November 28, 2024

Albania

November 28, 2024/ Sarah Lock

A couple of weeks on and I am still confused about our border crossing from Montenegro into Albania. We were leaving Montenegro at Sukobin, a small village of less than 400 inhabitants whose main income seemed to be dependent on the sale of fruits and honey displayed on their ramshackle roadside stalls. They were certainly set up in the right place as the amount of traffic waiting to cross the border was surprisingly heavy. We “queued”, if you can call it that, for well over an hour, vying to keep our place amongst a mass of vehicles, cyclists and pedestrians, all the while trying to avoid eye contact with the vigilant stallholders. Eventually, it was our turn to approach the booth which in-keeping with the large buildings around it was painted a cheery bright purple. Expecting to receive an easy exit stamp we were surprised that our photocopied registration document once again took centre stage. The customs officer, who looked like his 21st birthday was still a few years away, was shaking his head whilst waving our document around saying no, no, no! Having nothing helpful to add we just sat in Bob nodding as he passed all our documents to the customs officer sat in the next booth. With a quick glance at us, this second official handed everything back and waved us through. So, no stamp out, no stamp in and no mention of our lack of car insurance.

It is concerning us a bit that since leaving the EU our car registration form is proving a bit inadequate and there is little we can do about it. Bob is still registered in South Australia, the annual renewal done online resulting in a downloadable one-page document of proof. After communicating with the SA offices, it seems the only way to get the original document is to turn up at one of their local offices. A trip back to Oz once a year to facilitate this does seem a bit excessive so unless we can create a more original looking document with the help of Photoshop, we have little option but to do nothing and hope for the best going forward.

Our point of entry into Albania was Muriqan, another small settlement just a 20-minute drive from our destination, the city of Shkoder. With the hassle of entry behind us we were now able to absorb our surroundings in a country that for 40 years was one of the world’s most isolated and secretive. Between the years of 1944 and 1985, the country was ruled over by the iron fist of Communist leader Enver Hoxha, a paranoid nationalist whos brutal tactics included imprisonment, execution and exile of thousands of landowners, rural clan leaders, Muslims and Christian clerics and just about anyone else who resisted collectivization. He closed all religious institutions and sealed the country’s borders whereby no-one was allowed to enter or leave. Cars, long hair, mini-skirts and tight pants were forbidden along with any form of western propaganda, unless it was a movie starring English comedy actor Norman Wisdom??? It would be difficult to guess at why Hoxha allowed Mr. Wisdom to infiltrate Albania’s secluded existence, perhaps the idea of the little man winning out against the system, but he did become a cult figure and was even on Albanian postage stamps for a while.

Initially, any absorbing of our surroundings was impossible due to all eyes and attention focused on the erratic and bewildering driving. It probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise given the ageing population and that most people on the road probably didn’t learn to drive until their 40’s and I think the UK government website summed it up quite well - “Albanian driving can often be aggressive and erratic. Deaths from road traffic accidents are amongst the highest in Europe”. It’s at times like these that we love the extra protection of Bob’s alloy bull bar and rock sliders, perhaps not what they were originally intended for but effective all the same. The country’s preference for roundabouts instead of traffic lights was questionable in a nation culturally predisposed to drive the wrong way around them on principle. In fact, driving the wrong way wasn’t just limited to the roundabouts, everyone seemed to be going in whatever direction facilitated their needs and one they got to where they wanted to go they just parked in the middle of the road and got out. The inconvenience of the blocked road didn’t seem to be of any concern to other road users and after a couple of “you have got to be kidding me?!” we decided that this was an excellent system as it alleviated our continual bug bear of trying to find parking spaces large enough for Bob.

Our first foray into a local supermarket was easy given the new road rules and we were delighted to see the reappearance of Haloumi on the shelves. As one of our preferred food types, this had been sadly lacking for a while but as we were getting closer to Greece, gastronomic options seemed to be expanding. So far, Albania was ticking boxes.

Shkoder is an ancient settlement that has developed into a reasonable sized city and, like so much of the Balkans, is developing quickly. The attractive Italianate parade of Kole Idromeno Street was lined with restaurants, cafes and some surprisingly upmarket shops but surrounded by the grim communist-era architecture we found all over the Balkans. There was a stark contrast between the modern malls and new hotels against the traditional open markets and tiny local shops all selling the same stuff that looked to have arrived off the back of a passing lorry. Driving into a pot-holed back street, observing the piles of trash piled high on the roadside, we pulled up outside one particularly drab concrete housing block inside which was our Airbnb. Yes, we were a little discomforted but not for long! A group of lads, loitering outside the pizza place conveniently located next door, introduced themselves as the local mafia and assured us that Bob was in good hands????

We had of course heard stories about Albania’s criminal underbelly but leaving Shkoder a couple of days later with ourselves and Bob in the same condition as when we arrived our impressions of this unusual country were of hospitable, warm and friendly people and this continued throughout our stay.

Shkoder is one of the gateways to the Albanian mountains and from where transport can be organised up to Komani and the spectacular narrow, twisty, ferry ride that navigates the three interconnected lakes of Vau e Dejes, Koman and Fierze; This waterway was created in the 1970s by the hydroelectric damming of the Drin River and is the most popular way to reach Valbone, the trailhead of what could well become one of Europe’s iconic day treks. Not requiring any shuttle transport, we drove up to Komani, a distance of just 54 km that took over 2 hours. Initially the road was ok but with about 15km to go it pretty much disappeared and we continued over loose scree doing our best in the fading light to avoid the larger rockfalls and gaping potholes that were attached to each other by thin strips of crumbling tarmac. Eventually arriving in Komani we checked into a small family run establishment along with a group of German guys who showed up on fully laden touring bikes. The ferry was leaving the next morning but despite our early start we were unable to drive through the narrow, unlit tunnel that led to the loading pier as the boat was already full. With pre-booked tickets sensibly secured we returned the following morning, were waved through the tunnel and joined hundreds of foot passengers, campervans, shuttle buses, motorbikers and cyclists waiting to board. The tiny loading area was complete chaos and we were more than a bit bemused by the logistics employed by the two ferries making the daily trip. One was so overcrowded with vehicles and people that it had to utilise an additional “boat” which was actually a coach with wheels removed that had been welded on to a floating platform pulled along behind on a rope. Our boat on the other hand was almost empty but Bob and a large camper ended up parked tight up against the rails on opposing sides of the deck. Just how stable was this ferry given that it apparently needed to be completely balanced in order to make the trip??

The ferry ride turned out to be not only safe but spectacular, and if it hadn’t been for the large amounts of rubbish dumped into the waterways due to lack of anywhere else to put it, we could almost have been on a fjord in Norway. The 2-hour ferry journey terminated at Fierze lake from where it was another 1-hour drive to Valbone, a fast- developing village surrounded by the Albanian Alps.

These peaks are also known as the Accursed Mountains. Not the most attractive name for these stunning and jagged peaks, and there are a variety of possibilities as to where the name came from. One legend ascribes the name after the devil who is said to have created them in a single day, another to the curse from a woman unable to find water for her children whilst trekking on a hot day and some say that they were so called by Slavic soldiers struggling to march through them. Despite the rather unfortunate name, this range of mountains which stretches across northern Albania and into Kosovo, offers some of the most isolated and unspoilt hiking in Europe.

Albania has a population of approximately 2.8 million, the majority of which live either in the capital of Tirana or on the more developed coast. Poverty is the main driving force for migration and Albanians form the third largest diaspora in the world with more than 40% of those born in the country now living outside its borders. Although a developing country, vast areas are relatively untouched and offer a natural beauty that is beginning to register on the radar of more adventurous travellers.

At this stage the network of walking trails is not huge but around Valbone and the other popular mountain town of Theth there was enough variety to keep us there for the best part of a week and we loved it.

Choosing not to return via the ferry (sometimes you don’t want to push your luck), we drove away from Valbone on the SH23, a road that was rebuilt a few years ago that took us into the town of Kukes, the first city ever nominated for a Nobel Prize. At the height of the Kosovo war in 1999, the 120km Albania-Kosovo border was heavily mined with explosives and Kukes, just 20km from the border, welcomed more than 400,000 refugees. Despite a tiny population of just 16,000, the people of Kukes opened up their homes and managed to provide shelter for an astonishing 90,000 people. An extraordinary act of human kindness, not forgetting that unlike Kosovo that was absorbed into the Republic of Yugoslavia, Kukes had been in the grip of Hoxha’s increasingly paranoid communist dictatorship.

As previously mentioned, Hoxha ruled Albania for 40 years and increasingly fearful of invasion built a vast network of underground tunnels and bunkers across the nation. The tunnels below Kukes extend for 7km under the city and are the largest in Albania. Of course, you can’t see the tunnels from above ground although access can be gained by one of many hidden entrances dotted about, but the bunkers are a ubiquitous sight throughout the country. There are, on average, 5.7 bunkers for every square kilometre, total numbers estimated to be between 500,000 - 750,000, a formidable defence against perceived enemies.

At present, Kukes is a bit off the beaten path and so it was a big surprise to discover that not only had a couple of Aussies pulled up next to us in the tiny parking space outside our hotel but were staying in the room next door. We are always appreciative of some good company and the more unexpected the better.

As amazing as Albania was turning out to be, we weren’t without a few problems. A short while ago our Coleman dual-fuel stove started playing up. Vapour from the liquid fuel was coming through the burner but refusing to light. Having pulled everything apart and put it back together more than once it still wouldn't work and during one of our more frustrated attempts at fixing it we had inadvertently left the steel grate at the side of the road. So now, even if we did somehow miraculously manage to get it to light, we had nothing to sit the pans on. Unfortunately, Coleman are no longer making these iconic stoves but for us the ability to use various fuels including petrol, and also the sturdiness of the stove in supporting our heavy wok and griddle, was something that we didn’t want to let go of. Hours of internet searching eventually paid off and the exact same stove, NWT, popped up on ebay USA. Less than a week later it was through customs and waiting for collection at an address kindly provided from some friends in the UK.

In addition to this we had unknowingly blocked the National Luna (African) fridge air vents with boxes of coffee beans that we had mistakenly over-ordered and after freezing the entirety of its contents the fridge had stopped working. After speaking to the National Luna dealership in the UK it was suggested that we should try replacing the fridge temperature probes and these had also been forwarded to the same address in the UK. Lastly, our mini kettle had died, not such a big deal but not easy to find a 900w replacement with an Australian plug. Thanks to Amazon a new kettle and AU adaptor plug had been despatched and had been added to the ever growing pile of parcels taking up space in the same spare room as the stove.

Before catching a Wizz Air flight to UK, we left Bob with the mechanics at Samina 4x4, Tirana. He was long overdue a service and needed some new brake pads as well as some replacement light bulbs. With fingers crossed that we had left him in good hands, we flew out of Tirana airport which surprised us with its fully automated systems that enabled us to walk through security and customs in a matter of minutes. Even with checked-in luggage on both legs it proved to be the most efficient airport that we have experienced to date – who would have thought?

Wanting to give the mechanics the time they needed to order in the necessary parts, we extended our time in the UK and spent eight days walking the Kennet & Avon Canal Path. Off the back of numerous mountainous treks we weren’t expecting much from this flat 140km trail linking London with the Bristol Channel. But as it turned out, we passed through some very picturesque countryside, stayed in some great pubs and it didn’t rain!

On our return to Albania, we were thrilled with how the guys had looked after Bob and we drove out of the garage feeling a lot more organised than when we had dropped him off. The new fridge sensors were working, we had a brand new and working stove packed away and we could now make a quick brew on demand. Hard to think how life could get any better!!

Our route now was straight south sticking as close to the coast as the limited road infrastructure would allow, en-route to Greece.

October 30, 2024

Croatia & Montenegro

October 30, 2024/ Sarah Lock

Having travelled a full 360° Croatia-Bosnia-Montenegro-Bosnia-Croatia, we arrived back into Split ready to board the HM Futura, Katerina Line for a week of sailing around the Dalmatian Coast. We had originally intended to explore the area using the car ferries that connect the more popular islands, but the logistics of purchasing tickets and not always being able to reserve a specific departure time could have meant many hours hanging around waiting. There was also the issue with accommodation once on the islands. The flood of visitors to this part of Europe probably needs to be seen to be believed and if you haven’t booked a room or camping pitch in advance, forget it! And then the penny dropped, what better way to see the coastline than from the sunbathing deck of a cruise ship. I know what you’re thinking – if accommodation is so booked up then what are the chances of getting on one of the popular cruises at short notice. Well, as it turns out, excellent if a party of 12 have cancelled last minute and 6 cabins are available at a discount.

Split is probably our favourite place on the Croatian mainland, the second-largest city after the capital Zagreb with just the right balance of old and new. The extraordinary complex of Diocletian’s Palace, surely one of the most imposing ancient Roman structures in existence today, is the heart of this vibrant city. Rather than an empty shell, the Palace is a labyrinth of white, stone paved streets that are packed with bars, restaurants and boutique shops. Directly in front of the Palace, is Split’s glossy waterfront promenade, which makes the French Riviera look rather tired and bland in comparison.

Most multi-day cruises depart from Split harbour on a Saturday and talk about chaotic. Ships berthed up to eight deep were disgorging masses of relaxed, sun-kissed tourists who, in no hurry to leave their new friends, were effectively blocking access for the supply vehicles trying to load up the boats in time for the next voyage. Shuttle vans and opportunistic taxis were eager to get as close to the ships as possible, parking across walkways and adding to the confusion and any other slithers of space were taken up with piles of luggage. Looking longingly at the many designer cases waiting to be taken on board, we firmly gripped our backpacks, joined the melee and went in search of our ship. As newbies to this mode of travel we wandered up and down the busy dock looking for the Futura before eventually asking a smartly dressed deckhand for help. “Oh, that’s my ship” he said “follow me”. And so we did, making our way through one vessel after another, eventually being shown to a spacious cabin away from all the clamour of the port.

I could go on and on about how our week panned out but will keep it as brief as possible. Over the course of our trip we visited Korcula (another birthplace of Marco Polo – I think this is the third we have come across), Mljet National Park with its introduced population of Asian mongooses that have effectively solved the venomous snake problem but have also decimated the local birdlife, Dubrovnik (still just as packed), the Elaphiti Islands (a dreamy archipelago just north of Dubrovnik), Hvar (the sunniest island in Europe that attracts the likes of Prince Harry and Beyonce) and Brac (home to one of the most spectacular beaches in the world - National Geographic and where sheep outnumber people by almost 2:1). We bobbed about on noodles in secluded bays, cycled around salt lakes, hiked up to hilltop forts and kayaked around Dubrovnik’s city walls. We were wined and dined in fine style, no stampede for the buffet as it was all table service, and the best part – on a ship for 36 people, there were only 26 of us onboard. The Aussies provided high energy and a lot of laughs, a NY actor (who looked remarkably like Sean Connery) a touch of Hollywood and a renowned NZ chef kept an eye on the catering. If you were to ask me my favourite moment it would have to be when everyone left the ship for a cultural evening before meeting back up with the ship further down the coast. Suffering a little with a sore throat (thanks Ian), I opted to stay on board and for 5 hours enjoyed a sail into the sunset on a 156-foot vessel with an open bar and full complement of staff which I had all to myself – can’t imagine that scenario ever repeating itself!

Fully refreshed and having seen as much of Croatia as hoped for, we once again headed south, relieved to by-pass Dubrovnik and head straight for the Montenegrin border. Crossing at the main border point on the Adriatic Highway, our exit from Karasovici was almost a drive through which was a surprise given the amount of information online talking about delays of up to 3 hours. Entry through Debeli Brijeg and into Montenegro was slowed down slightly by a request from the customs officer that we purchase car insurance for the duration of our visit. We were directed to a shabby building which we eventually gained access to by way of a small back door up two flights of steps only to be told by the handful of guys inside that they had run out of policies. Returning to the customs officer we relayed this information, prompting him to come out of his booth and disappear into a large building behind him. Reappearing with a member of the police we re-iterated what we had been told whereby we were handed back our passports and told to continue (once again without insurance).

Right up until Bosnia and Montenegro we have been travelling with a green card third party car policy issued by Alessi Insurance based in the Netherlands. This has covered us for most of Europe and when we visited Morocco we were able to take out a separate African policy from the same people. Unfortunately, they do not offer cover for Bosnia, Montenegro or Albania (our next country) which means that if no insurance is offered at the border we end up travelling without.

Having travelled through the north-west mountainous region of Montenegro a short while ago, we were now going to stick to the coast, first stop Kotor Bay. Despite the arrival of storms, we camped in a small autocamp overlooking the stunning and only natural fiord in the Mediterranean. Surrounded by mountains that rise-up from close to the water’s edge, Kotor Bay is actually four small bays protected as a World Heritage Site. Of the many towns and villages that are situated around the edge of the bay, Tivat and Kotor are busy and congested but as you make your way around the narrow coastal road the pace slows and we were surprised to see so many buildings seemingly abandoned and in a bad state of repair. Amazing really, as anywhere else in Europe this would have to be prime real estate worth millions. Makes you wonder what happens to property prices if Montenegro joins the EU in 2025 as it is currently tipped to do.

Tivat port is where the cruise ships come in and has what must be the most luxurious marina on the Adriatic - Porto Montenegro. Wandering around the top-end designer shops and luxury hotels our attention kept drifting out to the boats in the harbour and one in particular, the Black Pearl. Easily more than twice the size of anything else around it, this ecological sailing yacht can apparently cross the Atlantic without burning even a litre of fossil fuel. The 350-foot vessel, second largest in the world, was commissioned by a Russian oligarch (nick-named the cement king) in 2010 for the bargain price of $200 million and is now part of a huge legal dispute following his death in 2021.

Continuing down the coast we soon arrived at the resort town of Budva. Often called “Montenegrin Miami”, it is the most crowded and popular tourist resort in Montenegro, a rather gauche five-star style recently boosted by an influx of Russian money. Yet another example of the complexities faced by these small Balkan countries. On the one hand, applications to join the EU are underway whilst on the other, huge amounts of money for infrastructure is pouring in from Russia and China. During our time there we were left in no doubt as to the strategic importance of the Western Balkans and wonder how things will look in 10 years-time. But, back to Budva - once we had grabbed some lunch and finished watching a man playing with his 2m long Yellow Burmese python, we left.

The E65/E80 road from Budva to Ulcinj hugs the coast and is well deserving of its “scenic route” moniker as it showcases turquoise blue waters and quiet seaside villages from a high vantage point. Just 20km south of Budva we descended into the small coastal town of Petrovac. Driving in, it was the same scenario that we had observed throughout much of the Balkans (Slovenia, we are not including you). Unfinished buildings, scruffy, overgrown parking lots spilling out on to the narrow roads, litter everywhere and a generally depressing air. But, turning onto the beach front we were transported onto a gorgeous bay, with a long sandy beach, crystal clean waters and a smattering of boutique hotels, bars and restaurants all situated less than 10 metres away from the sea. It was a bit like a film set, you just wanted to make sure you were not behind the scenes.

Further along the coast we passed the exclusive resort of Aman Sveti Stefan which has taken over an entire island providing accommodation in 15th century stone cottages. Much as we would have liked to stay, we were saved the debate of whether €4,200 per night was a bit expensive, as the entire resort has been closed since 2021 due to the hotel no longer being able to guarantee the privacy of their guests on the beaches due to the tearing down of fences by disgruntled locals. Apparently, Aman Resorts is now involved in international arbitration in London demanding €100 million from Montenegro in compensation – good luck with that!

Not too far from the border into Albania, our last stop was Stari Bar, a small town located a few miles inland from the new city and port of Bar. Set at the foot of Mount Rumija, the old town of Stari Bar has been settled since at least 800 BC and despite, or more likely due to, its picture-perfect hillside location overlooking the Adriatic it has had more than its fair share of troubles. For centuries the town was either fighting off or succumbing to, a motley selection of tribes and kingdoms, before eventually becoming a prominent Roman settlement of the Byzantine Empire in 1183. More desirable than ever, it was then fought over for several more centuries by the Slavs, Venetians and Ottomans before eventually being liberated/bombed by the Montenegrins in 1878. The heavy artillery used during this final skirmish pretty much flattened the fort, town walls and buildings and, what was left standing, was further damaged by a devastating earthquake in 1979 which also destroyed the aqueduct forcing anyone still living there to move to the new seaside town of Bar.

But since then, reconstruction works have been taking place and around 2,000 people have moved back into what is now an open-air museum. Within the remaining walls and battlements of the old town an increasing number of tourists are now wandering the cobbled alleys and streets clambering across piles of rubble that were once houses, shops, churches and mosques. So far, there is no development within the walls but the pretty main street up from the parking lot is lined with souvenir stands, cafes and restaurants. For me Stari Bar epitomised much of the Balkans. Such a long, proud and turbulent past whose future looks to be yoked to the tourist dollar. Places like Stari Bar that are on the cusp of change are currently at a manageable scale and a pleasure to visit but I wonder how long it will be before the massive cruise ships arrive disgorging thousands of tourists and these unique places end up selling their soul.

September 29, 2024

Croatia, Montenegro & Bosnia

September 29, 2024/ Sarah Lock

Dubrovnik, seemingly one of the most popular places on the planet. We had booked a couple of nights in a hotel in Lapad, an attractive port area about 3km outside the City walls, hoping to collect some mail that had been sent from Australia. Having been without credit and debit cards since our unfortunate experience with HSBC AU back in February, our financial relationship with the bank has now been restored and replacement credit and debit cards forwarded to the hotel. Or, as it turned out, not. For some unknown reason, Croatia Post had not been able to find the hotel???? and we had been informed by email that the packet was awaiting us at the Post Office. Which PO was clearly information on a need-to-know basis and forget about driving from one PO to the next as the traffic all around the Old Town was pretty much at a standstill. So, our first few hours in Dubrovnik turned out to be a self-guided, hot, sticky and disgruntled trudge around various PO locations trying to track down our parcel. We did eventually find it and returning to our hotel, Ian immediately went to bed and didn’t get out of it until 2 days later when we had to check-out. This wasn’t a reaction to Croatia Post’s inefficiencies but some bug that he thought he had picked up at Predjama Castle in Slovenia.

Neither of us are particularly susceptible to picking up minor ailments but since being in Europe, we have both suffered from what I am guessing is a strain of Covid. Whatever it is, the result is 3-5 days in bed feeling devoid of energy and with a sore throat and cough followed by three weeks of continued coughing and general malaise. Unfortunately for Ian, after two days of bed rest he had no choice but to get up as the hotel was fully booked and a quick look on Booking.com showed hardly any accommodation available and certainly nothing where we would be able to park Bob. Airbnb was the same and we couldn’t even find a free pitch in any of the nearby campsites. Welcome to coastal Europe mid-summer! We definitely needed to go somewhere for a few days for Ian to recover and due to lack of options in Croatia we decided to head to the Montenegro Mountains via Bosnia.

Croatia’s longest land border is with Bosnia and Herzegovina and there are border crossings in several places with the closest to Dubrovnik being at Ivanica, a mere 20-minute drive from the Old City. We crossed the border easily enough despite moving into a non-Schengen zone which meant having to present documents for us and Bob. A stamp out of Croatia and, a couple of kilometres later, a stamp in and we were having our first look at Bosnia & Herzegovina (BiH). In contrast to Slovenia which is probably one of the greenest and cleanest countries in Europe, the first thing we noticed was the litter strewn at the side of the road (Spain is still the worst we have seen though) and a barren, dry and rocky landscape. But in no time at all we were driving along the M6 (no M does not stand for motorway), next to the crystal-clear waters of the River Trebisnjica as it made its way through a valley surrounded by thickly forested mountain slopes. Trebinje is the southern-most town of BiH and had it not been so hot we may well have been tempted to stay a while in this pretty place. We climbed steeply before passing through the small town of Zujpa close to the Bosnia/Montenegro border crossing of Ilino Brdo. Once again this was quite quick to navigate although I don’t think the Montenegran official had ever seen an Australian car registration before as he kept asking for proper documents. When it was obvious that there was nothing else forthcoming, he rolled his eyes, shrugged and muttered something about us only having a photocopy before stamping our passports and letting us in. We were now in Montenegro, less than 2 hours after leaving Dubrovnik.

Montenegro “Black Mountain” borders Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia, Kosovo and Albania, and is a small landmass with fewer than a million inhabitants. To try and understand a country that stands on the crossroads of civilisations is always going to be difficult given the complexities of ethnicity and religion; Lonely Planet summed it up quite well - “A family that has never left their ancestral village may have had children born in Montenegro, parents born in the state union of Serbia and Montenegro, grandparents born in Yugoslavia, great-grandparents born in the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes and great-great-grandparents born in the Ottoman or Austro-Hungarian empires”.

Following the fall of Yugoslavia in the early 90’s when four of the six constituent republics declared independence, Montenegro remained united with Serbia forming the federation of Serbia and Montenegro. It eventually declared its independence in 2006 making it one of the newest internationally recognised countries in the world; It is also one of nine current EU candidate countries along with BiH.

There aren’t too many road options in Montenegro and rather than taking a direct line to our mountain destination of Kolasin, we first had to head down towards the coast, skirting the capital of Podgorica, before turning back around and onto the only completed section (41km) of one of the world’s most expensive roads. Funded by a $1 Billion loan from China, this finished section is just part of an ambitious plan to transform Montenegro into a transport hub for the Balkan region, linking the port city of Bar with neighbouring Serbia via a 163km highway. Cutting a path through mountains and gorges means that more than half the highway will consist of tunnels and bridges but given delays and controversy there is some doubt as to whether it will ever be completed.

Conveniently for us, the highway continued almost to the Biogradska Gora National Park and ski centre of Kolasin. Suffering greatly from embargos imposed during the Yugoslav Wars, Montenegro is now a fast-growing tourist destination and Kolasin was probably a good example of this, as whilst part of town was quite upmarket with boutique hotels and pavement cafes, a meander off to the side lands you in the middle of one of many building sites surrounded by half-finished and semi-occupied buildings. It wasn’t one of the more charismatic places we have visited and the people were neither friendly nor unfriendly, just completely indifferent that we were visiting.

We stayed for a few days in a brand-new apartment waiting for Ian’s cough to improve, which left me with some time on my hands to compile a list of things that I thought useful for the owners of the accommodation prior to any more bookings. Nothing major, just the addition of light bulbs, pans that would work on the induction stove, a guide to turning on the hot water, the correct address details in Google and a heads up that it was cash only on arrival. Nevertheless, the accommodation was comfortable and by the time we left although Ian was still coughing he was at least out of bed.

Our route to Zabljak, the highest town in Montenegro, was decided for us as the P4 was closed due to a huge landslide. Instead, we took the R18 and P5, typical mountain roads with steep ascents and descents cutting through foliage so thick that in places it was taking up most of the road. We were now in the northwest region of Durmitor and it wasn’t until we were 20km or so outside of Zabljak that the thick foliage opened up and we found ourselves driving across a high open plain surrounded by the Dinarian Alps. The growing resort town of Zabljak had a lot more going on than Kolasin, offering typical mountain sports, watersports and hiking within the beautiful scenery of the National Park. Despite hiking on some of the more popular trails within the park, it wasn’t until we were leaving and driving towards BiH via the Sedlo Pass that we got to see just how big an area the Park covered. It took us nearly two hours to drive out, the journey impeded to some extent by having to find suitable passing spots for oncoming vehicles and cows but more so by the constant need to take in the amazing scenery.

Eventually the road meandered down to huge meadows dotted with occasional farmhouses and then descended rapidly through dense forest before popping out on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Piva Reservoir. A series of switchbacks and 56 pitch-black tunnels, mostly positioned on the hairpin bends, continued spectacularly all the way to the small settlement of Scepan Polje and the BiH border. Apart from the many river rafting camps that we saw spaced out alongside the rroad, the area felt pretty remote and with only a few vehicles waiting to cross over we exited Montenegro in about 10 minutes. No-man’s consisted of a single-track dirt road, a rickety wood and steel bridge and about 100 rubber-clad, paddle brandishing rafters. As well as being one of the gateways into BiH, this point was also the main disembarkation point for the hugely popular Tara River Canyon tours. At 1300m, the canyon is the deepest in Europe and just 200m shy of the Grand Canyon. Single width only and with a weight limit sign of 12 tonne, we waited for a clear run to cross over the 70m bridge and then it was a short distance over a pot holed gravel track to arrive at a shabby looking, solitary booth containing a rather lonely looking border official. After a cursory glance at our documents and no mention of our lack of insurance which had expired when we left the EU, he stamped our passports and we were back in BiH.

Sarajevo is only 96km from the border but due to the nature of the roads it took us nearly 3 hours to reach the capital of what would have to be the most interesting country that we have visited so far. I confess that our knowledge of the Balkans up until now was embarrassingly limited and there was a part of my brain questioning the safety of overlanding in Bosnia, but I needn’t have worried. The people were super friendly, everywhere we went felt safe and we were repeatedly thanked for visiting. This complex country is bordered by Croatia, Serbia and Montenegro and four-fifths of it is mountainous thanks to the Dinarian Alps that stretch from northwest Croatia through the heart of B&H and into Montenegro. It does have a tiny coastline of just 20km, gifted from Dubrovnik to the Ottoman Empire back in the 17th century, where the popular beachside town of Neum can be found.

The population of BiH is just under 3.5 million and made up of mostly Bosniaks (Bosnian Muslims), Serbs and Croats who identify as Muslim, Orthodox Christians or Roman Catholics. It is the most ethnically diverse of the republics of former Yugoslavia. This diversity is the result of a long and complicated history that originated with the Illyrians, an Indo-European tribe that arrived in the Balkan area. Over the centuries, the region saw other tribes either invading, passing through or being assimilated such as the Goths and Celts. The Roman Empire also had a heavy presence in the area before Slavic tribes migrated from Central and Eastern Europe, two distinct tribes being the Croats and the Serbs. Then the Turks arrived, resulting in BiH being under Ottoman control for more than 400 years. During this period, many Bosnians converted to Islam, possibly lured by economic and social gain and a faith that was a lot more organised than their own, somewhat mysterious, Bosnian church. It appears that the Ottomans were relatively tolerant of other religions, no doubt due to the fact that the Christians, Catholics and other minorities did have to pay higher taxes.

As Ottoman power weakened towards the close of the 19th century, the Austro-Hungarian Empire took advantage and annexed the Bosnian province, a move that caused a lot of instability as nationalism and politics emerged as powerful forces of change. There was also the issue of a Bosnian Serb killing the heir to the Austro-Hungarian Empire who happened to be visiting Sarajevo at the time. There is a strong school of thought that this was the catalyst for World War I as, in retaliation, the A-H Empire declared war on Serbia, prompting Russia to come to Serbia’s defence, whilst Germany backed the Austro-Hungarians who ultimately lost the war. Seizing the opportunity for independence, the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes, which also included BiH and Montenegro, was formed in 1918, the official name changing to the Kingdom of Yugoslavia in 1929.

The Yugoslav Kingdom was invaded and occupied during WWII, after which a communist government was elected over the six republics of BiH, Serbia, Croatia, Macedonia, Montenegro and Slovenia – the Federation of Yugoslavia.

In 1984, Sarajevo and it’s surrounding mountains was the centre of the sporting world as it hosted the Winter Olympics. The event was hailed a huge success – who can forget Torvil & Dean – as it brought the world back together after the highly politicised 1980 Moscow Olympics. It portrayed a country that, regardless of its various ethnic groups, was existing in relative peace.

The following breakup of Yugoslavia was due to many factors. It had seven neighbours, six republics, five nations, four languages, three religions, two alphabets and one party. As well as old animosities bubbling under the surface, there was also huge disparities in wealth and quality of life among the various republics and a growing resentment of Serbia’s control of the region. Following Slovenia and Croatia’s example, more than 60% of Bosnian citizens voted for independence in 1992, a move that resulted in Croatia, Serbia and Bosnia taking part in a three-sided fight for territories, with civilians of all ethnicities becoming victims of horrendous crimes. War raged until 1995 when a peace deal was brokered which resulted in 51% of the land constituting a Croat-Bosniak federation (FBiH) and 49% the Republika Srpska (RS), two separate autonomous entities. There is also the issue of a ridiculously complicated political system that sees three presidents rotating every eight months between a Serb, a Muslim and a Croat, all overseen by a High Representative selected by the EU. Presidency election is decided by the country’s citizens, but Bosniaks or Croats living in RS are only allowed to elect the Serb member of the presidency, Serbs in FBiH can only elect a Bosniak or Croat, whilst Bosniaks and Croats in FBiH can elect a Bosniak or Croat but not a Serb!

We entered BiH through a “red” Serbian republic zone before reaching Sarajevo which is a city divided between the two. We didn’t notice any difference between the zones although once you start looking, graffiti by extremist groups on both sides, highlights the very different ideals at play. After receiving more money per capita than any other country in history for post-war reconstruction Sarajevo is almost completely rebuilt, with just the occasional bullet-ridden building standing as a sad reminder.

The younger generation were very open to discussing their country’s history with surprisingly objective views and were always keen to let us know that that their circle of friends included all of the ethnic groups. Quick witted and good humoured they eagerly shared their knowledge of Brit pop culture and were proud to claim a peculiar love affair with the classic British sit com Only Fools and Horses. The dream for many is to be incorporated into the EU.

So, what did we think of Bosnia? - It is one of our favourite countries so far! Apart from the open friendliness of everyone we met, the mix of east and west in Sarajevo and Mostar in particular, gave a unique feel in architecture, food and lifestyle. Areas such as the Neretva Canyon, the Kravica waterfalls and the Sutjesko National Park offer many opportunities to be amongst spectacular, unspoiled nature and the lack of tourists that most of Europe now seems to be swamped by was refreshing.

With the schools due to restart, we figured it was safe to re-enter Croatia and have another go at exploring the Dalmatian coast. We left BiH on the E65 crossing the modern and efficient border at Bijaca before returning to Split which was only marginally less busy that the last time we were there. Once again we were frustrated by the high cost and low availability of accommodation but then fate smiled on us and we were presented with the option of a last minute, seven day cruise around the islands. I know what you’re thinking - how come there was availability on a cruise when the area was so flooded with tourists? Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, we set about finding somewhere secure to leave Bob. Our only option seemed to be a dodgy looking parking lot next to an abandoned railway line, where a non-English speaking, elderly ticket man gave us a thumbs up which we took to mean that Bob would be OK. Not ideal, but we really, really wanted to go on the cruise. With bicycles stored in an internal office within an underground parking garage 2 km away (we didn’t want a repeat of Barcelona), we grabbed our limited “cruise wear” and headed to the port.

August 30, 2024

Slovenia & Croatia

August 30, 2024/ Sarah Lock

Having both Australian and British passports has proved useful once again. Exiting Venice to London ,on our Australian passports before our permitted 90 days were up we returned a few days later on our British passports for a further 90-day stay. As yet we haven’t tested the system and don’t know what happens if you overstay your welcome. Perhaps a slap on the wrist, a flagged passport or fine? But fyi, the Venice passport stampers weren’t at all interested in our previous stamps which was a bit annoying given our diligence.

It took just 2 hours to drive from Venice up towards the Austrian border before swinging a right into Slovenia. Slovenia is a small country that shares its borders with Italy, Austria, Hungary and Croatia. It joined the EU in 2004 and became part of the Schengen zone in 2007. Initially recognised as a Slovene-speaking territory of southern Austria, it was one of six countries that formed the Federation of Yugoslavia in 1945, along with the republics of Croatia, Montenegro, Serbia, Bosnia and Macedonia. Today, it’s debatable as to whether or not it is a Balkan State, but due to its long historical ties with the Balkan Peninsular I have included it in this section. Under a “relatively relaxed” communist regime, Slovenia made good progress both economically and culturally during a period when Yugoslavia was a popular tourist destination and, uniquely, its communist citizens were allowed to travel to the West. Able to travel relatively hassle-free in both the East and the West, their “red passports” were worth even more on the black market than American ones.

Josip Broz (Tito), presided over Yugoslavia until his death in 1980 and whilst there are many different opinions as to how significant an event this was in relation to the continued unity of the six republics of Yugoslavia, the fact is that during the 1980’s the Federation started to fall apart. Slovenia was the first of the six republics to formally leave Yugoslavia, declaring independence in 1991. Despite triggering an intervention by the Yugoslav People’s Army (JNA), Slovenia was successful in gaining its independence after a short and relatively bloodless 10-day war.

Following independence Slovenia reoriented its politics and economy toward western Europe and over the proceeding years political stability was enjoyed and it benefitted from a fast-growing economy, largely service oriented, particularly in the knowledge sector of computer science and nanotechnology. It is a country of huge landscape diversity, a place where the major European geographical units – the Alps, the Pannonian Plain, the Dinaric Karst and the Mediterranean – meet and overlap. It is water-rich and, as well as its many mountains, 60% of the country is covered by forests.

The first town we arrived at was Kranjska Gora, an attractive year-round mountain sports centre located in the Julian Alps from where we headed out on a 6-day hut-to-hut tour. Not having been able to put together such a tour in the Dolomites due to the lack of room in the huts, this seemed like a good alternative which would also enable us to climb Mt Triglav, Slovenia’s highest peak at 2,864m. Finding the website of a local tour company who had kindly detailed just enough of their itinerary for us to plot the same route into Gaia, we booked the necessary huts and set off from the Planica Nordic Ski Jump centre, incidentally, the only place in the world to have eight ski jumping hills and, according to Wikipedia, where 28 world records have been set.

Had we done a bit more research we may have been a bit more prepared for what was to come but given the lack of information we were able to find online we set off with high spirits. Things started off well enough with a steep 1,000m ascent up to the Vrsic Pass where we were amused at the local sheep desperately seeking shade amongst the parked cars when there was a huge expanse of grassed woodland not more than 500m away. As in the Dolomites, there were a couple of huts serving lunch after which we continued to our first mountain refugio Postarski dom na Vrsic which proved to be a soft introduction to hut life by way of running water, an inside toilet. It also marked the start of a 6-day diet that consisted mainly of sauerkraut and bean stew. Day 2 and things started to get a bit more tricky. We were aiming for the Planja Saddle just to the right of Mt Razor summit and after a long, hot traipse through dense undergrowth followed by numerous crossings of loose, unstable scree slopes, we found ourselves somewhat exposed on huge, almost vertical rock slabs with just the occasional iron rod protruding at a 90° angle to assist progress. Apart from three young guys going in the opposite direction the only other person we had seen all day was a lone female walker who had been consistently 15 minutes ahead of us since we set off. Taking into account our now isolated and somewhat foreboding surroundings, we figured that our sole companion was way more experienced in the ways of the mountain than we were and took some comfort in following in her footsteps as we continued upwards. With just grey sky and rock around us and sheer drops to the distant valley below, we scrambled and hauled ourselves up using the occasional metal rods and steel cables. Eventually we all reached the saddle where we learned that Rani of Belgium was just as surprised as we were to find herself mountaineering when she had booked herself on a self-guided hiking tour of the Julian Alps – the exact same tour that we had copied. Perhaps more worrying was that she was taking great comfort in the fact that we were behind her?????

Our relief at descending from the saddle was short lived as, in order to reach the Pogacnikov hut (which we could see in the distance), we again had to make use of the random and often curiously positioned cabling to come down the largest sheer scree field so far. You may now be wondering what sort of distances we were covering and as much as it pains me to share, we were taking around 6 hours to cover less than 10 km.

As we were getting higher up into the mountains the huts were becoming more basic and more busy. At the end of the third day there were so many of us up at Rifugio Dolicu that we were sleeping on mattresses pushed together on the floor to form a double line where 18 of us were arranged head to toe/toe to head. The reason this particular hut was so busy was its close proximity to Mount Triglav, the highest and most popular mountain in Slovenia. Not only is it on the state flag but there is also an unwritten rule that every Slovenian should climb to the top at least once in a lifetime. To facilitate this, there are four possible routes up, one of which started just 50m from Dolicu’s hole in the ground loo.

There was some debate as to whether or not we were mentally, physically and/or sufficiently equipped to attempt the summit of Triglav and it was difficult to decide whether our lack of via ferrata gear was a positive excuse not to go or a negative in that we would have to manage without. As the afternoon wore on and people started arriving at the hug having already made the climb, we were able to get a bit more information (mostly that despite having climbing gear, the majority weren’t using it) and so, against our better judgement, we decided to go. Rani, who admitted to difficulties sleeping, left at 5am and turned out to be the only summiteer that was granted views of the surrounding Alps. We reluctantly left the hut at 7am and it was an hour’s walk over the rocky landscape before we reached the bottom of the climb where we were once again faced with metal rods highlighting our vertical ascent up the rock. If there was ever a point to turn around, this would be it, as there was no way in the world that this could have been classified as hiking. Unwilling to be in a situation where we would be catching up with Rani later and having to admit failure, we gritted our teeth, girded our loins and went up, and up and up. Sometimes with the help of the rods and cables and sometimes just clinging on to the rock by our fingertips desperately trying not to think about the consequences of falling off. It took us another hour to reach the summit and instead of being rewarded by glorious views we stood on the top in swirling cloud. Apart from catching our breath, there was no other reason to hang around and so the whole exercise was repeated in reverse.

Our day wasn’t over when we returned to Dolicu Hut late morning, we still had another four hours hike to descend to Koca pri Triglavskih Jezerih. A 200-bed hut located at 1600m in the Valley of the Seven Lakes. We appreciated the return of the indoor facilities but for the first night during this tour we had a snorer in the midst. We had been amazed that up to this point, having been crammed like sardines into cramped sleeping quarters, not a single person had coughed, sneezed, farted or snored.

Our last couple of days were much more reminiscent of what we are used to as we continued down, away from the high peaks, eventually arriving at the small town of Tolmin. With all exertions behind us this now rates as a great trek/climb but was definitely the most challenging to date and we do consider ourselves quite fortunate to be able to write about it.

60km east we joined the long queue of traffic crawling into Bled, an Alpine resort which is correctly marketed as being particularly lively in the summer. We were lucky to get one of the last pitches on a site that stretched across 15 hectares of campground. Lake Bled, recently nominated as one of the new seven wonders of the world, is one of the most beautiful lakes I have seen and despite the amount of constant traffic heading into the town itself, once you arrive at the Lake it doesn’t feel too busy at all and there are enough bars and restaurants around the 6km perimeter to easily cope with all the visitors.

Prior to joining Yugoslavia, Slovenia had been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire for centuries and, like the Austrians, its people tend to be disciplined, diligent and hard-working. What set it apart for us though, was their attitude to sustainability; one in four Slovenians own a piece of forest – if a tree is chopped down another is planted – and the forests are expanding. Vegetable plots are ubiquitous although this hasn’t quite translated to what is available in the restaurants which unfortunately aligns with the less sustainable meat diet of other wealthy countries. And then there are the beekeepers, more beekeepers per capita than anywhere else in the world, the colourful panels on the hobbit-sized huts denoting apiaries that we saw all over the countryside.

Not surprisingly in a nation so aware, the Slovenians love exercise and are more than a little obsessed with ziplining. There are ziplines everywhere and Bled was no exception. Although not the steepest or most exhilarating ride on offer, Zipline Dolinka is the longest in Europe and for 2.5 hours we got to see Bled from a different viewpoint as we zipped along seven lines totalling 4km.

The end of the line as far as the Alps were concerned, we continued east almost to the Hungarian border and onto the Pannonian Plain, a large basin of more than 100,000 square kilometres that covers several countries in central and southeast Europe. Stretching across the northeast of Slovenia and referred to as Thermal Pannonia, the land is fertile and rich in therapeutic waters. We camped at Jeruzalem, one of Slovenia’s seven wine regions, on a tiny-grassed area, attached to a local winery. Overlooking the rolling vine covered hills, we shared the space with three other campers – all Austrians – and, as part of the package, enjoyed a sunset wine tasting of white and orange (white wine made like red wine) wines. We found the Slovenian wines to be a bit hit and miss. Some were good but many were acidic and sour, characteristics that were intentional and, unfortunately, often present in the food as well.

Moving on to the spa town of Rogaska Slatina, we were introduced to the unique mineral waters of Donat Mg. With magnesium content of more than 1,000 ml per litre and sourced from a spring created by Pegasus striking his hoof on a nearby mountain, this is apparently the answer to a variety of stress-related disorders. The town itself is among the most notable health resorts in Europe and from a small village has developed into a luxury destination consisting of half a dozen spa hotels as well as a state-of-the-art medical centre. Having been visited by various Royal families over the years, it maintains a genteel air and operates much like a community in that once in the resort you are encouraged to visit the other hotels for fitness classes, themed dinners, beauty offers and wellness talks. We were only there one night but did our best to sample as much as possible which included magnesium bathing and float tanks, reflexology, massage and yoga. It was quite a rush to fit it all in which was probably not entirely in-keeping with the idea of relaxation, peace and well-being but it is firmly on my list of places to re-visit should the need for a bit of R&R arise.

The Pannonian Plain box ticked, we were on to the Karst region, a rocky limestone plateau in Slovenia’s southwest. A landscape of subterranean worlds, the largest and most visited being the two-million-year old, 24km long, Postojna Cave. It is possible to visit more than 5km of the cave chambers, passageways and halls, 3.5km of which are showcased from a little electric train. The cave contains features such as The Skyscraper (a 16-metre-high stalagmite), The Brilliant (a 5m tall bright-white stalagmite), the Spaghetti Hall, the White Hall and the Concern Hall where a huge, ornate glass chandelier hangs from the roof. There is also a Biospeleological Station where we met with the blind Slenderneck Beetle and the curious Olm. Sometimes referred to as dragon’s offspring, this transluscent proteus with a length of 25 to 30cm is completely aquatic and lives its whole life in the darkness of the cave. With an ability to sense the bioelectric field of other organisms the olm is an ambush predator, but in the absence of a passing shrimp it can survive for over a decade without food. Perhaps the perfect pet for a traveller? But possibly the most extraordinary discovery was the world’s only cave post office that operates from the Concert Hall and from where you can send a cave postmarked postcard.

The cave tour is normally a two-packet bundle incorporating the Predjama Castle which is 9km down the road. The impregnable medieval castle perched in the middle of a 123-metre-cliff for more than 800 years is not something you come across every day. Listed in the Guinness World Records as the world’s largest cave castle, it is extraordinary. Built in the mouth of a cave with a network of secret tunnels carved into the surrounding rock, the castle is almost completely hidden on approach, only visible when you are about 500m away. Once inside. it’s obvious that safety rather than comfort was the biggest concern as the cold and damp almost defy habitability. Access was originally via retractable ladders to the main courtroom where visitors presented for rough justice and hoped that they didn’t proceed further into the castle as behind a thick wooden door the torture chamber contained a stretching rack and the horse, a painfully pointed triangular device they were made to straddle. The castle extends over a number of levels and is a most interesting place to visit – and that is from someone never terribly enthused about old buildings.

Avoiding the 40°C heat wave and hordes of summer tourists on Slovenia’s 47km of coastline, we opted to remain inland where the temperatures were a cooler 35-38°C and crossed into Croatia, a land of over 1,000 islands.

Croatia declared independence on the same day as Slovenia, but while Slovenia’s withdrawal was comparatively bloodless, Croatia’s was not to be. Between 1991 and 1995 the country saw armed conflict between the sizeable ethnic Serb minority supported by the Serb-controlled Yugoslav Army and Croat forces. The eventual outcome was a Croatian victory which achieved independence and border preservation but came at a cost of billions of Euros in damaged infrastructure and lost output. A total of 20,000 people were killed and refugees were displaced on both sides. Since 1995 Croatia has joined Nato (2009), the EU (2013) and the Schengen Zone (2023) - enlargement of Europe’s border-free area.

There were no obvious signs of the country’s recent turmoil as we drove across an invisible border towards Kuterevo, a small village situated between the coast and the Velebit Mountains. Since 2002, the villagers of Kuterevo have worked alongside volunteers to provides a unique sanctuary for orphaned and unwanted brown bears. Always a little wary about visiting wildlife sanctuaries, we were relieved and in awe of what Kuterevo has achieved. The love and attention to detail in creating an environment as natural as possible for bears that, due to human involvement, are no longer able to experience independent living was great to see. Hand carved, brightly coloured signs depicting each bear’s name and character, were displayed outside the large enclosures and the bears looked to be in excellent condition. Where possible the bears were living in groups of 2 or 3 with 10 bears in total. The sanctuary is free to visit and if you can grab a busy volunteer they are more than happy to give you the history of each bear and information about the refuge going forward. Volunteering opportunities can be found on http://volunteerhq.org/destinations/croatia/bear-conservation-in-kuterevo and http://www.cometocroatia.holiday/healthy-holiday/kuterevo-bear-sanctuary has an interesting and moving article with more information. If after reading you would like to make a donation, the details are:

Kuterevo Bear Refugium
Erste Bank 53220 Otocac
IBAN: HR3024020061100267578
SWIFT: ESBCHR22

It is true that most people visit Croatia for its spectacular coastline but one area well worth seeing is Plitvice Lakes National Park. Yes, it is overrun with bus loads of tourists on a day out from the coastal resorts, but if you can overlook the masses, the chain of 16 terraced lakes, joined by waterfalls extending into a limestone canyon is quite a sight. Tickets are expensive at €40/person and hiking is restricted to boardwalks and specific trails that run around the park but once inside there are free buses that will take you to different spots as well as numerous electric boats that you hop on and off as much as you want.

So far, we had escaped the worst of the mid-summer heat by staying at higher elevations but we now needed to get to Dubrovnik to collect some mail, namely a number of replacement credit and debit cards that had been sent from Australia by Ian’s sister. You always wonder when you make a decision (such as avoiding the coast) whether you have made the right choice or not. On our journey to Dubrovnik we called in at the coastal towns of Zadar and Split which were undeniably beautiful with their old centres and glossy harbours but OMG they were so busy and, combined with the intense heat, overwhelming. Trying to get a pitch at any of the campsites was a fool’s errand and any thoughts we might have entertained about exploring the coast and its islands was immediately quashed. Dubrovnik was even worse but at least we had booked a hotel for a couple of nights where we could come up with a new plan.

aroundtheworldin-definitely

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The Balkans Blogs

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Albania

Croatia & Montenegro

Croatia, Montenegro & Bosnia

Slovenia & Croatia

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