Kotor: Fjord Perfect

Kotor, Montenegro is that rarest of entities – a town on a Mediterranean fjord. Think of Norway or Milford Sound in New Zealand - only with added sunshine. Admittedly it's quite cloudy when I'm in the Bay of Kotor, but that is understandable for early winter. I’m staying five or six kilometres outside town in a village called Prcanj, having been talked into accepting a €15 room at a private home by a taxi driver at the unassuming Kotor bus station when I arrived this morning after a dazzling coastal 30 minute bus drive from Budva.

But the driver (who owns the house) was happy to take me back to the station tomorrow morning and I was happy to walk the distance today sans bags. He offered me some local firewater at his house which I turned down, preferring to stay sober in Kotor at 8am. He also offered me a lift back into town which I also refused. It was a lovely walk along the narrow road beside the fjord. At the station he told me it was “just 2 kilometres” but a road sign tells me Kotor’s “stari grad” (old town) is “8kms” away. Neither my landlord nor the Kotor council are right, it’s closer to 5km and it takes me just under an hour to make the trip around the bay.

Kotor is possibly the most stunning place I’ve stayed in two months of travel. I climbed the city walls 500m above the town to San Giovanni fortress. There has been a fortification on this site since the Byzantine emperor Justinian sent the Goths packing in 535AD. No visable Goths or Visigoths today or indeed any other sign of humanity. I was supposed to have paid €2 entry fee but there is no-one here to collect it. I have the entire mountain to myself.

At the top, I stare out towards the exit of the fjord though I cannot see the Adriatic from here hidden behind the tall mountains on either side of the fjord. The Montenegrin flag flies proudly from the top of the fortress. The water looks perfectly still and hardly a sound from the old city penetrates this far up. The flag has stopped fluttering as the wind has died down and all I can hear is the barking of distant dogs.

I climb back down to the old town which is beautifully preserved and full of young people. The town is proud of its nightlife and the city has a carnival atmosphere in summer. It is a lot quieter in November, but there are occasional echoes of Kotor notoriety. Everything happens under the watchful eye of Mount Lovcen.

Kotor’s heyday was the Middle Ages when it served as an important artistic and commercial centre. Called Cattaro, it was an independent republic from 1395 to 1420. From 1420 to 1797 Cattaro fell into the hands of Venice. The Venetian influence is evident in the architecture. By the treaty of Campo Formio in 1797 it was acquired by Austria. Then at the end of World War I, Kotor became part of Yugoslavia, where it remained (apart from brief Italian hegemony during WWII) until the country’s breakup in 1992.

Many of Kotor’s monuments including the fortress were badly damaged by the devastating 1979 earthquake, which measured eight on the Richter scale. Kotor’s old town was restored with UNESCO help. But Montenegro is no longer impoverished and the country is making rapid strides towards western European standards, evident in Kotor’s more expensive shops.

Things are still cheap enough here generally though as more people discover this magnificent unspoilt coastline (and proceed to spoil it) that will change. Already the Hotel Splendido down the road charges €160 a night according to mine host, a local whose house has splendido fjord views of its own. Viva Cattora!

The Full Montenegro

Having safely jumped the Albanian hurdle, it was time to check out the delights of Montenegro. I was in Ulcinq, the first town across the border. Immediately I felt a wealth that was not present in Shqipëria. Montenegro was seriously courting the EU and its money. Even at the border the flag flying was not the new red and yellow Montenegrin flag with its coat of arms of Nicola I (Montenegro’s only ever king whose reign was cut short by the end of World War I) but instead the blue EU flag with its 15 yellow stars. And the roads to the coast were being upgraded courtesy of Brussels’ grants too.

But the most noticeable marker of their ticket to prosperity is the currency. Montenegro switched from the DeutschMark to the Euro in 2002. On the switchover the Montenegrin government deliberately asked for as many small coins as possible so that shopkeepers would avoid the temptation to jack up prices and fuel inflation. That may have worked as an economic measure to begin with, but there is little doubt that Montenegro, while still relatively cheap, is quickly catching up with mainstream European prices.

Its efforts to go European are in marked contrast with its relationship with its most powerful neighbour and former ruler Serbia. Montenegro dissolved the union with Belgrade in 2006 after a referendum. There was a 55 percent threshold required and it was just passed with 55.5 percent voting in favour of full independence. Podgorica became the world’s newest capital city. But I gave Podgorica a miss. Nothing terribly much against it, and it is supposedly pretty enough by other accounts, but I wanted to stay on the coast and eventually get to Dubrovnik.

Ulcinq bus station would be my springboard. Ideally I wanted to get to Kotor, sited at the head of the Mediterranean’s only fjord. But there didn’t seem to be a bus for several hours. A German I’d met in the hostel in Tirana had recommended a closer town, Budva, as a nice place to visit too. Noticing there was a bus direct to Budva in an hour’s time, that was good enough incentive for me. I booked a ticket and sat down for a couple of very enjoyable local pivos (beers) while waiting.

When the bus got going we quickly headed to the coast and stayed there for the remainder of the trip. The scenery was gloriously spectacular. The mountains hugged the coast and roads peered over the Adriatic while dipping under cliffs. We zigzagged our way slowly north. I was happy to go slow as it meant more time to admire the view and take photographs. It was like driving Victoria’s Great Ocean Road, only complete with 14th century old towns every twenty or thirty kms (I wonder what Lorne will look like in 2508?) The bus stopped in several of these towns and a couple of times I was half tempted to get out and spend the night there on spec. It is little wonder that Montenegrin tourism is on the rise, the country is a hidden wonder.

After about 90 minutes, the bus arrived at Budva bus station. Next door was a tourist bureau where I asked was there any cheap and nearby accommodation in town. The well spoken lady there told me I could stay in a “private residence” for 12 euros. That was ok by me. All along the coast I had seen signs for "sobe/rooms/zimmer/camera" advertising in four languages the fact that rooms to rent in private homes were commonplace. The lady made a phone call and then told my landlady would be here in three minutes. Good, I thought, she can’t be driving too far. Even better still when she arrived, I discovered she had walked and I would be staying a handy three minutes from the bus station when I needed to leave in the morning,

The accommodation itself was pleasant. A small room with ensuite totally separate from the main entrance and just a ten minute walk to the ‘stari grad’ (old city). Budva is one of the oldest towns on the Adriatic with at least 2,500 years of continuous settlement. Its old town is not quite of that vintage but was built by the Venetians in the Middle Ages. Venice grew wealthy on trade and acquired a network of cities on the Dalmatian coast from the Hungarians who were devastated by civil war.

Budva is reliant on the old town and nearby beaches to bring in the tourists. The city has expanded drastically in the 1990s and many locals have become cashed up by selling their properties to wealthy British, Irish and Russian citizens. Russians first came to Budva looking for bargains after the end of the Balkan Wars in the 1990s and they have kept coming. The local mayor Lazar Radenovic told the New York Times Russians were attracted to the Balkans by a cultural connection stretching back to the 18th century. Serbia and Montenegro share a Slavic Orthodox identity with Russia. “When Russians come here,” he said, “they don’t feel like we have crossed over the border.”

trying to tour Tirana to Ulcinq

It's time to leave Albania. There are decent bus connections out of Tirana to all of the countries Albania shares a border with - except one. That one is the recently independent Montenegro, on the coast directly north. And that’s annoying because that is where I want to go next. The two nations are not on the best neighbourly terms, for reasons I have yet to fathom. However, from scattergun research, I believe it is possible to get across the border from the northern city of Shkodra.

Supposedly, I read, there are buses there that meet the “furgons” from Tirana. Every country around the eastern Med has its own word for minibus. Turks make do with “dolmus” while you need to take a “sherut” to get around in Israel. Here in Albania, its a "furgon". A furgon is simply a van with eight to ten seats that doesn’t set off for its destination until every seat is full. Because of this, a set arrival time is no furgon conclusion and I’m happy to take a proper coach to Shkodra which gets me in at 10am. I’m hoping then that somehow I will be able to find the bus to Ulcinq (the first town across the border in Montenegro).

This is easier said than done as Albania does not believe in bus stations, and you have to be aware of where people congregate which is often at makeshift shelters. The other problem I have is conflicting information. One source tells me there are supposedly two or three buses a day to Ulcinq though I read elsewhere there is only one, and that leaves at 9am, worryingly an hour before I am due to arrive. And I don’t really want to stay in Ulcinq itself as there is not much there, but I might have to if I get there late.

The following morning I set off from Tirana. Encouragingly the bus leaves on time at 8am. It is barely 80km between Albania’s two largest cities but the journey takes two hours on crowded and narrow two-lane roads. But it eventually arrives in the centre of Shkodra at 10am. I ask the driver where I might find a bus to Montenegro. He grunts and points in the direction of a large hotel on the other side of the busy square where we park.

But I am barely half way across the road when I’m accosted by a taxi driver who speaks English.
“Montenegro?” he said, “Ulcinq?”
Maybe, I replied hesitantly, clearly unnerved by his prescience.
“I take you there for 30 euro”. This is at least four or five times the price of the bus there.
I shake my head and say “No, I’ll take the bus”.
“Bus is gone,” he said. “9 o'clock”.
“But there must be another one later today?”
"No", he replied, "not till 9 tomorrow”.

I was not sure whether to believe him but his words did tally with the more pessimistic information I’d received the day before. And even if there was a second bus, it was likely not to being going until late afternoon. Then there is problem of actually proving there was a second bus with little or no customer information available. At least this guy could get me over the border quickly and I had a chance of getting on to one of the nicer Montenegrin places like Budva or Kotor tonight. So I tried haggling.
“20 euros,” I said.
“no, no, 30” he insisted.
So I started to walk on towards the hotel.
This has a reaction. “25 euros, lowest price”, he said. I think about this some more and finally accept the 25 euro fare. The advantages outweigh the expensive disadvantage and the uncertainty of the bus.

And so we set out for Montenegro. The first obstacle was the long single lane bridge over the river that leads north out of Shkodra. From here there were signposts telling the distance to all points north including Dubrovnik, Belgrade and even Vienna, some 1,200kms away. But never mind Vienna, it was proving difficult enough to get one kilometre out of town. The rule of this particularly road was whoever got to the halfway point of the bridge first had right of way. The loser had to reverse all the way back to the side he or she came from. It can become hairy when drivers on both side put the pedal down in that elusive race to get to the middle first. My driver failed on the first attempt and swore profusely in Albanian, but otherwise accepted the outcome as he reversed back muttering darkly all the while.

The second attempt was more promising and he easily made the middle ground first and even got two-thirds of the way across when confronted with the other driver. But hold on, the other driver and the driver behind her got out to remonstrate with my driver and after much shouting and gesticulating it seemed somehow they won. There was even more swearing and a shrug of the shoulders. “Ach, Albania!” he said to be me as he reversed back once more. I just smiled back. I didn’t understand why it was still his obligation to reverse until the two cars came across and one was towing the other. So normal reversing rules could not apply.

At the third attempt, my swearing Albanian made it over the river, sending another non-towing car reversing back to the opposite side. I was then surprised how quickly we made it to the border, it was only about 5 or 6kms away. At the border the driver unscrewed his Albanian taxi sign and had to cough up five euros to get into Montenegro. It cost me nothing with my EU passport.

We quickly made it on another 15km to Ulcinq bus station where I thanked him and handed over the 25 euros we’d agreed. But he wanted more. “Border visa“ he said, darkly. “Five euro”. Ah, I didn’t look at the fine print of the contract, it seemed I would have to pay his visa and he would get his 30 euro after all. I wasn’t happy but he agreed to accept the balance out of my otherwise worthless collection of Albanian leks, which, given the testy relations between the two countries, probably would have been too difficult to exchange anyway. I gave him the money and sent back to his Shkodra bridge race. I was now at a real bus station, with real information and hopefully a real timetable that would see me end up in Budva or Kotor for the night.

Montenegro splits from Serbia

Montenegro is the world's newest independent nation and the last of the old Yugoslav states to split from Belgrade.

Brokered by the EU, the Union of Serbia and Montenegro was born in 2003. The aim was to settle Montenegrin independence demands and stabilise Balkan borders. The union deal also contained the seeds of its dissolution. After three years the two republics could hold referendums on whether to keep or scrap it. And so, on May 22, 2006 Montenegro narrowly voted for independence from the union with Serbia. 55.4% of the voters had voted to secede, just above the 55% required for victory. The turnout in the May 21 poll was 86.3%.

The issue of independence divided Montenegro, with opponents arguing that Montenegro had too much to lose with its broad economic, family and political ties with Serbia. The opposition movement was a loose coalition of Serb politicians, Orthodox Church leaders and Montenegrins from the mountainous inland regions near the Serbian border. The move to secede was supported by long-standing Prime Minister Milo Djukanovic who believes that independence will strengthen his country’s chance of joining the EU. He was supported by ethnic Montenegrins and Albanians from the coastal area who feared Serbian dominance of the union.

A Serbian Government press release on June 5 confirmed the decision to transfer jurisdiction. According to the release, the decision obliges Serbia to take the necessary measures within 45 days to make Serbia the international legal successor of Serbia-Montenegro. It affirmed also that association with the EU was Serbia’s ‘strategic and national goal.’

Montenegro’s position on the Adriatic Sea means that Serbia is now a landlocked country. This fact strengthens Montenegro’s position in negotiations with Serbia. It leaves Serbia in a similar position to Ethiopia who lost its coast in the 1990s to newly created Eritrea.

The last time Montenegro was independent was 90 years ago at the end of World War I, when it was absorbed into the newly formed Yugoslavia. Podgorica will become the world’s newest capital city. In 1946 Podgorica was renamed Titograd in honour of the post-war communist leader of the country. The name of Podgorica was reinstated on April 2, 1992.

Montenegro has a population of 700,000 people. The name Montenegro means “black mountain” in Venetian language. The Montenegrin word for their country "Crna Gora" also means black mountain. It is named for the dark forests that covered the slopes of the Dinaric Alps. The earliest known independent ruler of the area was the 11th century dukedom of Dukjla. They paid tribute to the Byzantine Empire and were replaced by the Zetans in the 14th century. The Ottoman Empire was now on the march but never fully conquered mountainous Zeta. From then on, the country was ruled by a series of "vladika," prince-bishops, who formed a theocratic state. It was transformed into a secular principality in 1852 and in 1910, Prince Nikola I became King of Montenegro. Nikola declared war on the Turks and precipitated the two Balkan Wars. Montenegro doubled in size as a result of these wars. It was allied with Serbia in World War I and was occupied by the Austrian Empire.

After the war, parliament voted for a union with Serbia which was finally ratified in 1924 after a bitter civil war against anti-unionists. It became part of the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes which renamed itself to Yugoslavia in 1929. During World War II, it was occupied by Italian and then German troops. It became a separate state of Yugoslavia after the war ended. War resistance leader Josip Broz Tito kept the federation together until he died in 1980. His death brought on a slow unravelling of the six states. When Yugoslavia finally broke up in 1992, Montenegro held a bitterly fought election which voted for federation with Serbia. The election was boycotted by pro-independence factions. Relations steadily soured with its major partner as Montenegro became more independent. In 1996, Djukanovic’s government severed de facto ties and adopted the Deutsche Mark as currency (since replaced by the Euro.) In 2003, the two sides agreed to replace the Yugoslav federation in favour of a looser state union named Serbia and Montenegro. The path was finally cleared for the independence referendum.

Though Montenegro is the last state to break free from Yugoslavia, it does not necessarily mean the end of the Balkan conflicts. The prime minister of Kosovo, Agim Çeku, has signalled that they would be next in the quest for independence, saying "This is the last act of the historic liquidation of Yugoslavia…this year Kosovo will follow in Montenegro's footsteps." Kosovo is currently administered by the UN, but is seen by Serbs as the historical and spiritual heart of Serbia. The status of Republica Srpska, the Serb-controlled enclave in Bosnia also remains on knife-edge, with ethnic Serbs looking for a referendum of their own to rejoin Serbia. Such a move could start another war in Bosnia as it has provoked widespread condemnation from the Muslim majority and the West. Permanent peace still eludes this beautiful but complex part of the world.

Although the future is likely to rain on its parade, right now Montenegro justly celebrates its new nationhood.