A visit to Ulcinj, Montenegro

I was totally engrossed in the magnificent scenery on our way from Dubrovnik to Montenegro. It became even more stunning as we progressed southward. What a coastline! I vaguely remember the border crossing, and I did sit up and take notice when, according to Google Maps, we appeared to be in the middle of the Bay of Kotor. Oh, we were on a ferry. Cool!

Otherwise, I have a hazy recollection of Her Ladyship freaking out when they couldn’t find the campsites they were searching for or when the roads we were on simply petered out. His Lordship’s huffing and puffing as he turned the caravan around on numerous occasions was quite disturbing at times too. But I tuned them out. Leave them at it, I thought, this place is heaven!

It was only when we pulled into our final resting place (so to speak) that I realised that the Wingless Wonders had once again surpassed themselves. In their attempts to find a campsite in Montenegro, they had almost managed to miss out the entire country completely! And I mean almost. We ended up just 500 metres from the Albanian border. What a pair of prize twits!

The campsite, about 10 km outside Ulcinj, was grand though. The Oldies remarked that the facilities were fairly basic, but with a fabulous sandy beach just a few steps away, who cares? As we were on an island in a fork of the River Bojana the area was quite swampy so Her Ladyship was being eaten alive by mosquitoes. But I didn’t mind. As long as there were no woodworms about, I was happy.

His Lordship certainly wasn’t complaining either.

Ulcinj itself is a mad place altogether. It’s got to be one of the most higgledy-piggledy towns I’ve ever seen. It is a mix of old and new, with plush modern cafés and shops alongside derelict buildings and communist era relics. Car parking in this town is higgledy-piggledy too. In spite of signs on practically every second lamp post indicating that parallel parking was de rigueur, many locals insist on parking nose to kerb at crazy angles. Or somewhere in the vicinity of the kerb. Or on the kerb. With cars protruding at alarming angles into the already narrow streets, driving through town is something of an obstacle course. Great fun!

The old part of town is like a mini Dubrovnik, positioned on a rocky peninsula and surrounded by ancient fortified walls. It’s just a pity that it isn’t cleaner and better kept. There are some inviting looking restaurants and hotels up there, many with terraces taking advantage of the fantastic sea views.

Like the rest of the town, however, there is again that mix between old and new, plush and derelict.

Whatever about the town itself – at the end of the day, it’s you humans have to live in and with it – I was quite horrified to see piles of litter on the town beach, the Mala Plaža. Ulcinj’s pride and joy, Velika Plaža, the big beach, at 12 km long, certainly lives up to its name, but the little I saw of it was also littered. Thank goodness our own beach at Ada Bojana is well tended and kept clean.

Once, while in a supermarket on the outskirts of town, the Oldies got talking to a local who had spent years in New York and spoke flawless English. He told them that the one thing he missed from New York was the law and order. He then apologised profusely for the terrible roads, crazy drivers and the ‘lack of infrastructure and sanitation’ and said he hoped they would enjoy themselves in Montenegro ‘in spite of everything’. Well, if the locals recognise these shortcomings themselves, perhaps there is hope that things will improve in the future.

Driving is certainly an adventure in this country. The Oldies, following the recommendation of yet another friendly local – there certainly are a lot of friendly locals – drove the mountain road from Virpazar on Lake Shkrodra to Cetinje. It was seriously steep with some pretty scary hairpin bends, and even scarier drops, but what views! I didn’t know where to look – at the stunning landscape or at His Lordship’s white knuckles or Her Ladyship’s white face….

Herself was just saying that there’s no way anyone would ever dream of driving a caravan up this road when we arrived in Rijeka Crnojević, a riverside village with a derelict factory, a huge WWI and WWII memorial .. and a campsite. An underwater campsite. Camping here could be a shocking experience!

Talking about driving, Montenegrin drivers sure love beeping! It took me a while to realise that beeping the horn has nothing to do with warning other drivers or expressing anger. In Montenegro it seems to simply be a form of communication. At one stage, a truck driver behind us beeped the horn at practically every second on-coming vehicle. It was just like Facebook, I suppose. Here was a guy with loads of friends, giving each one a ‘like’ as he rolled past them.

For all the mad parking and beeping, I can’t say I’ve seen much in the way of speeding on these roads. I wouldn’t know how it would even be possible. In fact, traffic can be extremely slow at times. We had to wait a full five minutes for this chap to cross the road!

Which begs the question: why did the tortoise cross the road?