Impressions of Perast and Kotor

‘She’ll be coming down the mountains when she comes…’

Her Ladyship was a darn sight more relaxed as we made on our way back down the mountains from Nikšič towards the coast. Singing her head off, she was, god help us all! The roads here were certainly less scary than on the white-knuckle ride through the Durmitor National Park. But I preferred it when she was terrified. At least it kept her quiet.

You couldn’t blame the Oldies for all the oooohing and ahhhing on the winding road down to Kotor Bay, however. It really is stunning. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the bay area was not too built-up and, in spite of the large numbers of tourists these days, that many of the settlements along the way have retained their village atmosphere.

The Dynamic Duo just couldn’t pass by lovely Perast, I’m glad to say. This ancient fishing village is pretty as a picture and that bay! I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The two tiny islands just offshore are the icing on the cake. I was intrigued to learn that one, Gospa od Skrpjela, Our Lady of the Rock, was man-made. The story goes that it was created over hundreds of years following a tradition of dropping rocks on the spot where an icon of the Virgin Mary had been found by fishermen. The things you humans do!

I was surprised to see that what I thought was a narrow footpath along the shore was actually a road. A road with two-way traffic! After witnessing a local bus miraculously managing, without slowing down for an instant, to slip past a large delivery van, I am beginning to think that Montenegrin drivers must have some kind of guardian angels on board.

In Perast I also came across a strong contender for the title ‘Montengrin Car Parker of the Year‘: this driver simply used a bus shelter as their personal carport!

The old town of Kotor was another must of course. As we approached, I realised I had not been seeing things. There really were fortifications built all around the city, including up the almost vertical mountain face behind it. I wonder whose idea that was. Either they were totally paranoid, or they really expected hostile armies to abseil down the mountain to attack them from behind.

I was impressed with the local waste collection service in the narrow, pedestrianised town centre: a tiny road train of rubbish bins trundles through the narrow streets, the local residents and business owners flinging their bags on board as it passes. Simple and efficient.

As we explored the centre, I never quite knew where to look. At the many magnificent ancient churches and municipal buildings around me, or up at the fortifications snaking up the mountain above me. After a while, however, I found myself tending to looking below me. I knew it, a cat! And another. And another. Eeeeeek! And then I noticed a shop selling nothing but cat souvenirs. Then another cat and another cat shop. And a cat museum, for goodness sake! I didn’t like this at all. What was going on?

The Oldies finally got to the root of it. Cats supposedly have a special place in Kotor. In the past, cats that had been kept aboard ships to keep the vermin down were often left behind in this port town, with the result that there has traditionally been a high population of felines here.

Right, that was my cue to reduce the seagull population by one. Thankfully, my nagging paid off and I was soon able to persuade the Oldies to move on. Lovely and all as Kotor is, I am not too crazy about a cat-crazy town.

For what turned out to be the last time, we again took the magnificent coast road back to Ulcinj. I could definitely never tire of this coastline, or indeed, the rest of this stunning little country (cat-infested bits excluded). Toes crossed, I hope the Oldies keep their promise to make a return visit to Montenegro.

A small-scale country with large-scale beauty.