kotor

Day 8 – If I Leave Here Tomorrow

Today was our last full day in Perast, so we wanted to relax, take it easy, walk the length of the village from watering hole to watering hole.

I tried in vain to capture how clear and blue the water is here, but still it eludes me!

It was the hottest day so far at 31 degrees, so we had to take it easy, my ugly heat rash spreading.

Probably my funniest interaction of the day was at the post office buying stamps. The post office in this tiny town is not a slick Deutsche Post-like operation, but a small room in one of the ancient stone buildings manned by a middle aged lady at a table. Our conversation went like this:

Me: hello! I need to buy some stamps to send post cards to Canada.

Her: Canada. Yes.

Me: uh, there’s a bunny in here.

Her: yes. Eet’s bunny. How many stamps?

Me: twelve. Does the bunny live here?

Her: eet’s not my bunny *rolls eyes*

I sent off some more postcards after my thrilling mail bunny encounter, grabbed a 1€ lavender ice cream and went back to taking more snaps.

We decided on our local favourite restaurant for dinner where we had chicken on the grill and local orange liqueur (Pa had two) and returned to our hotel room.

Perast is super lovely and exceeded my expectations for its stunning natural beauty alone. Although it suffers from apparently typical Montenegrin lack of detail (a lot of broken park benches, garbage cans overflowing), I would definitely come back to spend a week in this gorgeous seaside town.

Day 7 – Dazzling Blue

This morning we took our time at the hotel’s breakfast buffet, savouring the strong espresso and pastries. Pa had secured a speed boat tour for he and I, while Ma was more than happy to spend a few hours wandering Perast on her own.

We shared the speedboat with an English couple and two sisters and a mom of unknown origin. I’ve decided the speedboat operator has the best job in the world – zipping around paradise in a boat, cool Helly Hansen jacket, no shoes…what am I doing get screamed at by callers, members and coworkers alike? Anyway.

Our first stop was to Our Lady of the Rock – is that sounds familiar, it should – we’ve already been there. Pa and I stayed in the boat, catching some rays while our shipmates took a few moments to explore the island.

After about 20 minutes or so, we reloaded and headed west – to the narrow opening of the bay.

Our next point of interest was a submarine tunnel, lightly camouflaged and built into the side of the hill. The Yugoslavian government built three of them in the 60s and 70s as a means of hiding submarines and small warships. I tried my best to grab a few snaps through the changing light, rocking boat and clueless shipmates.

We left the marine bunker and sped further west, past the abandoned shipyards and various villas and resorts, all in different states of construction and disrepair.

Next up was Mamula – an island that holds an abandoned prison that was turned into a concentration camp by Mussolini during WWII. Many were imprisoned, tortured and killed here, and the island has stirred up controversy as of late – in 2016 the Montenegrin government sold the island to Russians, who are turning it into an Ibiza-esque resort, complete with spa and nightclubs. This has understandably upset the relatives and descendants of victims and survivors of the camp, and although the new owners of the island said that they would set up a memorial, this has done little to appease the angry people.

Past Mamula and we were on the open Adriatic – due west was Italy. The sky was a grey wall, dotted with sailboats, main sails and jibs full of the briny breeze. It was almost eerie being such a tiny boat on the open sea, as if some rogue wave, wind or monster could carry us away.

Finally, we turned and headed into a 3 meter tall opening in the side of the rock cliffs – the Blue Cave, or Blue Grotto. Not as famous as its Italian and Maltese siblings, the Blue Cave is stunning – almost unbelievably blue water, like blue flavoured Gatorade. I dipped my hand in, the water iridescent, glowing and surprisingly warm.

Again, it was tricky to get a photo that captured how blue the water was, while also being on a speedboat in a cave. Other boats were stopped there, with swimmers and revellers taking refuge from the oppressive heat (I myself have developed and ugly and itchy heat rash on my chest). Even just outside of the cave the water was bright blue, with speedboats and sailboats alike floating in the glowing sea.

We headed back to the mainland and docked at about 1500hrs and met up with Ma. We grabbed some delicious shopska salad (a favourite we discovered from our trip to Bulgaria 2 years ago) beers and some Perast cake, wrote and sent some postcards and wiled away the hot afternoon until dinner and bed.

Day 6 – Hot Child in the City

This morning we woke early to clear blue sky and calm clear water. We had to get up and go a little earlier than normal, as we were taking a water taxi from our home base in Perast across the Bay of Kotor to the town of Kotor. Kotor is the main town within the bow tie-shaped bay and has become a popular cruise ship port, so the town has gotten busier and busier in recent years.

The water taxi is really cool and a great deal – 3€ to take the 45 minute put across the bay. The service itself is a pilot project – the boat is electric, zero emissions and sponsored by the United Nations.

The three of us and two Welsh ladies boarded and enjoyed the smooth trip.

As we rounded a corner, we saw two huge cruise ships anchored in the bay at Kotor, enormous and ominous looking compared to all the speed boats and sailboats flitting across the bay. We braced ourselves as we knew it was going to be a busy day.

Kotor is a medieval fortified town that changed hands with whichever empire was dominating the area at the time – Bulgarians, Venetians, Ottoman, Austro-Hungarian – but the architecture is Venetian.

Kotor is known for squares and winding pathways and alleys – basically the best thing to do there is to get lost.

Ma and Pa wanted to try and conquer the 1400 stone steps up to the fortress on the hill, which sounded like a complete nightmare for me, so we parted ways, them heading to the ramparts and me winding deeper into the town, a specific destination in mind.

As far as I can tell, there is only one place to buy used vinyl in Kotor, and that place is called Vinyl Caffe. Vinyl Caffe isn’t at all a cafe, but a small hallway of an antique shop, and nestled near the rear of the shop are a few crates of records. I wanted to see if I could find some Montenegrin releases of some of my favourite albums, or at least some old Yugoslavian hit records. The shop keep spike very limited English, but I asked if she had any 70s Yugoslavian prog rock. She said a firm “yes”, and immediately pulled out a record with an unpronounceable artist name, album title, but a provocative album cover. I asked if we could listen to it and she said “of course”, pulled the record out of the sleeve, manhandled the vinyl slightly before placing it on her turntable and dropping the needle. The album was exactly what I expected it to be, folk-influenced prog rock, straight out of the 70s and sung all in Serbo-Croatian (one of the tracks even translates to “How Does It Feel to Kiss A Bosnian, Baby?”). I handed over some Euros, thanked her enthusiastically and headed back out to the stone corridors of people and heat.

Another fun fact about Kotor – it is a town of cats. There are cats EVERYWHERE, snuggled in corners, sunning themselves in squares, snaking through your feet as you eat. The cats of the town are very well looked after, as locals leave out bowls of water and piles of kibbles for the fuzzy felines.

Still on my own, I settled on a shaded pizzeria in a pretty square where I ordered a cold draught and wrote some postcards, getting a few updates from Ma and Pa – “hot. Lots of people. Dumb people” and “20 minutes in. Hot.” Even as I peacefully drank and wrote, I had a small grey feline friend occupy the chair opposite me at the table, who meowed, then entertained themselves with the chair cushion ties.

A bit later I got a text from Ma saying “3/4 way up. Too hot. Coming back down”. About 20 minutes later I was reunited with Ma and Pa, red faced and drenched in sweat. That climb is a bullet I’m thankful I dodged. We ate lunch at the same pizzeria and then decided to get lost in the winding ways of the town.

Most of the shops in town sell either typical souvenirs and tchotchkes, antiques or cat-themes wares, interspersed with cafes and wine bars.

After stopping for another drink, we walked back to the port to hop on our electric water taxi back to Perast. One of the ferryman asked about my tattoos and said how an artist that he knows will be charging him $1200 for a full sleeve. He spotted my Baba Yaga’s hut and noted that in the Balkans they have a similar folk character, but she’s knows as Baba Roga.

By the time we arrived back in Perast it was time for dinner, so we had chicken cooked over an open flame, local bread and beer, then headed back to our room for the night.