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Published: September 29th 2012
The glass is half full....
Sunsets, sunshine and good Montenegro wine for 3 daysComing to Montenegro and beyond was something I was a little concerned about.
I am rarely wrong, being a female I always get it right lol, so when I arrived in a wonderful spot called Becici, Montenegro after a days travel from Italy, it felt so right! Montenegro roughly translates to 'land of the Russian tourist' or Ruski central – speedo clad old men with bellies in need of weight loss advice, deep abdominal strengthening and a spot of bio-oil. Well exposed they were, even if you were not of the beautiful people crowd, as clearly I wasn't, anything goes.
The 2
nd Andre met for the day (aside from the Italian tenor on the Venice to Rome train), my host at B and B Fly and Beach near the airport, was accommodating and helpful. Like several people I’ve met in Italy, they want to at least visit or immigrate to NZ and spoke, of the political and economic difficulties in their country. Taxation is meant to be up to 70%!I(MISSING) was told and health services poor in the public sector. After talking Andre into establishing an Italian delicatessen in Auckland, I left for my flight to
Montenegro, well on time and transiting via Belgrade.
Belgrade was hot and dry from the air and on the ground. As luck didn’t have it, the connecting flight was 4 hours delayed, and feeling impatient and unwell I coughed up more than my throat…….50 euros extra in requesting the earlier flight. The Serbian people at JAT airways did all they could to get me on it, kindly and with limited English; I was so very grateful. Gestures speak volumes sometimes! Hvala vam!
Sitting next to Serbians Liliana and her Doctor friend, I had a chat about this place. Seems it is a holiday getaway for many Russians (Ruski’s they say), Polish and generally those seeking warmth. There‘s about 600,000 people in the whole of Montenegro and geography is coastal as much as mountainous. Jellyfish? No way. The coastline is largely clear, clean, on verge of overdevelopment in some parts, but such a warm and friendly experience. The many interactions had with stall holders, taxi drivers and apartment staff have made this my favourite so far.
Stood in line at Montenegro customs (where they have loose quarantine rules!), I spotted a Kiwi passport. He was called Andre from
Christchurch, and was visiting his family who were Croat-Serbian. The customs official smiled seeing two Kiwis at once, we are thought of well! But missing bidding him a ‘good luck’, and in a small-world occurrence, the manager at Becici view apartments I discovered was a relative! He too was an Andre! He told me this when I flooded the bathroom accidentally…..it was some weird Euro style washing machine I couldn’t get my head around – but easily fixed. “Lock here” and all was good. Blessing number 2 – a washing machine mid way through holiday! (blessing #1, beach with no jellyfish!)
So what to do here, apart from swim, sleep, read, walk, rest…….
If you so desire, parachuting from high dry hills above, parasailing, jet skiing, boat cruises, night fishing, kayaking, partying are all possible. I passed.
On one day I headed to Budva, 30 minutes walk away, for the old town (Stari Grad), a classic example of the fortresses built along this coastline. Budva is not only known for it’s grand marina and expensive boats, but also nightly discotheques, thumping yet tasteful dance music, casinos, bars and general night life. Hence my decision to stay in
Becici as sleep was wanted and the apartment price was right. Kotor, a world heritage UNESCO site, was where I spent that same afternoon. On Andre’s recommendation, I commissioned a limited English speaking driver called Boris to take me there, wait for an hour or so and return me to Becici. Usual practice is they wait with a charge imposed, about 10 euros hourly.
So on the drive there, Boris and I got acquainted with my valuable 15 language guidebook, in the English-Croat dictionary. We had a profound conversation – stilted to say the least but messages got across. “Ruski (Russian)…no”……“Kotor, now, yes/ ‘da’……Buy local fish, not hot…da”.. it was possible.” “Go up (hill climb) Kotor, Stari grad here, da.. etc etc” Then it got interesting………...my name is…………..pleased to meet you! (hand shake, one hand on the wheel, and not to mention mobile phone use, so obviously loose laws….). And then…. “how old are you, maybe 23, 24…”..oh yes please I like you, knocking 10+ years off my age is what any women wants, geez it was funny. “You, man?” “Well, I’m female actually, can’t you tell”. Perhaps it is time to bring out the Bulgari foam and shave
View over Becici, Montenegro
10 min walk to a gorgeous beach my beard off! He told me he was 26 and single, and so I said I know a lovely Serbian beauty I can introduce him to, being the nice bloke he was, but she is on the other side of the world, alas it would not work. We then concurred that Montenegro, him and I were all beautiful/ ‘lijep’ and continued driving.
Well those formalities over with, Boris helped me buy fish outside Kotor, take photos, and then dropped me off in the old town to see the Fortress and countless photogenic alleyways of it. These parts were fiercely contested over the past 2000 to 3000 years, with Ottoman, Austro-Hungarian, Venetian and Roman rule influencing this.
A hard and short climb 10 minutes uphill, past the attendant, gets impressive views of Kotor (see photos) and was worthwhile and I met 3 girls who were health professionals from the USA. Back at Becici, traveling via Boris’ mates place (full of boats and jet skiis) and driving to a soundtrack of ‘Stereo Love’ several times over (he likes Edward Mayer), I said goodbye to Boris. Time was nigh for a sunset, and I paid my respects outside a local church
to get the best vista. Retiring to a stunning view from the apartment, a glass of red in hand and fresh local produce at the ready, all was ‘dobar’!
2 days of nothing but R n R later and I was on my way to Albania. Thankful for a late check out, Terre taxis had provided the most economic quote for a private transfer to Tirana airport where I was to meet the group. Upon my initial impression seeing the state of the roads, buses and driving, I’m glad I did. Farewell to glassy Montenegro coastline, hello dry hills and flat swampy lands, with erratic driving, roadside beggars and corrupt service at customs (my driver ‘bought’ his way into the country with money, I got through unscathed). So I offered him a moral support arm thump!
It was stinking hot at 30 degrees as we wound through roads that further narrowed beyond Petrovac and Vladmir, finally entering Albania to the town of Puke. Strangely, I felt a little sick. It could have been the countless petrol stations and open fires around me too, which my bronchi loved as much as my drivers smoking habit. He was serious, into
My way indeed!
Expensive rides at Budva marina ethnic Albanian music and not the laugh Boris was. So we existed on yes/ no, problem/ no problem and charades like animal noises to explain NZ’s 60 million ‘sheeps’, all the way to Tirane-Rinas airport. We shook hands and I waited. And drank very average coffee. And water. And waited.
Until guide extraordinaire, Tiran'arian Led, showed himself 2.5 hours later. Tall, bald and not to be messed with, gentle giant Led from Exodus made us all feel welcome. As the group finally dribbled through from a late flight, asie some wailing emotional Albanian women (funeral imminent??), we headed to the 2nd largest town, Durres, passing the odd beggar, cyclists without lights, loads and loads of petrol stations and lastly a hotel with a comfy bed. The doorman was sweet enough to walk me to the supermarket to get water, 200m away, for my own safety, even if it meant he finished work 2 hrs later than his shift ........the rule here in Albania is belly first (be well fed, then do anything serious like open your museum, your $2 shop etc)
Little sleep and we were off on the first day, with a minature run under my belt
for the half marathon first (it is not going well :-(, poor calf......)
Durres' Roman amphitheatre was first up, authentic and similar in the features of other styles of it, yet without the hype of Italy. It was found buried in the 1960s and reconstruction began soon after, with much of the original walls in tact. It has withstood earthquakes and obviously recent war/ unrest considerably well.
Then we drove to Elbasan on the way to Pogradec, and visited a fine 15th century Ottoman fortress in the centre of town. This is again authentic and unreconstructed in parts. I met a nice Kosovo man who took my photo, and practiced my limited, mispronounced Albanian.
Lunch and a short 1.5 hour drive later, over the hills surrounding Elbasan and a grand valley, and we began descending into Pogradec. It is touted as having the purest and clearest lake in Europe. My first impressions were it was, and as we approached town I was dubious as to if it remained the same. It did, and aside from the odd bit of rubbish at the edges, I got not a spot of dirt on me when towelling off. It's clean!
The men playing dominos in their funky hats, sat alongside the lake, gave me a clap once I showed them how kiwis do proper freestyle - probably the weirdest entertainment lakeside they had seen in a while was me swimming in a rash shirt and red cap, exceedingly well I may add lol.
So we then went for drinks at the former dictators residence, had a natter with the group (average age 40s, I am one of youngest, oldest late 60s/ early 70s) and bonded with the begging children when we returned. Bought delicious, decadent figs for very cheap, and practiced Albanian buying water from the shop owner. In fact he was trying to teach me!
Despite what you may think of this place, be open minded. I have little historical knowledge of the war, but feel I am warming to this country as much as the weather is warming me (30c+ and dry!). I am not sure I would visit Italy again in a hurry.
And if you can get over the sight of excessive rubbish, it's stench, the signs of poverty, and the fact it is different to the educated, priviledged upbringing you are likely
used to, this place can be beautiful.
I'm so lucky to be born a kiwi.
And so I'll leave this entry at this philosophical thought....
Water bottles?
Or water purification tablets?
Lets have a referendum on what's best for Albania LOL!!
"This is as north east as I go
Not into Kosovo
South we head
Into the dry arid Med
And by then an Albania I will know!"
And if I don't look out I will get on my travel soap box as much as my healthcare soapbox ...which is as much as Led gets on his communist Albania soapbox (we get lectures every day on different topics, he is so informative!!!)........and neither of these are wanted in this blog I am sure!
Ciao for now
:-)
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