Saying goodbye to Sarajevo, I headed south-east towards Montenegro. About 30kms before the border the roads had given up the will to live, making the ride very interesting. The worst part was the many tunnels. There is no lighting in the tunnels and as soon as you enter the tunnel you lose all vision because your eyes are accustomed to the strong sunlight. Even with your headlights it’s hopeless. And when your eyes have started to get used to the darkness – you are back in sunlight again. I got into the habit of closing one eye when I saw a tunnel approaching and then opening my eye when I entered the tunnel. It wasn’t perfect, but it helped. There was one tunnel which was being preparing for re-surfacing and all the top layer of tarmac had been removed leaving coarse hatching. That was a twitchy-bum moment.
Arriving at Scepan Polje and the Bosnian border, the policeman decided he didn’t want to stamp me out and just grunted and waved me on. Just after the post there is a small steel lattice bridge going over a very deep chasm which is lined by wooden planks. Some of the planks were visibly broken and loose, so I stopped, looked and just went for it. While crossing I could feel the planks moving and the back end skitting about so I just closed my eyes and throttled-it. Another twitchy-bum moment…
Arriving at the Montenegro border it was a simple case of passport and V5 – and quickly I was riding through. Heading south-east, I was heading for the Durmitor National Park. The roads cut through the mountains so when you look up you see nothing but cliffs high above you, and as you look down you see sheer chasms below. There are also plenty of dark tunnels to keep you on your toes. Riding up into the Durmitor mountains is an exciting ride, with lots of hairpins and switchbacks and towering cliffs. It was a superb ride.
By lunchtime, and after riding around 130kms, I was in the national park and blown away by the immense beauty of the whole area. The forests, the plains, the roaming horses, and of course – the mountains. There is a small campsite beneath one mountain – the Savin Kik methinks – and I managed to find it. Unfortunately you had to negotiate a very long and steep track to get down. I walked part-way down and it was very loose shale, so deciding it would be foolhardy to even attempt it with all my fully loaded bike I decided to opt for Plan B – which meant riding south to the Adriatic coast and the city of Tivat.
The ride to Tivat was about 150kms and took most of the afternoon. It’s a holiday destination besides the sea so I knew there would be lots of campsites – and I found one just a few Kms outside Tivat. There is an area for tent campers underneath vines, and it’s wonderful as the vines keep the sun off you. It’s only 10eu a night with good showers, so not bad considering it’s location – with the sea across the road and opposite the campsite. If you don’t mind noise but want to be able to swim and sunbathe next to the water – then Camping Verige is fine, with plenty of space. There are only a few toilets and showers, so you have to time it right.
While here I rode about 40 minutes east then south to a ‘secret submarine bunker’. It was a long tunnel dug into the cliffs to house submarines belonging to the Yugoslav Navy, and it was very impressive. Getting down there was a bit dicey as the road had been dug up to stop campervans going down. Apparently campervans used to get stuck regularly, so its ben made impassable for four wheels. With two-wheels and a bit of care, I managed to get down on the bike.
It was really weird seeing this relic of the cold war, and the work that went into making it. I estimate you could have fit two submarines in there. Maybe three. On the way back up the hill I dropped the bike. Same old thing, big loose stones and not enough gas. I could feel it going so hopped off like a scalded cat. One of the reasons I got this bike was that its a bike I can easily pick up – and I did – and soon I was up and away, and heading back to town.
Tivat is based on the old 13th century fortifications (Venetians I think) and it was built up and extended in the 1400’s and 1600’s. The ‘old town’ is within the fortifications, with the new town surrounding it. It feels strange walking through narrow streets of the old town knowing these buildings have been occupied since the middle ages and still being used today as shops and homes.
So, back to the campsite and being next to a main road it is a bit busy during the daytime, though the traffic does die down late at night. This afternoon there was a very loud disco blaring from the adjacent beachfront bar which has made me decide to move on, so tomorrow I am heading for Albania. It should be good…
