This is part 4 of our Pushing Past Fear: Journey through Albania and Montenegro series. In this post, we explore Durmitor National Park and I make a bad decision.
Comfortable living in Kolašin
Following our Rural Homestays in Montenegro, Eric and I splurge on an apartment in Kolašin for two nights. It’s a quiet ski resort town with a grocery store next door, a washing machine, comfortable mattress, and a real living room. We’ve only had hard wood chairs for seating the past week and I will never again take for granted the luxury of upholstered furniture. Apparently my threshold for discomfort stops at comfortable seating.
Our apartment manager is very tall and Eric remarks that he looks like a basketball player. Turns out, he is and his brother plays for the NBA’s Chicago Bulls. Interesting people and buildings can be found here and my favorite is the Spomen-Dom. This neglected concrete complex was built in 1975 to commemorate liberation struggles during WWII and you can read a fascinating history about it here.
Hiking Komovi Park
Our guide Zeljko picks us up in his red VW van with a California sticker. He has never been to California but this van is 35 years old and must have an interesting life story. Zeljko is a fully trained mountaineering guide who also guides during ski season and serves on a rescue team. He lives in Kolašin and is a professor of health and fitness and his wife is a professor of languages who is studying to be a librarian.
We’re hiking 7.4 miles today in Komovi Park. While not physically demanding, this is a technically challenging hike because of the back section which crosses the mountain on the side along a narrow ridge with a deep vertical drop and loose rock.
Eric has a fear of heights so the Komovi hike is a huge accomplishment for him. The weather is perfect, we have the park to ourselves and Zeljko is excellent company. This is my favorite hiking trail on this trip so far!
Scenic drive along Tara Canyon
The day we leave Kolašin begins with meeting our driver, Drago. I was picturing him to be a large man with long hair and dark simmering eyes, maybe I should break from the fantasy novels. Drago looks nothing like a dragon lord, he’s a young svelte man with a shaved head and respectful demeanor. He is the first person we’ve seen here who wears a seat belt and he’s the silent type, so our ride to Zabljak is quiet. It’s also the most comfortable drive we’ve had since we arrived in the Balkans because his Land Cruiser is an automatic that actually has shocks. We get him talking about skiing, he works as a steward on the ski slopes in winter.
Drago is taking us through the scenic route along Tara Canyon and Durmitor National Park. Tara Canyon is 47 miles long, 3,960 ft deep. It is the second deepest canyon in the world, just after Grand Canyon which is 6,090 ft deep. We stop for photos and coffee at Tara Bridge where we watch zipliners crossing the canyon.
As we arrive in Zabljak, Drago offers to bring us to a supermarket, which should be our clue that something is amiss. We assume he’s just being nice so we buy snacks and bananas. We learn later that we were supposed to buy something for dinner because apparently the location we are staying at these next two nights isn’t offering dinner. But no worries, our Travel Twitch team takes good care of us.
Homestay in Zabljak
We arrive at household Krstajic and Militza, the young daughter, is able to communicate with us in English. We’ve arrived early so they are still cleaning our room, which is fine because we sit outside and enjoy a cup of coffee. Mr. Krstajic speaks no English but communicates his pride in his cow and his property. He introduces us to his dog, which I think is part dire wolf and is obviously not fond of strangers. Our room is very nice. It has a comfortable couch, nice shower, a mini fridge and kitchenette. Most of the outdoor structures and furniture have been built by Mr. Krstajic, including a picnic table creatively repurposed from an old wagon.
Walking Durmitor National Park
Our guide for the Durmitor region is a young woman. Vera picks us up shortly after we finish our coffee and we head to a “short walk” around Black Lake which in the Balkans translates to a 5 mile hike. It’s a beautiful lake, shaped like a figure 8, that shifts between blue, green or gray, depending on what angle you are viewing it. Vera points out all of the places that are waterfalls in the spring when the snow melts.
We are in Durmitor National Park, a UNESCO site, so as expected there are quite a few people here but Vera says it’s a quiet day compared to August when tourists overcrowd Zabljak. Vera leads mountain hikes in the warmer months and is a ski instructor during the winter. She’s also one of the friendliest people we’ve ever met, easy to converse with and instantly puts us at ease.
We tell Vera about our misunderstanding with dinner plans and she offers to drop us off at a restaurant which is just 15 minutes uphill from our lodging. The food is excellent at Etno Selo Sljeme but prices are high and the servers are unapproachable and reserved. I’m missing our homestay dinners served with warmth and genuine hospitality.
The weather is ominous so we might be walking back in the rain, but the clouds clear just as we finish dinner and it is one of the prettiest walks we take in Montenegro. The valley and farmland outside of town is absolutely breathtaking. Wide open fields of grass, rolling hills on one side and magnificent mountains on the other, interspersed with cows, sheep and small houses. There are storms all around us as we walk so it is windy and you can hear the wind moving through the grass. As we would say in America, “this is God’s country.”
Close encounter with dairy
Back at the house Militza discusses breakfast with us and she and her mother show us how to make kajmak. Her mother is making a batch now in a small, warm shed with an old wood heated stove. The kajmak is in a giant pot and once cooked it will be moved to a bowl and placed on the shelf for two days, at which point it is then moved into a tall wooden pot wrapped with cheesecloth.
A little while later Militza brings us a tray of freshly baked bread hot out of the wood burning stove, along with a fresh batch of kajmak and warm milk. The first taste of that fresh cow’s milk brings so many memories of my childhood, not just when we lived in the country and had milk cows but also the eggnog that my mother makes every Christmas. Eric warns me not to drink it, since we don’t know how well it has been pasteurized, but I don’t heed his advice. I drink the entire glass of that warm creamy milk.
The aftermath
My indulgence of the milk quickly comes back to haunt me. I wake the next morning with violent abdominal cramps and spend most of that day in the bathroom or lying exhausted in bed. Instead of spending the day hiking up Durmitor, Vera takes Eric to the local supermarket to buy food and medicine. After copious amounts of mint tea, I’m able to eat some bread and broth. It will be another 14 days before my digestive system returns to normal. Mornings are hell and I have to wake up 3 hours before we leave just to give my body time to calm down.
The following morning isn’t much better but I’m able to eat some of the delicious breakfast that Mrs. Krstajic has prepared. I especially love the little cake she calls koh which is three layers of light toffee and cream, similar to tiramisu.
Vera is keeping us to a light walk since I’m still questionable. She takes us to see Devil’s Lake and Fish Lake, where the wind is so loud we can barely hear each other speak. I have to chase my hat as it flies off my head, but the expansive views and gorgeous water is well worth the wind.
We walk uphill where Vera shows us ancient monuments that date back to the 12th-16th centuries. They’re called stećci and while no bones have been found here they are thought to be memorial tombs. The site we’re at is called the “Greek Graveyard” and only has 49 stećci but Durmitor has another site with 300 stećci.
We return to Vera’s sporty blue VW Passat and head to Ethno Village where we’ll be staying for the next two nights. This drive takes us through the most scenic section of Durmitor National Park, known as Durmitor Ring, which in my opinion is the most dramatically beautiful area in Montenegro. And that is saying something because every square inch of Montenegro is surrounded by natural beauty. We MUST return someday to hike this entire park!
We stop for coffee at Ethno Village Milogora and I leave my permanent mark on Montenegro by placing a Trips to Walkabout sticker on the window, next to dozens of stickers from biker clubs, hiking tours and bloggers from all over the world.
Exiting Durmitor, Vera makes a few more stops to show us Piva Lake Canyon. We can see the mountains in Bosnia-Herzgovinia and they look stunning. Vera tells us that young people crossed the border via these mountains during the 2020 pandemic because Montenegro had more relaxed rules.
We make one last stop, a short hidden trail to a collection of large boulders and a viewpoint looking down at Komarnica Canyon. Vera updates us on efforts to protect Komarnica from development projects that are currently threatening the biodiversity of this region. Fighting against new roads and hydroelectric plants will be tough.
We end our day at Etno Selo Montenegro, where we join Vera for dinner outside. She orders kačamak and while I would love to gorge myself on this traditional cheese dish, I know I’ll suffer for it later so I restrict myself to one bite. As expected, it’s delicious.
The Ethno Village is challenging to describe. What happens when you combine quirky humor with a bit of historical whimsy and set it in one of the most beautiful locations? You get Etno Selo Montenegro. This place is many things:
- A peaceful oasis at the center of a cottage industry of organic produce and homemade goods
- An outdoor museum of Yugoslavian culture and quirky artwork
- A sanctuary for dogs and cats (unofficially)
- An epicenter for environmental advocates and weird events such as the Longest Bedtime Challenge.
Our stay coincides with the Longest Bedtime Challenge, so we are lucky witnesses to what has to be the most bizarre competition in the world. Using humor to offset a common stereotype that Montenegro people are lazy, Etno Selo’s owner hosts this annual contest to see who can remain in bed for the longest consecutive days. There are currently 4 remaining contestants who have been laying down for 39 days. They look so bloody miserable, I don’t have the heart to take a photo, but their families are here and seem to be having fun encouraging their loved one to victory.
Two of the contestants end up sharing the prize money after lying down for 50 days at Etno Selo Montenegro.
It’s an interesting counterpoint that as I observe these young people voluntarily giving up their mobility and choosing to put their health in jeopardy that my body feels under attack, not just physically but emotionally. Self-doubt pushes through my normal confidence, whispering that maybe I’m not cut out for a travel career.
Who wants a travel writer who tires easily and doesn’t always feel adventurous? Who wants to follow the advice of a travel advisor focused on walking adventures when sometimes all I want to do is stay in bed and read a book?
I never question my decision to quit library work, but I do begin to doubt my desire for long-term travel. Maybe this trip is exactly what Eric and I needed. I remind myself that I began this year with a commitment to be open to new experiences and self-growth. If that means being more realistic about my dreams of being a full-time global nomad, then I must remain open to that. This particular journey has already revealed that I have much to shed in terms of self-expectations. If I truly want freedom, I have to acknowledge the dissonance between who I think I should be versus who I really am.
I need to explore the world on my own terms.
Stay tuned for Making Friends in Bar Montenegro, the final chapter in our Balkans journey (for now).
2 Comments
Everything about those last few sentences is my constant struggle. You nailed that…
Thanks Darlene, it helps hearing similar emotions from others. It’s funny how the brain knows others out there are experiencing similar doubts and challenges, but it’s still so much more comforting to have that knowledge confirmed. To feel validated and “seen” is such a strong human need, and that’s hard for me to admit sometimes because I value emotional strength. I pride myself on it, which is why I’m trying to be more vulnerable about it.