This is the conclusion of our story about Pushing Past Fear: A Journey through Albania and Montenegro, I hope you’ve enjoyed wandering the Balkans with us.
Our new friend Nikola
We have a new guide today who will be with us for the remainder of our time in Montenegro. Nikola is a tall good looking man in his 20s with an easy going personality. I’m secretly nicknaming him Baywatch because he made the mistake of telling us he’s a lifeguard and, well, he’s easy on the eyes. We climb into his tiny red Citreon and temper our expectations for today because it’s raining and windy. I tell Nikola that we’re here to just enjoy the ride. He smiles and responds that Rade (his boss) told him we were chill and this seems to ease any worries he may have had about trying to please these American tourists.
Smoked Meats & Crazy Roads
Our first destination is Kod Pera na Bukovicu, an 1881 family run inn and restaurant famous for its smoked meats and homemade beverages. There’s a large tour group of older French tourists and just after we arrive a small group of military men arrive, so it’s busy. Our host Djuro communicates easily with all of his guests in various languages and he is obviously very good at what he does. An assortment of his best smoked meats, along with cheese, bread and rakija keeps us satisfied while we wait for the crowds to depart so we can get a quick tour of his smokehouse.
We enter a small dark room attached to the inn. Large purple flowers are drying on the wall, Djuro says he makes tea with these. There’s a piece of dried meat hanging from the ceiling that is 2 yrs old and he says can be preserved for up to 5 years. The technique he describes hasn’t changed much over the centuries, basically starting with a good product then patiently giving it months to cure and lots of fresh mountain air which he has in abundance up here on the edge of a cliff looking down at Njegusi.
Njegusi is one of the loveliest old villages in Montenegro but unfortunately the weather is awful and there is no point in stopping to walk around. Nikola takes us along the Serpentine Road which connects Njegusi to Kotor, one of the most scenic and dangerous drives in Montenegro. Nikola has already warned us about the hairpin turns and shares the horror stories of what it’s like to drive this route in the summer. Locals avoid it during the summer months for this reason, but we should be ok since it is the off season.
And we would have been, had there not been a wreck at the base of the road. Our first clue that something is wrong is when we pass two large buses that are precariously parked on the edge of the road. Then we’re stuck in a long line of cars, informed by a man who is stopping at vehicles to tell us that there is a wreck ahead and we are waiting for some large vehicles to pass coming from the opposite direction. He is asking everyone to maneuver as close to the edge as possible so they can pass. We understand now why Nikola brought his small car because we are hugging the rock wall and it’s still a close call when the camper vans squeeze past.
Once past the serpentine, Nikola is able to relax more and he begins to share his thoughts on the coastal towns which we are now beginning to pass through. Kotor and Budva, with their beautifully preserved old towns and exclusive resorts. He doesn’t have to tell me what my eyes can see and I already know before visiting that these favored coastal towns would not be my choice for a homebase. Eric and I prefer less crowded towns with family-friendly neighborhoods.
Making ourselves at home in Bar
We drive past Sutomore where he and Rade grew up. Many Serbians escaping the Balkan conflicts of the 1990s settled here. We arrive in Bar, which will be our home for the next six days. Our apartment is tiny, the size of my college dorm room. I’m not one to complain but I do know it’s not going to be comfortable for this many days so I reach out to Travel Twitch and before I know it we’ve been upgraded to a larger room with a kitchenette and enough space to unpack, relax and unwind.
We’re surrounded by small apartment buildings and residential homes with gardens bursting with fruit. I see pomegranates, kiwi, figs and grapes all from our window. There is construction all around but it seems to be well designed and will be nice once done. All modern architecture, so while Bar may not be the epicenter for Instagrammers, it is certainly a good place to live.
We spend our first day walking the promenade of Bar, watching locals and tourists swimming in the sea and somehow sunbathing on the hard rocky beach. This is definitely a beach where you want good water shoes, because it is nearly impossible to walk on, but there are plenty of cafes with comfy seating and beach chairs for rent. There are shady trees throughout the promenade and a woodland park equipped with outdoor gym equipment.
Nikola joins us for an evening walk around town and adds his personal notes and local perspective. We learn about King Nikola as we pass his summer palace and Baywatch Nikola takes us past the boat docks for the best sunset view. I happily snap photos of old boats and we all agree that we like this boat yard because it’s a mix of small simple watercraft along with large fancy yachts and everything in between. A place for everyone.
The promenade comes alive at night, families with small children are enjoying the delights of roasted corn and carnival games. Children zip past us on electric scooters and toy cars. I even see a toy Bentley, these kids are high rollers! It’s 9:00 on a school night and children are outside on the playground while their parents visit. Just like Albania, these evening walks are my favorite tradition in the Balkans!
Perast & Our Lady of the Rocks
Nikola picks us up for what should be a short scenic drive to Kotor and Perast but ends up being much longer because traffic is insane. We pass through Kotor which is already full of people. In hindsight we should have started there first. But we’re on a mission to see Our Lady of the Rocks in Perast, a man-made island with a beautiful Catholic Church. Just a few feet away on the bay lies the naturally occurring Sveti Đorđe Island (St George), home to a 12th century Benedictine monastery.
Perast is lovely, a little touristy in terms of the shops along the water, but it’s a beautiful boardwalk with gorgeous views of Kotor Bay. It’s easy to find a boat here, there are water taxis and smaller boats for leisure tours around the bay. Nikola has instructions to “look for a woman” which I find hilarious but it’s accurate because sure enough there is one woman taking tickets for a water taxi and hers look like the best options for reaching the island. It’s a quick ride and we don’t spend much time on the island, just enough to wander around and inside the church, to marvel at the intricate artwork. I especially like the silver votive tablets, an art form I’ve never seen before.
It seems people have finally realized the benefits of traveling off season. Parking is a nightmare and it’s Wednesday in late September. Nikola says he’s never seen it like this at this time of year. In Perast we try one parking spot but then realize it’s not the one we want, and I’m glad because I don’t want to give them my money. They charge 2 euro for women to use the toilet while men only pay 1 euro. Sexist thugs. So instead we all use the gender equitable toilets on the island, which doesn’t have running water, so a bathroom attendant pours bottled water over our hands.
Walking Old Town Kotor
As a UNESCO site, Eric and I are not surprised to see so many people in Old Town Kotor, but I guess Montenegrins are still adjusting to the new normal of so many non-summer tourists. We wait in line for 20 minutes for a parking spot to open. It’s not too many people, however, and we’re able to leisurely wander the narrow alleyways and take photos without crowds. We pay the 8 euros to climb the old 9th century fortress walls, grateful that they have steps because the original path consists of smooth rocks so polished to be dangerously slippery.
Nikola points out to us how well designed this fortress is and why it was so hard for the Italians and other forces to conquer Kotor. Walking up these paths with their strong walls full of gun holes and mini fortresses which would have held soldiers, it’s easy to see why the fortress held.
Our original plan is just to walk up to the church, but we continue on and almost reach the top fortress. Heat exhaustion and dehydration prevent me from reaching the top, however. We’ve walked 1300 steps, high enough to have amazing views and I can see the fortress just above me.
We return to Old Town and part ways with Nikola so that Eric and I can wander around to take photos. We visit with a woman in front of St. Tryphon’s Cathedral where she’s demonstrating the art of Dobrota lace, a form of lacework made from the dull point of a simple sewing needle. It can take up to 5-6 hours to craft 1-6 cm.
I get suckered into a conversation with a friendly Turkish rug merchant who is originally from Cypress. He shows us his beautiful rugs and they truly are exquisite. Of course I know we’re not going to purchase one and I’m sure this seasoned merchant knows that, but we still go through the age-old dance of negotiations. We end our exploration of Old Town with a much-needed cafe stop.
The illness that won’t go away
It’s day 4 in Bar and I am feeling defeated this morning. I got dressed and was full of energy, ready to hike up Mt. Vrsuta. I gave myself 3 hours to get ready so that my stomach would have time to calm down, but the violent cramping and chills begin about 30 minutes before we’re scheduled to meet Nikola. Eric is hiking without me.
The consolation is that at least Eric will get to experience it and take photos for me, but this sucks.
I comfort myself with the knowledge that I’m listening to a teacher play a beautiful little tune on a recorder that sounds like something you’d hear in The Hobbit. There’s a school next door to our apartment, the building is painted yellow and blue which should have been our clue that this is a new temporary school for Ukrainian refugees. It’s a joy to see the interactions between the adults and children throughout the day, to see some normalcy, a reminder that the human spirit is capable of overcoming trauma. It also shuts down my pity party, knowing some digestive discomfort doesn’t compare to the pain these families have experienced.
Cafe stop at Old Town Bar
Meanwhile, Eric and Nikola explore Old Town Bar and stop for the best Turkish coffee he’s had on the trip. There’s also fresh pomegranate juice and Eric wistfully thinks how much I would enjoy this. Cafes and businesses in Old Town Bar heavily reflect the Ottoman influence. Vendors are selling olive oil, fresh olives and pomegranate juice on the streets. Not far from here, Bar boasts the oldest olive tree in Europe — it’s over 2,000 years old!
Leaving Old Town Bar, Nikola takes Eric to a hidden waterfall and natural spring. Eric describes the road as “harrowing” with a steep incline and sharp drop-off, which is why they walk the remainder of the road instead of driving it. Nikola describes this little walk as “just a bit uphill, to see the waterfall.” His “just around the corner” is repeated at least four times as they discover new construction has relocated his special shortcut. To Nikola’s credit, it is a lovely hidden gem, well worth the walk.
Leaving the waterfall, they head to the real hike for the day – up Mt. Vrsuta. Google Maps, which Nikola calls “the liar,” gives them some navigation trouble but they eventually find the trailhead. Eric describes this day as “his Montenegro pilgrimage.” He began the day already exhausted from our long journey, so the hike up a steep mountain with loose rock in full sun with bees and hornets the size of hummingbirds is certainly an endurance test for him. They climb 3,450 ft to reach the top, which offers a 360 degree view of the Montenegrin coast and mountains.
Walking Old Town Budva
No hiking the next day, just sightseeing. We’re heading to Budva, where we wander through cobblestone streets within the walls of Old Town, which is over 2,500 years old.
There are artisans next to the church, a painter, a woman making bracelets and a man playing a clavicimbalum (a Renaissance precursor to the piano).
We meander our way back to a cafe on the beach, where we nearly fall asleep over our drinks. Nikola is recovering from a slight hangover from the previous night celebrations when he proposed to his girlfriend.
Nikola stops on the return to Bar to show us the tiny church of St. Sava atop a hill overlooking Sveti Stefan, a private island resort. The homes up here are noticeably bigger and more luxurious, and he tells us this is a community of Russians.
Later that evening Eric and I walk the promenade and watch the sunset. A pair of teenage girls with their rollerblades have stopped beside us to watch this daily marvel and all along the path we can see people of all ages doing the same. Some intrepid people are walking into the ocean for an evening swim despite how choppy the waves look.
I’m delighted when we stumble upon a community choir singing a mix of traditional tunes and what sounds like classical sacred hymns. All this as small children zoom past on their motorized scooters and toy cars.
We spend our last day in Montenegro with Nikola and his new fiancé Ana, who also works for Travel Twitch. Nikola loves sharing everything about his home and culture. My favorite tradition is what he describes as slava. He tells us that each family has a patron saint and they gather each year to celebrate the feast day of that saint. He and Ana’s families share the same patron, St. Petka, protector of women and children. A perfect saint for this couple, especially Nikola who reminds me of my nephew Noah. A fun-loving, gentle soul with a perpetually optimistic spirit who places a high value on family.
We’ve been hearing music throughout our trip but Nikola is the first to introduce us to modern Serbian music. Using Ana’s extensive playlist, we listen to Sanja Vucic, the girl pop band Hurricane, and rap by Grse as they drive us to Skadar Lake. We park, walk under a bridge and walk past a dozen stands that look to be a farmers market but on close inspection I realize they’re all boat tours. Sure enough, there are boats everywhere along the canal, in every shape and size. “How on earth do you choose which boat to take,” I ask Nikola and he smiles with smug delight. We walk to the end where someone is waiting for us and next thing I know I’m shaking hands with Stevo Djurovic.
Mr. Djurovic owns most of the boats here and he’ll be piloting us personally in his beautiful wooden craft with a thatched reed roof. He speaks no English (as far as I know) but is completely at ease letting Nikola translate. He’s been doing this for 36 years and when he’s not giving tours he is part of a team that counts the birds every January. The boat tour is slow and relaxing, especially since we’ve been imbibing Stevo’s homemade wine and rakija, along with priganice and honey.
We ask about the pelicans and he says there used to be only 4 pelicans left but now there are around 300. Water level fluctuations caused pelican eggs to flood so they built floating islands and this is what saved them from extinction within the park. Fishermen hate the pelicans, however, as they compete for the same food and apparently pelicans are bullies to other birds. Several endangered species live or migrate here, like the black cormorant we see shaking its wings in a bizarre manner. Stevo says this is because it has no endocrine system and can’t regulate its own temperature.
After the boat ride, we return to Bar and Ana drives us above the town for coffee at Ranc Mujica, a beautiful little inn and cafe perched high atop the hills overlooking Bar. Sadly it’s closed but we can see why the drive up here would be worth it. The view is excellent and there are cozy swings, a friendly pony and some rabbits. We drive back to Bar seeking a sea-side cafe, but Eric isn’t feeling well so we part ways. It’s hard to say goodbye to Nikola, he feels like a younger brother and he treats us like family. It’s humbling how open-hearted everyone has been throughout this journey, but Nikola especially has the gift. He is completely open with his emotions and is refreshingly candid. He and Ana make a beautifully balanced couple and we feel privileged to have witnessed this momentous time in their lives.
Eric wakes up with a sore throat the morning we return to Albania. Thankfully it is a quiet ride, our driver Marko doesn’t speak English. His girlfriend Ivanka does but she’s not into making conversation. It’s a pretty countryside route, with farms and orchards of pomegranate trees overflowing with fruit. People are selling fresh produce along the road.
All is well until we reach the border. Something isn’t right because the guards aren’t handing back our passports and Marko is arguing (respectfully) with them. Apparently Marko is supposed to have a “piece of paper” that costs 20 euros. Border control tells him he can get the paper at a restaurant just a few feet away. We park at the restaurant and sit while Marko and his 8-month pregnant girlfriend wander around from building to building trying to find where they can purchase this elusive document.
Next thing we know Marko hops in the car, no Ivanka in sight, speeds past the cars in line at border control and runs out of the car to retrieve our passports. We never see a paper in his hand so we still have no idea what happened, other than Ivanka’s direct quote “Albanians always want their money.” Passports safely returned, we pick up Ivanka who has been waiting at the border insurance office. Eric is not looking well and he falls asleep. I zen out, gazing at the mountains but not really seeing them. Focusing one step at a time. Get to hotel. Hope for the best. Everything else is beyond my control.
The morning we’re supposed to fly to Milan for a week on the Italian lakes, it’s obvious that Eric is not well enough to fly. I’ve already canceled the flight and Italy accommodations when I go down to reception to ask for 2 more nights, thinking that buys us time for him to recover and for us to change our flights. When the receptionist tells me they’re fully booked I almost start crying. She must sense it because she looks panicked. I tell her about Eric and plead for any room, just please don’t make me move him to another hotel. She tells me she will do what she can and let me know if a room becomes available. And that’s it, once again there is nothing I can do but hope for the best.
I text Eric, giving him as much warning as I can that he may want to get up and take a shower and be ready to move to a different hotel. I then go to breakfast, find my zen once again while sipping coffee, finding joy in my first American style drip coffee I have had since leaving home and it is a much appreciated comfort at this point. I sneak some breakfast food up to Eric and we look up hotels nearby and begin looking at flights. We have to get to Frankfurt, that’s where our long haul flight back to Houston departs. We decide it’s best if we can get to Frankfurt as soon as possible so we’ll book a flight from Tirana tomorrow. Two hours later, I make my way back to reception and ask if we can have just one night. Some discussion and clicking ensues and they find a room. They have one that hasn’t been used in awhile due to some minor repair issues but at least Eric won’t have to move far. I am grateful beyond measure! The rest of the day is spent changing flights and booking a hotel near the Frankfurt airport.
We spend a night at the Hilton connected to Frankfurt Airport, a splurge for us but well worth our mental and physical health at this point. Eric is still sick but at least he now has enough energy to get out of bed. I unfortunately wake up with a sore throat the morning of our flight home. At the Lufthansa gate, our flight is delayed by an hour because they’ve overbooked and no one wants to volunteer to give up their seats. We hit bad turbulence again on the flight and when we arrive in Houston the line for customs is the longest we’ve ever seen at this airport.
By the time we reach our car, I can barely hold up my head which is now stuffed with congestion and an inflamed throat. Eric doesn’t look much better. It’s another hour drive to his parents’ house, where we crash for the night before making our way home to Louisiana the following day. On top of what I’m fairly certain is COVID, the stomach issues that have plagued me since drinking that milk two weeks prior have not gone away. I spend two days on a liquid diet, followed by an aggressive cleansing regimen prescribed by my doctor that purges my body of everything! It takes a full week at home for Eric and I to recover.
As I look back on this journey from the comfort of my home, it’s obvious to me that my subconscious knew this trip would be challenging. Had I succumbed to that fear, we would have missed a month’s worth of memories, new friends and experiences (both good and bad). The discomforts of being physically ill throughout the trip and pushing us outside our comfort zones allowed Eric and I to grow in wisdom, confidence and self-awareness. That is the very definition of transformational travel.
Does this mean I’m ready to jump back on a plane right away? Hell no! I need at least a month with my familiar foods, a car and the warm embrace of family.
Before I close the chapter on our journey through Albania and Montenegro, I must convey how incredibly grateful I am for the beautifully-crafted itinerary and support that Rade Bogavac and his team at Travel Twitch DMC provided. It’s unfortunate that illness prevented us from participating in everything they planned for us, but if I ever get sick again while traveling I hope we are as well cared for as we were by the Travel Twitch family. Without them, we would have never experienced the true heart and soul of the Balkans.
