of the tarmac missing altogether. This didn’t slow the Montenegrins down at all and they still continued to speed around and I became convinced that some of them simply pointed their cars at us, closed their eyes and accelerated.

At a confusing cross roads there were local people selling the local delicacies of smoked ham and sir cheese and I had to stop for directions. We were close to our destination now, Njeguši, the origins of the Montenegrin royal family of Petrović and as we climbed the final stretch we passed winter snow now in its final rapid thaw. Thousands of people make a National pilgrimage here to the Mausoleum of Njegoš and most of them were here today because parking was a nightmare. We eventually found a spot and then climbed the four hundred and forty steps to the top for more stunning views. We didn’t pay the €3 to go in however because we suspected that there might not be an awful lot to see and the guidebook confirmed later that this was a good decision.

On the way back down the mountain the roads were filling up with local people driving out for a picnic and at one blind bend a death wish driver in a white Volvo almost took us out but somehow managed to avoid us at the very last second so this necessitated a short stop for a drink to steady the nerves and an underpants check!

Montenegro, Kotor

At 35º centigrade it was extremely hot and Kim was full of complaints about the heat and the humidity and after we had walked through a slightly smelly street vegetable market that was sweltering in the sun we were pleased to go through the main gate of the old town and into the shaded cooler streets inside, Kim because she was out of the sun and me because she had stopped complaining.

It was busy inside because Kotor old town is quite small with a population of about five and a half thousand and it was playing host to the holidaymakers from the cruise liner and hundreds of others as well which temporarily more than doubled the population. Once again there was a distinct Italianate feel because the old Mediterranean port of Kotor is surrounded by an impressive city wall that was built by Republic of Venice and the Venetian influence remains dominant among the architectural styles around the main squares and up and down the tight twisting streets.

Kotor is a UNESCO World Heritage site and inside the walls the narrow sinuous streets took us past little picturesque shops, cafés, bars, antique monuments and cream stone buildings, balconies overflowing with flowers, washing lines full of immaculate laundry and the overwhelming smell of washing powder and fabric conditioner.

The old town of Kotor is wedged in between the rugged Bay and at the foot of the Lovćen massif mountain range directly under overhanging limestone cliffs of the mountains Orjen and Lovćen. At the back of the town there was an entrance to a demanding walk up the vertical mountain to visit the city walls but today it was too hot for us to even think about tackling it especially in flimsy sandals on slippy stones and paths with warnings of danger clearly signposted so we made do with admiring it all from sea level and then slipped back into the maze of streets and looked for a bar away from the blistering heat of the unrelenting sun which was reflecting off the buildings and bouncing about the paved squares and open spaces.

Kotor wasn’t quite what we were expecting it has to be said and Kim found it dirty and scruffy but I would describe it as no worse than untidy, the cruise ship spoilt it in a way because the old town was overcrowded and the hulking mass of the ship destroyed the charm of the seafront and the harbour. The cafés and bars were more expensive than I imagined they would be, certainly pricier than Croatia, but I thought the old town was nice enough and we sat in the shade in a corner of one of the small squares and had a beer before leaving.

We drove back the way that we had come around the Bay of Kotor, which is one of the most indented parts of the Adriatic Sea and, although technically it is actually a submerged river canyon, is sometimes called the southern-most fjord in Europe. By now it was late afternoon and the high cloud that was trapping in the heat and raising the humidity levels was beginning to clear and the water sparkled like parchment as the sky turned to a vibrant blue so we thought we might stop again in Perast and if all the coach tours had gone take the boat ride across to the islands.

One is called St. George island, and the other called Gospa od Škrpjela (Our Lady of the Rock), and each of them has a picturesque chapel. Gospa od Škrpjela is the only artificially built island in the Adriatic, with an area of three thousand square metres it was built upon a rock after two venetian sailors from Perast allegedly found a picture of the Virgin Mary on it in 1452.

A young man, who turned out to be from Sarajevo in Bosnia but studying in London and at home for the summer to make some money, offered us a ride across so we ignored the official tourist boats and accepted. He fired up the outboard engine and then we began the short crossing. About half way across the engine spluttered and cut out and for a few moments were completely becalmed as he fiddled with the fuel supply and grumbled about poor quality petrol (I made a mental note not to fill the car up in Montenegro) and it looked as though we would have to row the final part of the journey but he told us not to worry and after a few seconds he fired the engine back into life and we completed the journey.

We stayed on the island for half an hour but that was plenty long enough to see everything there was to see and when our transport returned he took us back to the mainland this time without incident. As we hopped off the boat he asked for €3 each and I thought this was fair and on the basis that the official boats charged 5 I gave him 4 and that made him smile,

It was still hot so while Kim cooled her feet off in the sea I went looking for a shop for alcohol supplies and when we had both finished our tasks at the end of a long day we agreed with each other that we liked Perast more than Kotor and then returned to the car and drove back around the Bay and returned to Kamaria and the hotel. The balcony which had been too hot earlier in the day when we had first arrived was comfortable now so we sat and watched the boats on the water and drank the Montenegrin beer called Niksicko, which despite its unpromising name was really rather nice.

Montenegro, The Bay of Kotor

Once past the border, in front of us we could see mountains again and after we passed through the busy and rather untidy city of Herceg Novi the road reached the sea and started to follow the winding coast line of the picturesque Bay of Kotor and in front of us now was one of the country’s biggest tourist attractions.

After a short while we arrived at the town of Kamaria and identified our hotel, the Casa del Mare, which was a brand new boutique hotel where we had one of the best rooms with an expansive view over the Bay, the main road and the recycling bins. After we had checked out the mini-bar prices and settled in we took some advice from the hotel owner on where to go and what to see we then set off to circumnavigate the Bay and drive to Kotor on the other side.

There was a ferry boat across the narrowest point of the Bay but we had decided to drive the forty kilometres or so and stop now and again along the way. The first stop came quite soon at a lay-by with a good view both east and west and looking across to the Italianate town of Perast, once an important independent Venetian ship building town but now a modern tourist trap. There was a jewellery stall in one corner of the lay-by and while Kim looked at sparkly things on chains I examined an information board about the Bay. In the middle were about twenty clear holes about the thickness of a pencil and on closer examination I realised that they were bullet holes. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end because whoever had been using it for target practice was clearly a very good shot and it occurred to me that I could be in someone’s rifle sights even as I stood there.

I was beginning to become aware that Montenegro might be a bit different to anywhere else that I had been before and I wasn’t inclined to hang around the lay-by any longer than necessary so I encouraged Kim to hurry up and leave and we carried on around the Bay of Risan passing yet more radar speed traps on the way to Perast.

Here was a place with a parking problem with a single road not wide enough for two cars to pass and no parking spaces. At the far end of the town I found one but before I had switched off the engine a waiter from a restaurant came out, explained that it was only for customers and shooed us off. The odd thing was that he didn’t take the trouble to ask if we wanted to use the restaurant and we might have done because it was just about lunchtime but not now after that unfriendly welcome.

So we drove back to the other end of the town and parked right on the edge and walked along the seafront and back to the centre. It was very quiet with very little activity and this was probably because now it was very hot indeed. We walked around the pretty centre with its church and a few shops, up and down some steps that didn’t go anywhere in particular and then found a place for a beer and a spot of lunch right on the water’s edge.

After a debate about whether or not to take a boat across the Bay to two islands with churches on them we decided against the €5 charge and as the time was getting on and lots of tourist coaches were turning up and overwhelming the town with visitors returned to the car and continued our journey. This took us through a string of attractive villages all around the seashore and towards the eastern end of the Bay where the backdrop was a wall of limestone mountain soaring over a thousand metres high and squeezing the towns and villages in between the rock and the sea.

My driving was continuing to irritate people and several times I was tooted and invited to pull over by motorists using hand signals that you won’t find in the Highway Code but I didn’t let this intimidate me and I continued sedately on, pulling over whenever I could to let agitated motorists pass me by.

Eventually we arrived in Kotor without incident and it was much bigger than I imagined it would be from the descriptions in the travel guides and there was a two thousand passenger cruise liner tied up at the dock which was so huge it dwarfed the town and looked sadly at out of place. We needed a car park and found one around the side of the town where a grumpy attendant gave us a ticket and explained the tariff and then we set off into the old town to explore.