No rest for the wicked
Trip Start
Apr 08, 2007
1
70
144
Trip End
Oct 01, 2007
Bar,
Serbia and Montenegro
Sunday, June 24, 2007
I tried to find a way to place a collect call through a big local hotel last night, but it was a no-go. So before I could go on with today's planned activities, I had to try and call through the post office. The one at the bus station didn't have a clue what I was talking about, so he sent me 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
01: Arrival at road above Sveti Stefan
. 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 - in the 33°C heat and humidity no less - for nothing.My entire morning blown on a wild goose chase, I then had to figure out how I was going to manage cramming in what I had planned for the day. I'd already done the day's sweating, but there wasn't much left for me to see and do in Budva. So, what the hell? Go ahead and continue as intended. I managed to get to the bus station about five minutes before a bus was leaving for Sveti Stefan, which was impeccable timing if I've ever heard of it. The trip itself took only about 15 minutes, so I was able to arrive while the sun was hitting the island at just the right angle. An hour or two later and I'd be shooting straight into it.
Sveti Stefan itself is a tiny place and - apart from the minute amount of sights to see on the little island - it's little more than a beach resort. Again, the beach is nothing to write home about . . . mostly pebbles with a feeble sprinkling of sand beyond it. The bus had dropped me off along the hillside road overlooking the resort, allowing me a great vantage point to take it all in. After that, I basically made a beeline down the many steps and straight on to the island, past the bewilderingly large number of Russians out on holiday. Walking up to the gate, I was immediately greeted by a caretaker who promptly informed me the island was closed
02: The island of Sveti Stefan
. Huh? Yes, a whole island was closed "for renovations." Hmm . . . O - K. The Russian couple that tried to go in right after me looked equally baffled.So, I didn't really get to see much of Sveti Stefan. On the other hand, the unexpected inability to go sightseeing there meant I had most of the afternoon remaining to go elsewhere. Thus, despite expectations, I was going to be able to do what I had planned. Climbing back up the hill, I caught the next bus onwards to Bar, which happened to come within only ten minutes. 2 for 2 on transportation. With Bar only about 32km down the road, it didn't take long to get there. Along the way I got to sit back and watch the dramatic mountain scenery, as well as get a peek at the resort of Petrovac, just a little further down the way.
Bar is, frankly, a dreadful place. Heavy on crumbling concrete and mind-numblingly identical tenement blocks dating from the Communist era, it's not a place to linger around in. Unfortunately, it's frequently the first place many people encounter upon arriving in Montenegro, as it's both the ferry hub and the coastal terminus of the rail line from Belgrade. Amazingly, there's a tourist office in town. I headed straight that way to find out how to get to the one redeeming feature in the area: the ruined old town of Stari Bar a few kilometers out of town. The girl there, friendly and well-intentioned, tried to sell me a big booklet on the attractions of Bar (?!), but I politely refused
03: Beach at Sveti Stefan
. She didn't seem to know the bus times or the best way to get out to Stari Bar though, so it was essentially a waste of time going there. So instead I went to the supermarket to buy some water and a snack and then caught a taxi onwards for a mere €3.The former old town sits up on a rocky bluff about 5km outside of Bar - far enough away that you don't have to look at the place. It's hemmed in by sweeping, rough mountains, with sheer cliff drops descending from nearly all sides of its old walls. The site was inhabited for well over a thousand years and would probably be quite an attractive place still today. Unfortunately, the town was pulverized by Montenegrin artillery in the late 19th century when it was being retaken from the Turks. They never completely rebuilt the place and then the 1979 earthquake - the same one that badly rattled Budva, Ulcinj and, in Albania, Shkodra - leveled a lot of the rest. Understandably, it now takes a little imagination to picture how it once was.
It's an intriguing place to wander around, but if I had to do it again, I wouldn't choose to in summer. I can't think of the last time I've sweat so profusely, and the dusty environment of predominantly white stone and insect-ridden greenery didn't make it any more fun. Other than a group of (somewhat odd) Belgian tourists that were louder than many American tour groups, I had the place largely to myself. So it was a mostly peaceful wander, but an excruciatingly uncomfortable one
04: View down along the strand
. It got to the point where I didn't see the point of drinking anymore water, because it seemed like I'd just sweat even more once I had. After a good hour's wander or so, I was quite happy to get out of there. Back at the parking lot, I happened to catch a cheap minibus back to the center and then took a group taxi back onwards to Budva.Now I'm sweating my tail off in an unventilated internet cafe full of kids playing computer games. Why they won't turn on the AC unit on the wall just by the door is beyond me. A shower - preferably cold - is sounding really, really good right now.
Tomorrow I head to Ulcinj, just up from the Albanian border. I'll spend one night there and then move on to Shkodra and, quickly after, Tirana. Time to check out a new country - one that's not especially well-known or understood worldwide. Ought to be interesting.
