Mostar, Bosnia. 9th October 2024.

Out of Bosnia and into Montenegro was the plan for today. Patchy rain gave me slippery roads, but it dried out soon enough.
I wanted to visit Tjentiste Spomenik on the way. They’d very ‘thoughtfully’ placed it up the top of a hill, giving me a warm walk. But it was worth the effort. Dark grey and white, with protruding angles. It was set out very nicely in a memorial park, with a wooded hillside as a backdrop.

Then I headed to the Montenegran border. At the barrier a guy came out and checked my passport. “There is a problem,” he said. “This border is for local people only.” “Oh for crying out loud,” I thought. “I’ve done it again!” He gave me directions to the correct crossing and off I went. At least I’d only gone 14 kms out of my way, not 600kms, which is what I did in Kazakhstan when going to Russia.
When I got to the correct place I found, oddly, there was no Bosnian checkpoint at all. I even went looking for it. I was stamped into Montenegro very quickly. Job done!

Monte Negro translates as Black Mountain, a reference to Mount Lovcen. The areas closest to its shared borders are mountainous, with only the coastal area being flat. It was not occupied by the Ottomans but did become part of Yugoslavia. After Yugoslavia broke up it was effectively part of Serbia. But nationalism led to it leaving the Serbian Federation and becoming independent in June 2006. Fortunately it did not get dragged into the Bosnian war.

I rode to Niksic, past some stunning scenery. At one point I stopped to photo Bileca Lake. It has dozens of islands across its waters and the hills on the opposite side had some weird cloud formations. I found my apartment easily. It was nice, with modern plumbing. Such a pleasant change.

The owner had recommended a restaurant, which was just around the corner. A young guy in there helped me with the menu (in Bosnian) and persuaded me to have a local dish of Popeci Na Podgoricki Nacin. Slices of veal rolled over and stuffed with cheese, then wrapped in flour and baked. It was very good although I was unhappy about so much cheese. I had a salad to go with it which also had cheese on it. €12.50, so not a bad price. Not having a beer was my way to try to be healthy.
Next day I wasn’t sure whether to stay in Niksic or move on. But the weather was good and I decided to remain where I was and explore locally. A good decision because I got no rain.

I headed up to Durmitor National Park via Piva Canyon Viewpoint. The road that went up through the hills from there was very narrow and had tunnels which had been blasted out of the rock and left unfinished. Quite tricky.

A steady ride got me up to the Durmitor view point where there’s a large wooden frame through which you can photo the view. A great idea. I helped some other people by taking their photo in the frame.

Further on there was another view point. I stopped there and got chatting to a young woman who was asking me about the road I’d just come along. Then her friends got out of the car and joined in. So I took off my helmet and earplugs to be able to chat properly. They’re all from London. We had a good laugh, I took their photo-in-the-frame for them, and took one of them for myself. Four of them in total, three of whose names ended in Y. A very enjoyable chance meeting.

I carried on down the mountain (about 1950 metres at the top), stopping to take photos of a tarn surrounded by autumn coloured leaves. Then I rejoined the main road up to the Tara Gorge viewpoint. A lovely road with great bends. None of the roads were busy but there was traffic around, including on the mountain.
The view of the river and gorge from the bridge was excellent. The bridge itself looked good too. I ate my lunch and got a coffee. I chatted to some Italian bikers who were having a bit of a Balkans holiday. Then it was a good ride back to the town. It threatened rain but none came in the end. But it definitely got chilly at times. My decision to stay was more than justified.

Then followed a very enjoyable riding day. I left just after 10 and headed down to Podgorica. I managed to find the hostel and got booked in. I spoke to a young woman there who’d stayed the previous night. “Look out for bedbugs” she said. Hmm. One of the reviews had mentioned that. I paid up and dumped my bag on a bed, then headed for the hills.
The bike was running really smoothly and the average fuel consumption reading on the instuments got as high as 34.7 kms per litre!! Amazing. That was borne out when I next filled up, with 31.55 being the actual figure. There’s no doubt but that these small engines are far happier on back roads, going up and down through the gears.
For reasons I don’t understand Google tried to put me on the motorway, which was a toll road. So it was ignoring two instructions. I just took the old road and let it sort itself out. I was heading up into the hills again, to Berane and Jasovic.
The road up was really nice. A great surface and well mannered bends. The only thing I didn’t like were the tunnels. With water dripping from the rocky roofs and no lighting at all, they put the wind up me a bit. I just didn’t trust the road surface.

As had been stated on Google maps, the cultural centre In Berane was being refurbished. But there was a nice memorial statue and a fountain, in a small square. So that was something to look at. I found a café and had a decent size cup of coffee to go with my lunch.
The next place wasn’t far. Only about 30 mins to Jasovic. I was looking for another spomenik and had to wander about a bit to find it. Then it was a steep walk up a path with steps. But boy, was it worth it.

This is easily my favourite spomenik seen so far. It’s a tall, conical monument, built at one edge of a circle of memorial stones, carved with the names of the dead partisans. It’s surrounded by tall conifers and absolutely defines the purpose of these memorials – very special places for the remembrance of very special people. It’s the kind of place that makes you feel very small.

Another enjoyable ride back, despite a shower of rain. Google tried to do it again with the motorway and again I ignored it.
Back at the hostel I changed then walked into town to look at the Millenium Bridge, then made my way back to Independence Square. The bridge was a nice example of modern engineering. The square was an example of how to waste a large space. There was hardly anything there. Just a statue of a king.
I walked around trying to find places to eat. Then I remembered about the Old Bridge and walked down there. It’s a low level stone bridge over the Ribnica River where it joins the Moraca River. It looks good and is reckoned to be from Roman times.

I walked back to the town centre and happened to see a café that had a servery with hot food. Just right! I had some meat with veg, some Bosnian rice (not very nice rice) and some bread. And a coke. Yet again, no beer! It had been a week. I’d been trying to not bother drinking a beer I didn’t really enjoy very much.
I needed a shower and a shave but the bathroom was too bad for even me to use. No hot water at the sink and no mirror either. Scabby and shabby. Tomorrow will have to do.
In the morning I found a bed bug on my arm, filled with my blood. I showed it to the hostel guy and he showed me his arms and legs, which were covered in bruises from where they’d been feasting on him. I asked him why they didn’t get the place fumigated. Or better yet, burn it down! I got out of there as quickly as I could. I don’t like being animal food.

Montenegros’ capital hadn’t treated me all that well so I hoped for better things from Kotor, a town on the coast. And I’m happy to say that I found them. A chilly ride over the hills but warm down below. The hostel was next to a marina so had a very pleasant outlook. In complete contrast to where I’d just left, this one was a pleasure to be at. Very well organised. Each bed had curtains, a socket and a reading light. A large locker for my gear and excellent bathrooms. It was exactly how such places should be. OK, it was twice the price, but I had no objection to that, given the quality.

Once settled in I walked round to the old town. It’s a really atmospheric place. There’s an old fort high up on the hill, but with 1200 steps to get up to it I didn’t bother. I did go up on the walls and walked around them. But mostly I just wandered the old, narrow streets, exploring the nooks and crannies. I was looking for a cheap eatery but there wasn’t much chance of finding one in there. The streets were busy with tourists. It was a lovely afternoon and the trades people must have been delighted. There were lots of things to take photos of.

Sitting just behind the hostel was a restaurant specialising in BBQ food. I had a pork steak, with roasted veges and some salad, all served up by a cheery guy who spoke, and joked, in good English. “It will take 25 minutes”, he said. So I took the opportunity to go back to the hostel for my delayed shower and shave, and enjoyed it very much too. Then I went back and enjoyed the food.
I was now at the point in my journey where I needed to obtain a Carnet de Passages en Douanes, for my bike. It wouldn’t be very long before I’d be going to countries that demanded it. It was a simple online process but I needed to sign one of the forms. The hostel staff were happy to print the page off, I signed it and they scanned it back in for me. I was also going to order a couple of things I needed. The plan was for base camp to send me those things, and the CdP, to an address in Turkey for me to collect. When all of that was organised, a feeling of relief ensued.

This was followed by another border crossing day. I retraced my wheeltracks, back up to where I’d seen the spotemik, via Podgeric. Google, once again, tried to send me up the motorway. Maybe it’s too new to be recognised as a tolled motorway yet?
A good day, feeling a bit chilly a lot of the time. I stopped for coffee and brunch at a garage. I tried to find out the price of fuel in Kosovo because I wasn’t sure whether to fill up in Montenegro or to wait. I filled up in the end, with fuel having seemed to have gone up to €1.41. That turned out to be a mistake because it was only €1.26 in Kosovo. It doesn’t really matter much does it. I’m only buying about 10 litres at a time.
The exit point from Montenegro was up at 1750 metres. The Kosovo border was 5kms further and 500 metres lower. Annoyingly I had to buy insurance as they don’t recognise the green card insurance I’d already bought. Fortunately the woman charged me only €6, despite the list on display showing €10. I didn’t mind. It’s valid for 15 days. I didn’t bother with a phone package. I was expecting to be there for only 3-4 days and I hoped to be able to rely on maps.me for navigation and wi-fi when I needed it. Kosovo uses the Euro despite not even being a member of the EU. There’s a few other countries around the edge of the EU that do the same.

I settled in to the hostel in Peja with a cup of coffee. It’s a very good place. Clean and tidy. The room is good, with a shared toilet. The guy who took my money (brother of the woman who owns the place) suggested somewhere for me to go to eat. I followed his suggestion and enjoyed the food.
I had been planning to spend only one night here but a dodgy stomach next morning told me to stay put. A warning not to be ignored. But later on I was able to do another little admin job. I needed to post a couple of photos back to base camp, for my International Driving Permits. I walked to the nearest post office but the woman there refused to post the envelope because it had photos in it. How stupid is that?
So I walked down into the town to the main branch and sent it from there. They don’t do airmail and the guy reckoned it would take a week to ten days. It had a barcode on the envelope and I have a receipt, so I guess it’s tracked in some way. But it got there with no problem.
While walking around I’d spotted a restaurant where they served very cheap Italian dishes, so I went there for tea. €7 for mushroom soup and spaghetti bolagnaise. Both very good. The town centre had a large square, with plenty of eating places around. Peja was an old town but didn’t have anything of particular note to look at. Now feeling more trusting of my dodgy stomach I took a walk around just to enjoy the evening. There were lots of teenagers around, all very cheerful and having fun.

Next place was Pristina, Kosovo’s capital. Kosovo broke away from Serbia in 2008, unilaterally declaring independence. The majority of UN members recognise the state, but not Serbia, which still regards it as its territory. But Kosovo is ethnically closer to Albania, hence the separation.
There were a couple of places I wanted to visit in Pristina.

The first was the Cathedral of Mother Teresa, but I only stopped to take a photo out of curiosity. I completely failed to understand why Kosovans would dedicate a cathedral to an Indian woman. I had no interest in going inside because I didn’t like her.

Then I went to the Gracanica Orthodox Monastery. It was built in the 14th century and has a great range of Frescos, most in excellent condition. Free to get in too. An unassumimg building, but with style.

I’d booked another apartment. It wasn’t what I’d call a real apartment. More a hotel room with a kettle and a fridge. But it wasn’t in a traditional hotel setting so I suppose it counts as one.
I made tea, ate lunch and loafed around. After a while I walked down to the nearby bakery, ordered some things then realised I’d forgotten my wallet. I had to walk back up the steep hill to get it, then do it all again. But I suppose the exercise didn’t hurt me.
Next day I left Pristina and went to see Prizren Fortress. It took a while to find. Maps.me isn’t very good with these difficult to find places. The mapping software doesn’t seem to react quickly enough to my mistakes. Mind you, Google isn’t always good either. I suppose it’s a result of being offline. I just kept turning up ever steeper roads, and eventually a dirt road, until I got there.
It’s a big place but is all ruins. I was able to walk all around it, including the ‘secret’ passages, used when under attack. Interesting to see though. It was built by the Byzantine Empire, expanded by the Serbian Empire, then even more so during the five hundred years of Ottoman occupation. As it sits above the Prizren River it became a very important place for them. I bought an ice cream to finish off the tour.

I found a service station, where I fueled up and had coffee and lunch. Then I thought it would be a good idea to get Euros while I could, looking ahead to Iran and Africa. I found an ATM in a nearby town.
Fueled up, fortified, and flush with cash, it was time to head to Albania. But what did I think of Kosovo? Very busy and industrial, with very little to see. If you were to ask me, “Should I go there?” I’d say, “Don’t bother”.