Hotel Pelikan Bar

... smoker-friendly than the USA in general, but Montenegro was even more extreme than the other European countries we’d been to. Employees were smoking while working (including the train ticket lady), people would light up a cigarette right next to you without even thinking about consideration, and people on the train were even smoking (ignoring the no-smoking symbols). It was so weird and so terrible. I’m sure we smelt ...

Ulcinj is a very odd city. In the medieval years it was a haven for pirates who would capture passing ships in the Adriatic. They would steal the ships and cargo and ransom off the captives and all those that wouldn't pay up, they would sell into slavery. There still remain the prisoners cells within the fortress and the slave market in the center of town. <br><br>With today's tourisms seeking new ways to distinguish ...

... the 1877 Turkish war. Insult was added to injury when the ruins that had become a tourist attraction were themselves ruined in an earthquake in 1979. The ruins have since been partially rebuilt. Unlike other old towns that we have been to, Stari Bar not being abandoned has a sort of ghost town quality as you pick your way through the undergrowth and peer into the remains of houses.    Fading fast in the midday sun we set off ...

... Darko ran up to someone important showing his governmental badge as I recall, asking them to hold the flight until I board. There was hardly time for JAT to weigh my luggage; they did however inform me it weighed over the limit allowed. Darko said there was no time to be picky about what I was bringing back to the States ; I obeyed leaving one full suitcase behind with him as to not miss my flight. Quickly helped me through customs and the gate, I tried prolonging our goodbye ...

... forms, but getting free beer just for being in a country is definitely not one of them. I smiled and we toasted again before he introduced himself as Alen. His brother, the improbably named Tony, sat to the left of him- for some reason he seemed more interested in the beautiful Montenegrin girl sitting next to him than the idiot Englishman his brother had brought a drink for, just can't please some people. The mandatory ...

... what to expect of the view, but had our camera ready to try and grasp that perfect photo opportunity. We were really getting excited about Montenegro at this point, because we had planned on doing some whitewater rafting in Durmitor National Park, which, this canyon we were driving through, bordered the park. We hoped that it was just a glimmer of the scenery we would see once inside the park, but that wouldn't happen for another day. The bus we were on ...

... on to the main one. In the meantime, I had forgotten an important number I needed concerning the problem and had to run back to the hotel. When I finally get to the post office, what do you know? The guy there has no clue what I'm talking about. Off to the tourist office then. The guy there says that what I'm wanting - a simple collect call - is impossible to do in Montenegro. A visit to the internet cafe seems to confirm that very thing. All that chasing around ...

... there to check out the old town of 'Stari Bar' before getting an afternoon bus up the coast to Kotor. An extremely friendly lady in the small tourist office by the docks helped us out with maps and information, and before we knew it we were in a taxi on our way up the hill. The very interesting Stari Bar (Old Bar) lay 4km northeast of the modern town, and nearly all of the 240 buildings lay in ruin, a result of Montenegrin shelling when they captured the town from the Turks in ...

... make an exodus from the beach for the day. That night, Montenegro surprised us again. The city presented itself as sophisticated enough to draw crowds of sunworshippers and partygoers and technologically advanced enough to entertain them throughout the night with astoundingly loud music that literally reverberated throughout the valley. Who knows, maybe clubs even advertised the appearance of the hottest new DJs from Ibiza or Berlin. Nevertheless, the place was almost entirely ...

... and jaggedly to the Bosnian border only a few miles in from the sea. We rode through a narrow valley running parallel to the coast, still in Croatia but only just. It felt like we were in the middle of nowhere and we were clearly approaching the end. At the last town in Croatia, where we stopped to buy food, however, the clerk still knew some words of English even though I didn't imagine she'd see very many tourists. After ...