We took a taxi from Shkoder, across the border into Montenegro, and on to the airport at Podgorica. There we bid our friend Robin and Bill good travels as they went on to Belgrade and a quick tour of Serbia (we follow those footsteps tomorrow) and we rented a car and drove north to Kotor.
We noticed right away that roads, infrastructure in general, are in much better shape in Montenegro than Albania. Highways are wide enough for two, even three lanes of traffic and hotel and housing construction seems ubiquitous. Our first stop was on the northern edge of Lake Shkoder (the southern end is in Albania) for a deliscious lunch of baked fish.
The road to Kotor winds around and through steep mountains and beautiful bays. One tunnel was at least 4 kilometers long (we’ve driven through 12-15 tunnels in this lowish income country - how did we in Seattle agonize and fret over one little tunnel for the past decade!).
Kotor is a fairly touristy town, with the old town surrounded by a mostly intact ancient wall and mote and towered over by a fort and wall that edge up an extraordinarily steep mountainside. Why they feared an invasion from above, we’ll never know; hard to imagine any army risking that vertical barrier.
The area is popular for local and European holiday-goers, as well as the almost daily cruise ships (of various types) who’s cargo inundated the old city.
We stayed at an AirBnB ostensibly hosted by a young woman but, in reality, by her father, Mr. Matkovic (I forget his first name). He was born in the old city of Kotor, and the old stone house in front of the somewhat newer structure whose “penthouse” we stayed in, was his wife’s grandfather’s. It- and the two adjacent houses were built around 400 years ago. During the “communist time,” around 1980, MNr. Matkovic got concerned that the empty lot behind the old stone house would be prey for some party hack who wanted to build somewhere, so he built the “new” house to ward off any such intrusion. It was a weird building, and our studio was cramped. But we did have a tiny balcony that looked out to the bay, which - being right across the street - we same in several times.
We drove around much of this butterfly-shaped bay, walked an ancient salt plan that had provided locals their main income as far back the the mid-1300’s, and had a pair of massages that were moderately helpful (to Kate) and worthless (to Aaron). But the highlight of our stay in Kotor was a drive up the serpentine road that snaked around 25 hairpin turns (they were numbered) and provided awesome views of the whole area.
The destination of the drive was Mt. Lovcen, where a popularly elected bishop and prince, Njegos, who ruled Montenegro in the first half of the 1800s, is buried. We started at sea level and ended a mile high in just over 20 kilometers. The mausoleum took 5 years to build and provides stunning views of the surrounding mountains and the old capital of Cetinje, once you climb the 461 steps from the parking area.
The mausoleum was clearly a feat of construction, involving endless tons of granite, including the 28 ton block used to carve the bishop-prince’s image (that’s Montenegro’s symbol behind him, an eagle with outstretched wings):
... and the more modest 8-ton blocks used to carve the figures at the entry way:
We had a great time in Kotor, but have since moved on to the cold and rainy mountains of Durmitor National Park. More on that in the next post.
We noticed right away that roads, infrastructure in general, are in much better shape in Montenegro than Albania. Highways are wide enough for two, even three lanes of traffic and hotel and housing construction seems ubiquitous. Our first stop was on the northern edge of Lake Shkoder (the southern end is in Albania) for a deliscious lunch of baked fish.
The road to Kotor winds around and through steep mountains and beautiful bays. One tunnel was at least 4 kilometers long (we’ve driven through 12-15 tunnels in this lowish income country - how did we in Seattle agonize and fret over one little tunnel for the past decade!).
Kotor is a fairly touristy town, with the old town surrounded by a mostly intact ancient wall and mote and towered over by a fort and wall that edge up an extraordinarily steep mountainside. Why they feared an invasion from above, we’ll never know; hard to imagine any army risking that vertical barrier.
The area is popular for local and European holiday-goers, as well as the almost daily cruise ships (of various types) who’s cargo inundated the old city.
We stayed at an AirBnB ostensibly hosted by a young woman but, in reality, by her father, Mr. Matkovic (I forget his first name). He was born in the old city of Kotor, and the old stone house in front of the somewhat newer structure whose “penthouse” we stayed in, was his wife’s grandfather’s. It- and the two adjacent houses were built around 400 years ago. During the “communist time,” around 1980, MNr. Matkovic got concerned that the empty lot behind the old stone house would be prey for some party hack who wanted to build somewhere, so he built the “new” house to ward off any such intrusion. It was a weird building, and our studio was cramped. But we did have a tiny balcony that looked out to the bay, which - being right across the street - we same in several times.
We drove around much of this butterfly-shaped bay, walked an ancient salt plan that had provided locals their main income as far back the the mid-1300’s, and had a pair of massages that were moderately helpful (to Kate) and worthless (to Aaron). But the highlight of our stay in Kotor was a drive up the serpentine road that snaked around 25 hairpin turns (they were numbered) and provided awesome views of the whole area.
That’s Kotor down there.
The destination of the drive was Mt. Lovcen, where a popularly elected bishop and prince, Njegos, who ruled Montenegro in the first half of the 1800s, is buried. We started at sea level and ended a mile high in just over 20 kilometers. The mausoleum took 5 years to build and provides stunning views of the surrounding mountains and the old capital of Cetinje, once you climb the 461 steps from the parking area.
That’s Cetinje behind us.
The rock formations on Mt. Lovcen are a bit of a moonscape.
The mausoleum was clearly a feat of construction, involving endless tons of granite, including the 28 ton block used to carve the bishop-prince’s image (that’s Montenegro’s symbol behind him, an eagle with outstretched wings):
... and the more modest 8-ton blocks used to carve the figures at the entry way:
We had a great time in Kotor, but have since moved on to the cold and rainy mountains of Durmitor National Park. More on that in the next post.
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