I hate hills…and tents!

13th March- Podgorica- Sveti Stefan (60km approx)

cycling out of an airport is a weird feeling, almost like you’re missing something. Anyway my bike wasn’t harmed and I managed to put it back together with little stress.

filip was waiting for me outside arrivals- he’s the guy I met on warm showers . For those of you who don’t know, warm showers is a great site for touring cyclists where you can exchange info on routes, get a place to stay or in this case share a journey together. He’s a lovely guy, quite traditional as he says is the way in Montenegro. He’s 27 and still trying to figure out what he wants to do in life, but his mum wants him to get married and have kids. His English is great, although he’s too modest to agree.

We stopped for lunch shortly after- his mum made us sandwiches and apple pie (probably the best I’ve tasted).

Once we got far enough away from the airport the scenery was beautiful. We passed lake skada- a huge lake that spans across Albania too.

There was a festival going on in a village we passed so we stopped for a nosey. Really glad we did, it was such a nice atmosphere, families enjoying local food (fish, meat and figs mainly), wine, beer and traditional music. The music I’m not so much a fan of, sounds like a mixture of the Thai boxing tune and Arabian nights theme! We got some strange looks, not many smiles.

Other than the stunning black mountains for scenery  (Montenegro means black mountain) we passed a snake at the side of the road, then further down the road a bunch of goats being herded by a dog and then had to break hard down a hill and round a bend when we came face to face with a bunch of cows.

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Lost goats

Filip warned me about the hills, but Jesus these were mountains! I asked if there was a way to avoid them and he mentioned a tunnel through them. I started to get hopeful until he explained bikes weren’t allowed; “So we go over the mountain” he said with a smerk on his face. After 20km of agonising climbs I wasn’t smiling! The downhills were breathtaking though, metaphorically and literally!

We were racing against time to find a place to camp before dark. We lost- it was near 7pm before we found somewhere suitable. The spot was a small beach a few kms from Sveti Stefan- a fancy beach resort. The next two hours we spent figuring out how to put my tent up. It was cold, dark and extremely windy, so a pretty painful experience. To top it off it was one of the worst night’s sleep I’ve ever had because the wind was so bad it sounded like my tent was going to blow away. It nearly did- half of the pegs had come out and I woke up with half my tent caved in. Practice makes perfect I suppose.

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Breakfast with a view

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My pitch for the night 

 

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