Too little time for Montenegro

Kotor seems like a fairy tale town after the uncertainty of Struga and Shköder and long backbreaking journey to get there.

We spend a lot of time looking for our hotel on the narrow streets, but it’s worth it. 

The little boutique hotel Palazzo Drusko is exactly what our tired bodies and drained minds need. Very cozy, quiet and tasteful. Our rooftop room could even be called luxurious. 

Now a year later, while I'm writing this story, I remember that by this time last year I had independently (without Silvia's help) learned how to upload pictues to Blogger. I was up all night uploading pictures, but in the morning they were all gone. At the time I was writing about St. Petersburg - I was a month late. Now a month has become a year. 

It is sad though that we only arrive late in the evening and we have to leave in the morning. We try to bargain another night’s stay, but kind-eyed Miloš at the reception tells us that everything has been booked. To make it up for us, he finds us another room at a nearby hotel and spends half the night drinking rakija (local liquor) with the girls.

The hotel kitchen and Rakija

In the morning I am full of will to go and explore Kotor.

The night before we saw a lit-up pathway that takes one from the town up into the fortress on top of the mountain. We definitely need to go see that.

 The girls are not so enthusiastic. We sit at an outdoor café, I drink my morning coffee and the girls grab one glass after another - water, Coca Cola, orange juice. My inquisition only gets “Rakija” as an explanation, as they take another swig of water. 

They are not fit to climb a mountain that day so we miss the experience of the fortress, which they started building in the 9th century and finished the protective loop around the city by the 14th century. One can make a 1200m ascent up the fortification via 1350 steps to a height of 260m above sea level.

We take a walk in the old town - around it, above it (on the city walls), and inside churches. 

Last six: views of the old town

On the city walls

The view from the city walls towards the sea

The view from the city walls towards the land

The view into the city walls (someone's office?)

The church from the inside

There’s supposed to be a catmuseum here somewhere. 

We seem to have found it, but as we enter the door, doubt crawls into our minds – why should a catmuseum be located in the attic of some fairly terrible-looking building, where one has to climb lifethreatening stairs in a dodgy staircase. We almost risk our lives to make sure that there definitely is not a museum here and leave disappointed.

The guards of the cat museum

The next day, we find the museum in the stairway next to where we were looking for it.

  Inside we find three rooms filled with post cards and pictures of celebrities with cats. I ask about a vet clinic nearby but no one knows any other than the one in the capital.

Last 2: exhibits of the museum

We can’t climb the mountain to visit the fort the next day either, as it is heavily raining. We only get to run to the cat museum, run to a restaurant to eat some hot soup, and run to the bus station whilst getting soaking wet. 

They offered hot soup from this cauldron at the restaurant

 The rain in Kotor was very impressive.

Not a stream, but a river. 

As we sit in the bus, dripping and cold, we realize we’ve bought post cards, put postmarks on them and haven’t posted them. Silvia tries to convince the bus driver to let her out at a stop right before crossing the border but he’s not having it. So we stop at the border for a while and see a Mercedes taken apart next to us. I guess they were suspicious of something being smuggled.

Crossing borders went easy for us. I couldn’t imagine the lines we would have had to endure if we were travelling this year.

Dubrovnik bus station is very windy. The hostess of Adriatic Apartments has promised to pick us up but she is a little late. Being thoroughly wet and in the cold wind we freeze completely. Luckily the apartment is warm and cozy. I run to the shop with our hostess and the girls hang the clothes to dry. There's not a dry spot in sight. 

As we wake up the next morning we see the sun shining so we set out to explore the beautiful historic old town of Dubrovnik.

About the biggest blunder that happened on our trip when Silvia booked us a hotel in Prague, not Dubrovnik. And because she had done so well in booking us inexpensive and nice accommodations before, we didn’t double check at all. Some Canadians had recommended staying at a castle, it was supposed to be fun.

Silvia: I entered the words „Castle Apartments“ or somehting like that to the booking website, I found the hotel and booked it. I usually always check how we can get from the bus or train station or airport to our hotel, so naturally I put the bus staion and hotel into Google Maps. It says that by car it will take us 13 hours. What? It can’t be. I check again and I had accidentally booked us a hotel in Prague 1275 km away. Damn! It’s the Canadian’s fault. If he hadn’t told me about a castle hotel, I would have booked one using my regular methods. To be fair, I can’t blame the poor Canadian boy, I was quite an idiot myself. We tried to bargain the hotel room away to someone of Facebook, but we couldn’t (what’s funny is that mum got a message from the hotel owner, asking us what time we would be in Prague, so that they could make up our room. We told them - you know what, we aren’t coming).

The finale of this story is I ended up giving very high points to the hotel in Prague, because when the time arrived to rate the accommodation on the booking site, we had already been in a few other hotels after that so all of them were mixed up. I had remembered that the nice hotel in Dubrovnik had had a lovely hostess who picked us up from the bus station, greeted us with wine and tangerines and agreed to drive us around in the city. And I wrote all that as a review. It wasn’t until later that I realized I reviewed a hotel I’ve never even been in. So I rewrote the review to the correct hotel as well. The hotel in Prague hasn’t removed my great review but they might be in trouble if a future customer demands personal transportation and tangerines.

A year ago on Sunday we met our hardest obstacle of the trip - Struga!

Macedonia

Now things are going to get interesting. If our lives had been well-organized before - a flight from one place to another, accommodation by local colleagues, not much to trouble our minds at all - then a whole new journey was ahead of us. Starting from buying train tickets from Athens to Thessaloniki, which would have been easy before thanks to Silvia’s knowledge of how to navigate a foreign online reservations’ site. This time all that could not be done, despite promises from certain sites that we could buy tickets without leaving the hotel. It actually required going to the train station, finding an ATM and getting cash, making it clear where we wanted to go, and buying the physical tickets from an office. Oh well. On the train we go. The girls are making faces. They don’t have the experience of a Tallinn-Pihkva train ride, which became familiar to me during my university studies as a last resort to get to school. In reality, the Tallinn-Pihkva train was a lot worse but the girls are just too used to an easy life and clean toilets. Both of them looked around with terror and declared they would not be sleeping tonight, but keeping guard. Of what? I don’t even know, but they failed.

Finally we reach Thessaloniki. There is supposed to be a bus to Skopje somewhere. There is supposed to be a bus station somewhere. The info box is closed. I ask a nice young man in a uniform who seems kind and helpful but I can’t understand a word he’s saying. Looks like he’s trying to send us to the other side of the station. Is there a station there? A bus? Upon examination, I find nothing. At that moment, I spot a taxi, but another woman is just about to take it. Still the taxi driver turns to me - “Where?” Helplessly I try to explain “The bus”; “Skopje”. He nods, declares he need 6 EUR for the ride and stuffs our bags in the trunk. As we are driving somewhere, the car suddenly stops at an intersection and we are told to get off. “Hotel, hotel. Bus, bus” he points to the left. Along the pointed direction we go, in hopes of finding a bus to Skopje. But there’s only parked, empty buses, a closed tourism bureau and a café. It being 7 o’clock in the morning and everything else being closed, we sit down at the café and eat a little, all the while trying to find a way to get over the border. They know nothing at the hotel, the tourism bureau is still closed and calling the number on the window is useless. In that time, the café has gotten a few more customers. I ask if anyone speaks English. A man kindly informs us that the bus to Skopje departs from the train station. In 20 minutes. I ask where we could find the nearest taxi but he only asks me why. The train station is literally right behind the corner. So it is! After two hours of moping around at a random café we are back at Thessaloniki train station and realize the young man in a uniform was right about the place where the buses are. Where the cunning taxi driver drove us around for 6 EUR is still unclear.

Landscapes before the border

Getting over the border from Greece to Macedonia takes some time, because there’s a family sitting at the back of the tiny bus - an old lady, probably the aunt, a deaf mother and a little boy, maybe two years old. One of them doesn’t have their paperwork in order so they take turns to talk to the border guards, they call somewhere and there’s endless explaining, but finally they return to the bus and we can go on. Upon arrival at Skopje they we’re greeted by a young man, probably the father of the child, who hugged everyone tight and offered a very happy sight for us tired travellers. Oh, when were the times when I had to cross the border fearing my paperwork wouldn’t check out and if the border guard was in a good mood or if he’ll just yell at me for wasting his time. I couldn’t imagine such a thing today.

...and landscapes after the border

Still at the bus station, happily in Skopje, we try to get wi-fi, but it’s not working. Instead we decide to look around the city a little, as there’s still some time before our bus to Ohrid.

Of course the first things we notice are dogs

Skopje is really nice. One after another, glorious buildings grace the shores. Turns out they are all new buildings, copying the old glory.

 Last 4 - beautiful new buildings

 A plaque in memory of Mother Theresa

Statues everywhere. The last one is of Alexander the Great

There’s a lot of construction going on. 

 In the middle of the river are a few gigantic boats, still to be completed, which will probably house cafés and restaurants in the future.

Before heading back, we grab a bite to eat and cannot believe it when we get lunch for 12 EUR. Three meals, a wine and a beer. We have discovered a new paradise for backpackers.

A very chatty local lady is sat beside me on the bus - a teacher. Her English is scanty, but with the help of some German and Russian and phone calls to the daughter to ask about this word or that word, I learn a lot about Macedonia. She says that there has been construction lately, but a lot of the locals aren’t very fond of the new projects for their lack of true Macedonian heritage. They have a lot of Albanians and probably other Muslims, which pressure inside ties. 
We pass a lot of great skiing resorts in the mountains.

Landscapes on our way to Ohrid

As we reach Ohrid, it has already gone dark and we get a taxi to take us to our accommodation. Which turns out to be in the middle of the city, right next to the main square, and is very small and cosy. A lovely but exclusively Macedonian speaking old lady greets us, she calls the actual owner to confirm our reservation, who apologizes for being in Skopje that day and gets help from a guy repairing his car on the street, eventually we clarify everything.

Our home for the night is modest, but clean and comfortable and most importantly very inexpensive.

 Right after the landlady has gone, we discover that the lamp in the bathroom has blown, but we find some candles in the room and they''ll do. Besides, it's more romantic this way.

We go for a walk, the girls buy some earrings (Ohrid pearls), and do some grocery shopping.

The next morning I set out early and alone. One of my favorite things to do when travelling is to walk along the sea or a lake. It is a quiet Sunday morning. The streets are empty. In a few hours they will be filled with many curious tourists. Those few silent hours with street cleaners, snow sweepers on the mountain or by the seaside where someone might be drawing patters in the sand or rearranging the lounge chairs along the beach are what drive me to explore new unfamiliar places.

Last 3 - morning views in Ohrid

 The streets start to get busy, it’s time to wake the girls and look for a place to get breakfast.

We go to the lake, sit in the sun. Where else?

And then we walk, walk, walk. 

Up the hill and down the hill, to the lake once more...

(I really want to go swimming but my clothes are now far away at the hotel),...

...up again, into little churches (Orhid is said to have over 300 churches), ....

...to some ruins that have a university next to them and back down again to the center of the city. I had decided to not buy anything unless absolutely necessary but this time I can’t help myself and purchase pearl earrings for my mother, aunt, and a bracelet I’ll need in Munich.

Last 5 - we saw rabbits, cats and dogs. 

 In a church courtyard we notice a dog whose back was covered with something. We ask the local lady, who angrily slaps her hands and says that some drunk youths had poured paint over the dog. They thought it was horribly funny. The dog was still friendly and trusting despite its dreadful experience. Fortunately the paint had started to peel of already too. Still - what sort of people do this?

We didn't find a veterinary clinic. We asked passers-by who had a little white dog - they said there is one in the city but it's closed on Sundays. After hearing I was a veterinarian they asked me to look at the dogs eyes and give advice on the dog in general. In Macedonia this meeting was the only one that had something to do with veterinary medicine for me.

Silvia keeps telling us we need to go to the bus station and make sure we have everything in order to get to Montenegro tonight. Our trusted site “rome2rio” tells us there’s a connection straight to Kotor where we need to go. The lady at the counter tells us that’s true but only once a week and only on Friday. I remind everyone it’s Sunday. So how do we get to Montenegro? The only thing she says is Struga. Struga? What is that? A bus firm, a plane firm, a city?? We set out to find internet and see a sign pointing to a hotel. Maybe they can help? We are at a shady neighbourhood now (only industry, car repair shops etc). The hotel is nowhere to be found, but there is a restaurant.

And thank god - wi-fi! The girls eat cake and I calm my nerves with a glass of wine. Silvia combs through every tripadvisor post ever made about getting to Montenegro from Ohrid and makes countless phone calls but nothing seems to work. Finally we conclude:

Stuga is a town nearby

The busride from Ohrid takes 20 min.

There is a bus connection from Struga to Tirana.

From Tirana we somehow have to get over the border to Montenegro.

The best way to do that is to take a cab from Tirana. It will cost 120 EUR.

Alright, we have eaten our cake, drunk our wine and made important decisions. We will have to go to Struga now. Then take the nightbus to Tirana where there is no bus station and to not stand in the middle of the road somewhere at 5 in the morning, call a cab to take us to Kotor. The person we contact about the taxi is very forthcoming and speaks good English. We agree to call when we get on the bus to Tirana so they’ll have time to drive out and meet us there.

But first, a taxi to get back to the hotel and gather our things. The driver drops us off at a street next to the main bus station and tells us to wait there. Yes, there is a sign with a bus on it, but it seems very fishy. It’s getting darker. The bus isn’t coming. A car pulls up next to us. A man jumps out, calling “Struga!” “What?” “Struga!!” he calls again, opens the trunk and stuffs our luggage inside. “Struga. Bus..” we try to say. The man pats his old Opel and says “Better bus. 15 denar.” We’re still a bit apprehensive but an old lady is waving us inside from the back seat and saying “Struga, Struga!” comfortingly. Oh well, in we go. Who knows if the bus is even coming and at what time. It costs about the same. We try to converse in English but the driver laughs and says “No English, no problem!” Okay.. I try to speak Russian to him and explain Struga isn’t our real destination, but Tirana. He only says “Bus Tirana, stop Struga. Petrol, petrol!” and calls a friend to ask about the bus to Tirana. Very nice of him. Struga seems okay, at least as much as we can see in the dark. The part of the city nearer to the bus station is a lot creepier and the bus station itself is just a black hole. Not a soul to be seen. Not even a light. So this is where we’re supposed to spend a couple of hours until midnight when the bus arrives? And what if it doesn’t? 

We’re definitely not staying here so we drive to a gas station. The people there act like they’ve never even heard of Tirana before.

 The taxi driver takes us back to an intersection just next to the empty bus station. This is probably the highway to Tirana and there probably is a bus at one moment here somewhere but we’re not feeling so sure. “Bus Skopje Tirana. Stop Struga. OK?” the taxi driver says as he tries to get in his car and leave. 

You can tell by Maari's face that it's not OK.

We don’t want to stand here on the side of the road in complete darkness to wait for a bus that might not even come. Please take us back to the civilized world. Then we’ll decide if selling our soul to the devil at an intersection is worth it. He has lost some of his enthusiasm and sighs, then agrees to take us back to the city. “Restaurant good” he shows us an empty place that, yes, seems to be a restaurant or more importantly a relatively safe place to kill some time, drops us off and demands 3x50 denar (not 15 per person as promised) fleeing the scene quickly. We sit down but we’re not feeling as hungry as we are scared, without a certain plan and just terrified of Struga. Silvia makes a decision - we’ll spend the night in Struga, wake up bright and early and check out the bus station once again. Now to find a hotel. Everything is dark and shady. Our surroundings as well as our future, it seems. A neon sign flashes HOTEL and we decide to try our luck. The receptionist is a bit uninterested, but nice, she gives us a room. We crash into our beds, to deep sleep, me not so much, because it seems our door cannot be closed properly and someone strange comes into our room at night. Luckily that was only a dream. In the morning Silvia calls the bus station. Yay! There really is a bus to Tirana, in about an hour (the tripadvisors have already made it clear the bus could be late a few hours). We decide to connect the Montenegro taxi company on the bus.

Struga is quite nice in daylight.

The bus station really is a bus station, it has a ticket office and everything! You can only pay in cash but that was expected.

2 pictures of the bus station

The bus we’re waiting for is picking up a few more people. I make conversation with a German couple who is backpacking just like us. They say that we didn’t miss much not going to Kosovo and that there is a bus from Tirana to Sköder, just on the border of Montenegro. We make plans to get there together.

 The bus to Tirana is new an comfortable.

The ride is uneventful save the unhappiest dog I’ve ever seen. I still think of him. And to think there are many in similar conditions all over the world. We tend to forget that in Northern and Western Europe

Tirana - as much as we can see from the bus is pretty nice and modern. A lot of young people on the streets. 

We don’t have time for further exploration because the buss to Sköder is said to leave very soon and we need to get a taxi. The German tourists get one and us another. We then realize we only have Maari’s denaris so we scrape together for 4 EUR and we end up getting to the bus before our friends thus grabbing the last three seats. As we had no money, we couldn’t rejoice just yet, but the nice driver told us we have to leave now and that we’ll pay once we get to Sköder. Maari fought out the opportunity to run to the bathroom before another bus ride, payed in denaris to the café owner and off we went. What happened to the Germans - no idea.

Mountains, more mountains, little towns, beautiful landscapes, two vet clinics but literally no space to take photos, the bus was cramped.

After a few hours of uncomfortable closeness with other passengers and we arrived in Sköder to pay our debts and find a way to get to Montenegro. Everything goes easier than expected. A young man named Nicola who we had just shared a bus with, pays for us and helps us find an ATM and transport to Kotor. He speaks great English and tells us his story - has been a tour guide since the age of 10, is now 20, will move to Norway for a couple of months to his uncle’s house. Meanwhile a man has appeared out of nowhere to offer to take us over the border. First to a town to catch a bus, eventually even to Kotor. 

Before setting out on another long drive, we take a break at a café. 

The man treats us, because “Albanians are honest and nice” as he doesn’t tire of repeating in broken English. 

Then we start the ride. Crossing the border is easy and further into Montenegro the landscapes are absolutely beautiful.

The old car swivels on the roads, trudging on and on. He asks about us and Estonia, makes conversation about his daughter and son, shows us their pictures, one finger still on the wheel. Once again it’s getting darker. 

The seaside resorts are shining bright and beautiful, the most amazing sunset in the background. 

We could stay in the first beautiful town but we’ve already booked a hotel which, judging from the rating and photos, would be awful to lose, so we have no choice but to convince the driver to take us all the way. And even though it didn’t exactly fit into his plans, he agreed, and stepped on the gas. I prayed for the drive not to end with a collision on the mountainside and Silvia later told us she had thought of a way to tie herself to the seat so that she would have some chance of survival. We’re a little worried the nice man has to drive the whole way back alone but he says he’s used to it. It could be that the 80 EUR he made that night is great pay for a taxi driver in Albania and he had deemed it worth the ride.

But finally - we’re here. The old town of Kotor is truly something special. I’ve been to Dubrovnik before, but this is something smaller and cosier. And the hotel really is super. It’s a shame we only have one night here. We had thought we would arrive in the morning but it’s good we even made it in the end. The room is not available for another night but we are moved to a place nearby. One day is not enough time for Kotor.