We crossed from Albania into Montenegro at a remote location in order to avoid traffic on the main road. A sleepy border guard waved us through and we set off with hopes high for moderate grades and light traffic. Rounding our first corner and before us was what looked like an endless, 45 deg. hill. It turned out to be less than first impressions but it set the tone for the rest of this mountainous country. Oh shit…Claire has just told me that this was actually the crossing from Montenegro into Croatia. Never mind, all the hills are making me loose my mind!
Montenegro is a small, mountainous country, that recently separated, for reasons of pride more than anything else, from Serbia by a slim margin, reminiscent of Quebec’s efforts to do the same. The service sector dominates the economy with tourism being the most important component. Riding from the border into picturesque Ulcinj on quiet backroads didn’t prepare us for the next day’s ride to Budva. Once again there were no shoulders but now the roads were in better shape, the traffic restricted to fast vehicles (unlike Albania) and the drivers aggressive and totally unprepared to accommodate bicycles. We also now had many bridges to contend with (narrow, high & with gusty winds) and for the first time this trip, tunnels. The first few were short and sweet, with the proverbial light at the end of them. But then we hit a 350 M long tunnel with a curve and before I knew it I couldn’t see a bloody thing. Yes, it would have helped if I had removed my sunglasses and installed our lights. You would have to have been there to understand our stupidity. I think it was the next tunnel that we went into, better prepared this time, that Claire crashed in the dirt filled, miserable ‘shoulder’. She was unhurt but we were both shaken by the experience. Feeling drained we stopped at a ‘mini-market’ for some sort of sugar-filled snack (that we would never eat at home) and by chance we were approached by a young guy interested in what we were up to. He advised us to bail on the coastal highway and take the bus from Budva up into the mountains. We perused our smart phone map together and he showed us the route from Cetinje (the old ‘royal’ capital of Montenegro filled with wonderful mid-19th century embassies) up to Lovcen National Park and then down this amazing set of switchbacks to the old port of Kotor (another World Heritage site). To make a long story short, despite others describing the dangers of our planned route and the infamous ‘serpentine’ road, plus the unreliability of the information we had been receiving to date, we decided to go for it. Anything would be better than the coastal highway.
After boarding the bus in Budva just minutes after our arrival in town, a process which resembled a Three Stooges routine, we started the loooong climb up to Cetinje. Watching the perspective from a large bus we both thought it would have been suicidal to have attempted the climb on bikes. The ride the following day was all we could have hoped for and the ‘dangerous serpentine’ descent turned out to be 30 beautifully graded switchbacks on butter-smooth asphalt. What a gas!
Just as we entered one of the old gates to byzantine Kotor we bumped into Ian, an older South African who has been bike touring for over 3 years with no end in sight. Despite his rather subsistence, solo existence he proved at ease socially and a very pleasant chance encounter. The next day’s ride as we left Kotor was probably the most picturesque we’ve ever done (see photo). A single lane, bordered on one side by old, flower clad, stone homes and the clear waters of the Bay of Kotor on the other with the occasional bikini clad sunbather to complete the picture. Delightful!
We are currently on a rest day in a comfortable, shared, 3-story, walk up apartment in Split, Croatia (Note: the number of floors when you have to carry your bikes up is of some significance to us after a long day on the road.) If this blog is supposed to document our trip I’m starting to fall way behind. Though doing more camping (and enjoying it), we are starting to use AirB&B to find cheap accommodation as Warm Showers is proving less reliable, if not bizarre – see upcoming post on Croatia.
As anyone who has travelled for a longer period on a tight budget will know, one has to be, at minimum, flexible regarding ones diet. In Squamish we had a very healthy, carb-reduced, sugar avoidant and varied diet. We now eat anything put in front of us and in large quantities with seemingly no ill effects. Our mainstays are feta, yoghurt, tomato, cucumber, muesli, bread and lots of fruit. Chocolate, once a daily ritual, is becoming more problematic with the heat. Pastries, sweet or savoury, are of course tough to pass by. Good pizza and coffee (the Italian impact on the Adriatic) is available everywhere. Machiatto is our drink of choice though I hear real men only drink espresso. I get the feeling the various ‘fad’ diets of North America have bypassed the Mediterranean completely. I also used to be completely put off by cigarette smoke but can now hang out in a cafe quite oblivious to the smokers around me.
Our health is hanging in there. We were both in need of this rest after a series of hill climbs over the past week. Claire gets mentally as well as physically tired and knows when to stop. I pretend to be strong (have been faking-it all my life) and am usually keen to push on. Claire’s frozen shoulder and wrist issues (ganglion?) persist whereas I remain with my chronic arm neuropathy. Otherwise we are definitely getting stronger and feeling good.
A last thought: After the surprisingly warm and easy going Albanians, we’ve found the Montenegrins and Croatians much more reserved, if not brusque. We’ve been assured that under the tough exterior there is a ‘kinder, gentler’ soul, so we will keep looking.
Postscript: A bolt sheared and I just wrapped my pannier rack around my front wheel…we’ve got issues!
