The moment I walked into the old walled city of Kotor, Montenegro, I felt my whole body relax. I didn’t realize how on guard I had been in all of Albania, and instinctively let that guard down as I walked through the charming cobblestone alleyways of the town, lined with shops, cafes, boutique hotels and tourists info kiosks. Everything felt so refined, so smooth, so… much less edgy.
Kotor is located in the southeast corner of the huge deep water Boka Bay, with steep limestone mountains that descend into the azure bay. Above the city, an old fortress watches over the city, with impressive walls that scale the nearly sheer mountainside, dotted with churches here and there.
I checked into my hostel, where I splurged and got a private room, because after sleeping in dorm rooms for 6 days, I was pretty maxxed out on socializing and felt the need for some personal space. After all, I’m 34 for fuck sake, and don’t even want to try to keep up with these bright eyed kids 10 years younger than me.
My room surpassed my expectations, with a window that looked down on a lovely and lively square. I only reveled in it for a bit before I decided to go for a swim in the bay. It had been too long since I was in salt water, and my gills were starting to dry up. I went for a quick swim, but in the past few weeks the Mediterranean has cooled down quite a bit. I watched the sun set behind the hill before I headed back to the hostel. I (kind of) wish I could say that I met amazing people and went out and partied hard, but I really didn’t in Kotor. I feel like experiencing the nightlife is a fun aspect of traveling, but after nearly 3 months on the road, I’m kind of beat.
Aside from hiking up to the fortress, my first full day in Kotor I took it pretty easy. The fortress had stunning views of the bay and it was pretty wild to think of all of the manual labor that went into building it, without modern day machinery. I’m pretty sure most of the fortress was built by slaves who were killed if they didn’t do their jobs, and if that isn’t incentive for hard work, I don’t know what is.
If you can’t tell, I’ve gotten really into mountains and finding water sources other than the ocean, so the next day I signed up for a day tour that took us to the north of the country to a river, a lake and a church. At 7am a group of 16 of us were loaded onto a bus, and proceeded to be carted around by a very informative tour guide for the next 14 hours.
Our first real stop was Tara Canyon, which is apparently the deepest canyon in Europe, and allegedly second only to the Grand Canyon, but I’m not sure if I believe that. It was, however, absolutely stunning. The bright tourmaline (yes I’m digging for words to describe all the mind blowing blues, greens and blue greens I’ve seen) river cut through the valley like resin art through wood. The whole scene would have almost felt fake if not for the icy wind waking me up and the warm sun making it delightfully pleasant. There were zip lines crossing the valley, but we only had a half hour to enjoy the place, so I opted to walk the bridge and stare into the cerulean aquamarine of the water.
A note on traveling on a shoulder season: being in the Balkans in October has been incredible. The weather has been absolutely perfect, and the trees… don’t even get me started on the trees. The majority of tourists have left, so there is always availability on busses, in hostels and on tours. The locals are more relaxed, however they had a massive tourist season and are pretty over serving, guiding, and cleaning up after us — some people more explicit about it than others. Everyone is surprised at how long into October the season has extended, but climate change is real. However, some tours have stopped, like the canyoning tour and river rafting in the north of Montenegro, both of which I want to do. I’m looking at it as a compelling reason to come back.
I could have spent the day at Tara canyon, but I didn’t want the tour to leave without me, so I obediently got back on the bus, only to have my mind blown at the next stop. I had never heard of Black Lake, but as we hiked through Durmitor National Park, I realized I was in a very special place. The forest was thick with various species of pines, oaks, ash and many more trees I couldn’t identify. Then the trees opened and we came across a jade green clear, sheet glass, glacial lake. Like, wow.
I didn’t have any expectations for the tour, but I’d like to think if I had them, they would have been blown away. We were given one hour to do as we liked at the lake. I spotted a row boat rental and attempted to rent one, but shoulder season woes — there was nobody around to rent a boat from. I settled for an awe and gratitude inspiring hike around the lake.
From the frost on the ground in the shaded areas to the reflection of the colorful mountains in the lake, I was in love with the place. This was another gem I could have easily spent a day exploring. Alas, I didn’t want to get left behind, and the next stop was lunch, so I dutifully got back on the bus, my heart aching at the beauty and short amount of time I got to spend there.
After lunch we piled on the bus and drove up to the monastery of Saint Basil, because no European tour is complete without a visit to a religious site. By this time the sun was setting, and we got to hear the Eastern Orthodox version of a call to prayer. As I looked over the sweeping view of the Montenegrin countryside, I had a moment to ponder this tiny, curious country, full of history, incredible natural beauty, and laid back, welcoming people. I only spent three nights in Montenegro, and it was just enough to know that, should I come back here, so much more adventure awaits.
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