Montenegro

May 15, 2005-Luck & Curses
(Photos:St. Tripun,
Restaurant Jadran)

Montenegro sounds so exotic. I always associated it with intrigue and romantic liaisons. The road there still followed the Alps and subjected us to two more sedentary hours. Viki filled us in on the islands we were passing. Lokrun Island had an interesting story. Black robed Benedictine monks were there when Napoleon arrived in 1806. He abolished the Republic of Dubrovnik and wanted the island for France. He sent three messengers to tell the monks to leave. Before the messengers arrived the monks circled the island carrying candles dripping wax and praying that God would curse anyone who came after they left. Maximilian of the Hapsburgs arrived only to be later killed in Mexico. Rudolph of the Hapsburgs came and eventually committed suicide. A group of Croats bought it and went bankrupt. It’s now a nudist beach and called Love Island. It has gone from people having bad luck to getting lucky.

Slavic tribes who settled there in the 7th century were fierce, proud, and patriotic. The same holds today. Society is still organized by tribes and there is a saying that “man is born tired and lives to rest.”

Viki gave us a more garbled rundown than usual but did recommend that we read Black Land and Gray Flacon by Rebecca West. In brief: Phoenicians, Illyrians, Greeks, Romans, Catholics, Orthodox, Turks, and Venetians. In 1878 they appointed their own prince-bishop and a military democracy (oxymoron) based on tribal structure was formed. Eventually there was King Nikola who ruled fifty-eight years and had eleven children. During WWI Montenegro fought alongside Serbians and Nikola fled to France. His daughters ended up marrying into European royalty. Montenegro was chosen by Italy to be Italian for WWII then disappeared into Yugoslavia.

It was dicey crossing the border into Montenegro. We were told not to say a word if the authorities came on the bus but they didn’t. It’s a nervous peace and is the only border Albanians can cross to get to Croatia and a better life. Montenegro is the smallest region of the former Yugoslavia with a population of 60,000. Signs are in Cyrillic and Latin letters to accommodate the Serbs, Croats, and Muslims who live there and the Russians on vacation. It’s a rundown poor sister of Serbia and has a long way to go to be accepted into the EU. Montenegro is a satellite of Serbia and its only port. The Serbian Orthodox religion and the Serbo-Croatian language link them. When the dinar was devalued and inflation was rampant the government decided to convert to the Euro. Overnight a truckload of Euros was delivered to Serbia and the dinar was replaced. There are few stores that accept Croatian kunas but all take Euros.

We first visited Kotor on the bay of the same name. The city walls are a UNESCO site and were heavily damaged in the earthquake of 1979 and subsequently rebuilt. It looked as picturesque as many towns we’ve seen until we got off the bus. It was garbage-strewn, in need of repair, and riddled with gypsies who were eager to fleece us.

Bells rang the end of Mass as we strolled towards the Church of St.Triphun. It was originally Romanesque but has had many incarnations and is now also Gothic and Renaissance. Some of its pillars are built from blocks of red marble and soar in groups of four clustered back-to-back. Relics of the saint were brought in 1809 and there are ornate filigree altarpieces and hanging candelabra. The most interesting event today was the christening of a year old gorgeous blond boy who enjoyed the water being poured over his head and wanted to grab hold of the candle.
The next church was the Orthodox Church of St. Nikola built in 1909. The inside front wall of icons was stunning but the incense and smoke from all the candles drove us out.

Budva

It was 45-minutes and a drive through a long unlit tunnel to get to Budva. I had heard of Budva and again thought of it as a place of mystery. There was no mystery to the smells and dirt. The Restaurant Jadran was an oasis. It was on the waterfront and tried to make the bleak surroundings more appealing with flowers and fountains. Pork steak and proscuitto was served so we got a plate of assorted cheeses and beefsteak. It was greasy but filling. Dessert was a close cousin of baklava in a triangular shape. It was so full of honey it could have been rung out without altering the taste. We walked along the graffiti marred walls built by Austrians in 1836 without much of a narrative by Viki. I don’t know why they didn’t hire a local guide. Perhaps there isn’t much to learn, but that’s hard to believe. A Japanese tour group seemed to go off in a different direction with much commentary and purpose.

A ferry ride shortened our return trip. Viki took the time to review where we’d been, what we’d seen, and what special touches she had provided for us. Tipping time is near.

We were on our own tonight. The bus took us to the old city and we ate at Ragusa 2. Laura Lee tackled scampi in the shell. She was ruthless about tearing the heads off. I had pasta Bolognese, Judi and David had highly spiced pepper steak that was excellent. Laura Lee threw the waiter when she tried to write the tip on her charge receipt. He was politely apoplectic but insisted that he wanted cash on the table. Laura Lee said she’s disappointed that this is the first night she hasn’t had ice cream. We’re sitting in our room as I am writing and enjoying the last of the pear brandy.

Tomorrow is a free day. We’ll most likely return to the old city and walk the parapets.

Toby