Showing posts with label Montenegro. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Montenegro. Show all posts
Friday, June 12, 2009
Resumé des vacances en français
On est revenu de Monténégro. Je n'ai pas eu le courage de mettre en français toutes les entrées du blog au fur et à mesure. Voici un résumé :
Paris - Tubingen - Salzburg : La Prius roule vraiment très bien. Elle est confortable après des années de Prévia (qui n'était pas horrible, mais quand même...). En tout cas, il faisait beau et elle roulait si bien, sans avoir besoin de boire, alors au lieu de s'arrêter pour une petite visite à Strasbourg, nous nous sommes retrouvés le soir à Tübingen! On s'était arrêté à Horb, où Paul avait fait ses "classes" pendant son service militaire en '71, mais, à part le fait que c'est toujours une charmante petite ville, il n'y avait pas de quoi s'extasier. Tübingen est charmante, une petite ville universitaire presque entièrement piéton/vélos. Notre GPS nous indiquait un hôtel "Am Schoss" et nous trouvions ça charmant, près du château, mais dans le dédale de rues, il était difficile de nous frayer un chemin "auto". Les allemands sont très friands des asperges et j'ai mangé un menu asperge du début (soupe) jusqu'à la fin (mousse asperges/rhubarbe avec un coulis de framboise). Paul a eu du sanglier avec de la polenta. Nous étions tous les deux très contents. Le lendemain, autobahn vers Munich avec des travaux tout au tour de Munich, pour arriver tôt dans l'après-midi à Salzburg.
Salzburg : une vraie carte postale. Ou le modèle pour Disneyland. Très joli, très baroque. Le décor du film "Le son de la musique". Pour les amateurs de voitures anciennes, nous avons assister à un rallye. Plutôt, il y avait un rallye et où que nous nous promenâmes, nous rencontrions ces voitures. (Un Bescherelle serait le bienvenu, là, je crois.)
Salzburg-Zagreb : un peu d'autobahn, un peu de route de montagne au mois de mai. Les prairies sont toutes fleuries. Sans arrêt en Slovénie, nous sommes arrivés suffisamment tôt pour prendre le tram et nous promener dans la vieille ville quelques heures. Encore un menu asperges!
Zagreb-Dubrovnik : autoroute et route de montagne côtière en Croatie. C'est très joli, mais même le joli devient un peu monotone. Il faut voir cette côte depuis la mer. Les belles petites plages ne semblent accessible que depuis la mer. Sinon, c'est un peu la construction à la Côte d'Azur dans les années 60.
Dubrovnik : Arrivé en fin d'après-midi à Dubrovnik, on s'est laissé guidé par une dame qui nous a loué une chambre en haut de la ville avec une vue magnifique sur la vieille ville. Sauf que la vieille ville est tout blanc et propre avec les toits rouges tous neufs. Mais c'est à voir. Nous y avons passé la soirée et le lendemain matin à faire le tour des remparts, explorer les rues.
Dubrovnik-Herceg Novi : C'est un saut de puce de quelques kilomètres, mais on traverse des frontières. Croatie - Bosnie-Herzégovine - Croatie - Monténégro. L'agence Black Mountain se trouve à la gare routière, facile à trouver. De là, on nous a accompagné à notre appartement à mi-hauteur entre la route du bas et la route du haut. J'ai oublié de dire que tout est à la verticale. Il y a des escaliers entre la mer, la route du bas et la route du haut. Et notre appartement était encore au dernier étage de l'immeuble !
Herceg Novi - petite ballade de découverte. Nous sommes descendus à la mer, direction marina et le bureau principal de l'agence où nous nous sommes présentés à Hayley, l'épouse de Jack. Sa mère était là aussi et elle nous a raccompagné à mi-hauteur, dans la vielle ville, à la place de l'église où se trouve des restaurants et des cafés. Notre première surprise est le prix des repas. A deux, nous avons déjeuné pour environs 20 €. Ensuite, en rentrant chez nous, nous nous sommes arrêtés à un supermarché pour acheter de quoi faire nos petit-déjeuners et légers repas du soir. En tout, environs 11 €.
Le lendemain, nous nous sommes rendu dans le parc de Mt. Lovçen via la baie de Kotor; j'ai grimpé jusqu'au monument du grand poète du pays. Cette baie est magnifique. Alors mercredi, après un café le matin avec Jack (et son fils, Max, 2 ans et demi), nous avons faits une excursion en bateau. Ça a duré toute la journée : la baie, la petite église de Notre Dame de la Rocher au large de Perrast, la ville de Kotor (plus petite que Dubrovnik, mais tout aussi intéressante avec des constructions de toutes les époques depuis la renaissance) et enfin Perrast, une ville presque fantôme du 17è siècle.
Jeudi, une excursion en voiture vers le lac Skadar (Scutari), vers la frontière avec l'Albanie. C'est un paysage très sauvage, très beau. Vendredi, nous sommes restés en ville, à Herceg Novi, à visiter le château (herceg) qui n'est plus très neuf (novi). Il y avait des orages, tellement que Hayley a renoncé à monter déjeuner avec nous. Jack est venu et nous avons pu discuter un peu mieux de ce qu'ils ont déjà accompli et ce qu'ils veulent encore faire. C'est passionnant.
Samedi, il nous est venu l'étrange idée d'aller voir Mostar. On aurait pu faire une petite déviation sur le chemin de retour. Non, on en a fait une excursion de la journée. Il reste encore des traces de balles sur des maisons, mais la plupart des constructions sont soit réparées, soit plus récentes. Le fameux pont est tout neuf. La ville est une grande entreprise touristique : une rue principale qui mène au pont, un peu comme à Mont St. Michel, Lourdes, ou la rue de Steinkerque à Paris. Nous n'avons pas tardé sur place.
Dimanche, excursion au monastère d'Ostrag.
Lundi, promenade à pied dans Herceg Novi, en évitant la pluie.
Le retour : Départ le lendemain sous un déluge. Alors, à propos de ce départ. Notre chère Prius "mange" les cartes d'identité ! Oui ! Arrivé à la frontière, ma carte avait disparu. Alors, il est facile de toujours dire que Ellen perd tout, y compris sa tête. Nous sommes retournés en ville, mais la rue est devenue un torrent et il était dérisoire de penser trouver la carte qui serait tombée par terre. J'avais mon passeport, alors pas de souci pour sortir de Monténégro, mais là, arrivé encore au poste de frontière et c'est la carte de Paul qui avait disparue ! Lui, qui ne perd jamais rien. En cherchant, mon ongle a découvert une fente entre le compartiment où nous avons mis les papiers et la radio, au dessus. Nous sommes convaincus que nos cartes sont parties dans cette fente, mais démonter la voiture serait disproportionné -- et si elles n'y étaient pas....? Nous serions vraiment fous !
Il y a un ferry de Split à Ancone, en Italie, alors plutôt que de continuer sur la route côtière vers Trieste selon notre projet original, nous avons pris ce ferry. Mais nous disposions de quelques heures avant le départ pour découvrir Split.
Nous avions le projet de visiter un peu l'Italie du nord, mais après les prix bas de Monténégro, nous étions d'accord que l'Italie nous semblerait excessivement cher et qu'il serait dommage de finir les vacances avec cette impression. Nous avons pris l'autostrada pour ne le quitter qu'après Turin. Là nous avons pris la route de Mont Cénis. Nous avons eu le temps de nous promener à Chambéry avant le dîner et le lendemain, nous sommes rentrés à la maison.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
End of the Journey
The Prius Ate Our IDs
This was on Tuesday, as we were leaving Montenegro. We put our IDs into the compartment beneath the radio. At the border station, my ID card was missing. It's me; I'm always misplacing things, etc., etc. It was raining cats and dogs, too. I had my passport, so it was not a catastrophe, just another panic situation -- me going crazy. We went back into Herceg Novi to where we had been parked, but by this time the street was a river and there was no chance a dropped card would have stuck to the pavement. We went to the agency because I thought I should declare the loss then and there, but the young woman on duty (neither Hayley nor Jack was in) called the police and said the consensus was that, since I had my passport, I should declare the loss back in France. So, off we went -- again. And I presented my passport; the border guard smiled and asked if we had gone back to the hotel and not had any luck...... The thing of it is, this time it was Paul's ID that was missing! I was not going to be alone in my craziness. As we searched all over the car, again, and stuck our hands into that compartment many times, my fingernail got caught at the very top. There's a tiny slit, and we figured that the cards must have slid into it. But the only way we're going to find out is to take the car to Toyota and see if they can dismantle the dashboard and I think the cost of that would be greater than just declaring the cards lost and replacing them. Besides, what if we had the dash dismantled and the cards weren't there; it would be confirmation that we're crazy, right?
Well after we intended to be on our way we finally set off up the coast once more. It rained off and on, but when it was "on" it was torrential. By the time we got up to Split, however, it had stopped. We followed the signs to take the highway up to Split, but the signs are up ahead of the highway being ready, so it's a real detour off the coast road and into the mountains, along the border with Bosnia. It's beautiful and was a welcome change of scenery.
We got to Split in plenty of time to buy ferry tickets and visit the town. The ferry docks are really at the foot of the old roman town, such a pleasant change from the Calais/Dover ferries that are in industrial zones. We got our tickets, parked in the boarding line (free parking!) and walked into Split to spend a couple of hours exploring. I think Paul was especially pleased because we got to see antique ruins. The cathedral, for example, is built in the old roman temple structure. The town is very well preserved. The alleys are so narrow, they could only handle pedestrian traffic -- no horses or carts.
The next morning we woke up with the Italian coast in sight. It took a bit of time to unload the ferry (but less than it had taken the night before to load -- we had quite a show watching the last of the trucks getting on board). We decided not to tarry, so we hit the autostrada and didn't get off until we decided not to take the Frejus tunnel after Turin, but rather go up through the Mount Cenis pass and on to Chambery. We had time for a pleasant stroll though Chambery before dinner. I didn't take any pictures, though, just looked. On Thursday, we continued on the smaller roads before finally getting back on the autoroute in Macon. We arrived home in the afternoon.
So, now we are home. It is Sunday, today, and when I get my hands on my voting card, I'll take my passport and go vote in the European elections.
This was on Tuesday, as we were leaving Montenegro. We put our IDs into the compartment beneath the radio. At the border station, my ID card was missing. It's me; I'm always misplacing things, etc., etc. It was raining cats and dogs, too. I had my passport, so it was not a catastrophe, just another panic situation -- me going crazy. We went back into Herceg Novi to where we had been parked, but by this time the street was a river and there was no chance a dropped card would have stuck to the pavement. We went to the agency because I thought I should declare the loss then and there, but the young woman on duty (neither Hayley nor Jack was in) called the police and said the consensus was that, since I had my passport, I should declare the loss back in France. So, off we went -- again. And I presented my passport; the border guard smiled and asked if we had gone back to the hotel and not had any luck...... The thing of it is, this time it was Paul's ID that was missing! I was not going to be alone in my craziness. As we searched all over the car, again, and stuck our hands into that compartment many times, my fingernail got caught at the very top. There's a tiny slit, and we figured that the cards must have slid into it. But the only way we're going to find out is to take the car to Toyota and see if they can dismantle the dashboard and I think the cost of that would be greater than just declaring the cards lost and replacing them. Besides, what if we had the dash dismantled and the cards weren't there; it would be confirmation that we're crazy, right?
Well after we intended to be on our way we finally set off up the coast once more. It rained off and on, but when it was "on" it was torrential. By the time we got up to Split, however, it had stopped. We followed the signs to take the highway up to Split, but the signs are up ahead of the highway being ready, so it's a real detour off the coast road and into the mountains, along the border with Bosnia. It's beautiful and was a welcome change of scenery.
We got to Split in plenty of time to buy ferry tickets and visit the town. The ferry docks are really at the foot of the old roman town, such a pleasant change from the Calais/Dover ferries that are in industrial zones. We got our tickets, parked in the boarding line (free parking!) and walked into Split to spend a couple of hours exploring. I think Paul was especially pleased because we got to see antique ruins. The cathedral, for example, is built in the old roman temple structure. The town is very well preserved. The alleys are so narrow, they could only handle pedestrian traffic -- no horses or carts.
The next morning we woke up with the Italian coast in sight. It took a bit of time to unload the ferry (but less than it had taken the night before to load -- we had quite a show watching the last of the trucks getting on board). We decided not to tarry, so we hit the autostrada and didn't get off until we decided not to take the Frejus tunnel after Turin, but rather go up through the Mount Cenis pass and on to Chambery. We had time for a pleasant stroll though Chambery before dinner. I didn't take any pictures, though, just looked. On Thursday, we continued on the smaller roads before finally getting back on the autoroute in Macon. We arrived home in the afternoon.
So, now we are home. It is Sunday, today, and when I get my hands on my voting card, I'll take my passport and go vote in the European elections.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Finishing up in Montenegro
Lunch in Mostar
On a whim, and perhaps because we weren't thinking straight, we decided to go to Mostar. This is something we had said we could do on our way up to Split on our way home; it's a little out of the way, but in the right direction. Instead, we decided to make a day trip of it. Jack had suggested we try the quiet little border crossing past the tomb of the Napoleonic War soldier, but we missed the turnoff to that and ended up at the big border crossing with the line. For once, however, I did not miss the turnoff to a small road that runs more or less parallel to the coast road and we had a beautiful view from there. In Croatia, the roads are in better shape than in Montenegro; you get the impression that EU funds have already been spent. Unfortunately, I misread the map again and we ended up down on the coast road just past Dubrovnic airport, but we managed to find another turn to get us to the Bosnia-Herzegovina border and to the scenic road up in the mountains. There are more signs of the recent war, here: homes abandonned, homes with shell shots not yet patched up. The closer to Mostar, the more traces there are.
We know of Mostar because of the bridge. This single-arch steep bridge symbolized the divided Christian and Moslem communities and when it was destroyed, it was considered the bottom of the war, so of course, when it was rebuilt, that symbolized the end of it all. This was just over 10 years ago -- that's all! Would we have made a detour to visit Mostar if there had not been a famous battle culminating in the destruction of the bridge? Maybe. The old bridge must have been a tourist must-see. Now, you get to see the new version of the old bridge. There's another, smaller, new "old" bridge, the "crooked bridge", which is said to have served as the model for
the larger bridge. We had lunch at a little restaurant with a view of the little bridge. After lunch, we walked a few meters farther and saw the famous bridge. We walked over it and it is very steep, so steep there are raised stones every step to brake you (or, I suppose in the old days, to brake a cart). It's interesting, but it is brand new, so the interest resides in the symbolism.
Probably Mostar had an productive economy before the war. You can see vacant factories and an industrial zone. It looks like Mostar's economy is only tourism. From where we managed to park the car down to the river, which is a beautiful river, was like walking up the rue de Steinkerque in Paris, the main street in Lourdes, the hill on Mont St. Michel. It was like running the gauntlet of souvenir sellers on the way to the Great Wall in China, or at an Egyptian temple. It always makes me uncomfortable. There's the constant call of people telling you look at their wares; you can't stop to look even if you think there might be something of interest because if you stop, you're hooked. And here, in particular, there's the constant reminder that the old bridge was destroyed. I don't thing events like that should be forgotten, but if you buy an image of the old bridge as it was, or what was left of it, will that help the communities get on with their lives? There were other souvenirs, too: chess sets, babouches, key chains and so on. Altogether too much. That being said, the town was full of tourists, so whatever I may think of such artificial souvenirs, it works. It's not yet the tourist season for foreigners, so most of the cars were local and we didn't hear many people speaking other languages. I did hear French, though, when a guided group stopped at the bridge.
As I said, this was a day trip -- about 350 km. round trip. We came back down the coast road. The sky was incredibly clearer than first time. The water was deep blue.
The Ostrag Monastery
Jack had suggested, in the notes he sent to us, that we should take a mini-bus up to Ostrag -- the drive is a bit difficult and we would get more information than if we went on our own. This is the only time we've been disappointed. The tour is not a Black Mountain tour; they simply sell tickets for the tour that another agency runs.
The mini-bus and driver were waiting for us when we walked up to the bus station a little before 6 a.m. The driver did not seem to recognize our tickets and did not seem to speak English, but I assured him that we had been told it was indeed Trend Travel that was taking us and that his bus said Trrnd Travel and Ostrag Monastery (in Cyrillic, but still I could read that). So, we got on and we picked up a woman at the other end of the town. She sat up front next to the driver so I thought she might be a guide, but she didn't say anything to us beyond hello. After crossing on
the ferry, we picked up another woman and her daughter and a Russian couple. The bus was full and we were on our way, but there didn't seem to be any guide at all. There was not any communication at all until we stopped at 8:30 for a cup of coffee. The daughter, a young woman in her late teens, early twenties, spoke a little English and we exchanged a few words, but not about the monastery.
The road had been all right up to the coffee stop. There were a couple of unpaved patches, but passing was still uneventful. From that point, however, the road is really narrow and in bad shape. There's a lot of traffic and passing is doable, of course, but not easy. Still, regular cars make the climb all the way up to the monastery. There are some stops along the way. There's the nun's monastery, with guest housing and a chapel, and another chapel with an outdoor baptism platform. Many people park down at these places and walk up to the monastery; it is a very steep climb up stairs through the woods.
We drove all the way up. We followed the crowd and went in, but after climbing and
climbing stairs in a tower, we stopped and went down. That, it turns out, was a mistake, because the chapel is at the top of the stairs. We knew there was supposed to be a chapel, but thought we had made a mistake by going up the tower. Here is where it would have been nice to be a bit guided. We looked at the books on sale (with icons and beads), but they weren't for tourists; they were meant for pilgrims, so there was nothing in English or French. Our driver had not said what time to be back, so we hung around the bus until everyone else showed up.
On the way down we stopped at the chapel where a bunch of young children were being baptized and then at the nuns' monastery. Back at the place where we had had our coffee earlier we had lunch and then it was time for the long drive back to Herceg Novi.
A Beach Day
We decided to stay an extra day in Herceg Novi and then take the ferry from Split to Ancuna in
Italy and from there just take the autostrada straight up towards Milan and then on to home. It
was a sort of folly to think that we'd want to tarry in Italy. Italy is a whole other trip. I think the sticker shock is what convinced us. In Montenegro everything costs about half of what we spend in France, maybe even more than half off. Italy is the same as France, maybe a little more.
Anyway, today was supposed to be a day to relax, go to the beach (not what I would really call a beach, but rather a concrete esplanade along the waterfront). We went to see the Roman mosaics from the 3rd century first. That's on the road to Kotor, in Risan, before you get to Perast.
There are two sites pointed out on the road, but Jack warned us that the prehistoric rock paintings were no longer visible, having been blacked out by kids who lit a fire in the cave. The signs to the Roman villa mosaics are poorly placed, but we stopped and asked our way. They are right next to the hospital, actually. It's not as vast as the 4th century villa in Sicily and the mosaics are not as elaborate or elegant, but they are still worthy of a visit. It just started raining on the way home and although we managed to get out again during a pause in the storm, it's been raining on and off all day. So, a relaxing day, yes. Beach day, no.
On a whim, and perhaps because we weren't thinking straight, we decided to go to Mostar. This is something we had said we could do on our way up to Split on our way home; it's a little out of the way, but in the right direction. Instead, we decided to make a day trip of it. Jack had suggested we try the quiet little border crossing past the tomb of the Napoleonic War soldier, but we missed the turnoff to that and ended up at the big border crossing with the line. For once, however, I did not miss the turnoff to a small road that runs more or less parallel to the coast road and we had a beautiful view from there. In Croatia, the roads are in better shape than in Montenegro; you get the impression that EU funds have already been spent. Unfortunately, I misread the map again and we ended up down on the coast road just past Dubrovnic airport, but we managed to find another turn to get us to the Bosnia-Herzegovina border and to the scenic road up in the mountains. There are more signs of the recent war, here: homes abandonned, homes with shell shots not yet patched up. The closer to Mostar, the more traces there are.
We know of Mostar because of the bridge. This single-arch steep bridge symbolized the divided Christian and Moslem communities and when it was destroyed, it was considered the bottom of the war, so of course, when it was rebuilt, that symbolized the end of it all. This was just over 10 years ago -- that's all! Would we have made a detour to visit Mostar if there had not been a famous battle culminating in the destruction of the bridge? Maybe. The old bridge must have been a tourist must-see. Now, you get to see the new version of the old bridge. There's another, smaller, new "old" bridge, the "crooked bridge", which is said to have served as the model for
the larger bridge. We had lunch at a little restaurant with a view of the little bridge. After lunch, we walked a few meters farther and saw the famous bridge. We walked over it and it is very steep, so steep there are raised stones every step to brake you (or, I suppose in the old days, to brake a cart). It's interesting, but it is brand new, so the interest resides in the symbolism.
Probably Mostar had an productive economy before the war. You can see vacant factories and an industrial zone. It looks like Mostar's economy is only tourism. From where we managed to park the car down to the river, which is a beautiful river, was like walking up the rue de Steinkerque in Paris, the main street in Lourdes, the hill on Mont St. Michel. It was like running the gauntlet of souvenir sellers on the way to the Great Wall in China, or at an Egyptian temple. It always makes me uncomfortable. There's the constant call of people telling you look at their wares; you can't stop to look even if you think there might be something of interest because if you stop, you're hooked. And here, in particular, there's the constant reminder that the old bridge was destroyed. I don't thing events like that should be forgotten, but if you buy an image of the old bridge as it was, or what was left of it, will that help the communities get on with their lives? There were other souvenirs, too: chess sets, babouches, key chains and so on. Altogether too much. That being said, the town was full of tourists, so whatever I may think of such artificial souvenirs, it works. It's not yet the tourist season for foreigners, so most of the cars were local and we didn't hear many people speaking other languages. I did hear French, though, when a guided group stopped at the bridge.
As I said, this was a day trip -- about 350 km. round trip. We came back down the coast road. The sky was incredibly clearer than first time. The water was deep blue.
The Ostrag Monastery
Jack had suggested, in the notes he sent to us, that we should take a mini-bus up to Ostrag -- the drive is a bit difficult and we would get more information than if we went on our own. This is the only time we've been disappointed. The tour is not a Black Mountain tour; they simply sell tickets for the tour that another agency runs.
The mini-bus and driver were waiting for us when we walked up to the bus station a little before 6 a.m. The driver did not seem to recognize our tickets and did not seem to speak English, but I assured him that we had been told it was indeed Trend Travel that was taking us and that his bus said Trrnd Travel and Ostrag Monastery (in Cyrillic, but still I could read that). So, we got on and we picked up a woman at the other end of the town. She sat up front next to the driver so I thought she might be a guide, but she didn't say anything to us beyond hello. After crossing on
the ferry, we picked up another woman and her daughter and a Russian couple. The bus was full and we were on our way, but there didn't seem to be any guide at all. There was not any communication at all until we stopped at 8:30 for a cup of coffee. The daughter, a young woman in her late teens, early twenties, spoke a little English and we exchanged a few words, but not about the monastery.
The road had been all right up to the coffee stop. There were a couple of unpaved patches, but passing was still uneventful. From that point, however, the road is really narrow and in bad shape. There's a lot of traffic and passing is doable, of course, but not easy. Still, regular cars make the climb all the way up to the monastery. There are some stops along the way. There's the nun's monastery, with guest housing and a chapel, and another chapel with an outdoor baptism platform. Many people park down at these places and walk up to the monastery; it is a very steep climb up stairs through the woods.
We drove all the way up. We followed the crowd and went in, but after climbing and
climbing stairs in a tower, we stopped and went down. That, it turns out, was a mistake, because the chapel is at the top of the stairs. We knew there was supposed to be a chapel, but thought we had made a mistake by going up the tower. Here is where it would have been nice to be a bit guided. We looked at the books on sale (with icons and beads), but they weren't for tourists; they were meant for pilgrims, so there was nothing in English or French. Our driver had not said what time to be back, so we hung around the bus until everyone else showed up.
On the way down we stopped at the chapel where a bunch of young children were being baptized and then at the nuns' monastery. Back at the place where we had had our coffee earlier we had lunch and then it was time for the long drive back to Herceg Novi.
A Beach Day
We decided to stay an extra day in Herceg Novi and then take the ferry from Split to Ancuna in
Italy and from there just take the autostrada straight up towards Milan and then on to home. It
was a sort of folly to think that we'd want to tarry in Italy. Italy is a whole other trip. I think the sticker shock is what convinced us. In Montenegro everything costs about half of what we spend in France, maybe even more than half off. Italy is the same as France, maybe a little more.
Anyway, today was supposed to be a day to relax, go to the beach (not what I would really call a beach, but rather a concrete esplanade along the waterfront). We went to see the Roman mosaics from the 3rd century first. That's on the road to Kotor, in Risan, before you get to Perast.
There are two sites pointed out on the road, but Jack warned us that the prehistoric rock paintings were no longer visible, having been blacked out by kids who lit a fire in the cave. The signs to the Roman villa mosaics are poorly placed, but we stopped and asked our way. They are right next to the hospital, actually. It's not as vast as the 4th century villa in Sicily and the mosaics are not as elaborate or elegant, but they are still worthy of a visit. It just started raining on the way home and although we managed to get out again during a pause in the storm, it's been raining on and off all day. So, a relaxing day, yes. Beach day, no.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Visiting Kotor Baz and Lake Skador
A Day on the Pajo
Started the day with a coffee with Jack and Max, who starteed his day with an ice cream cone (reminded of me a bit of how Louis often got off to a start). Max is a lively two-and-a-half year old who was normally a bit shy with us, of course; he seems to have mastered his dad to perfection. We even got to seee the whole family together, Jack, Max, Hayley and Hayley's mom. Jack gave us our ticket for the day-long boat cruise around the bay and we boarded at just after 10. Jack and Hazlez-s business, Black Mountain Travel, is off to a great start - well-established as a leader in outdoor travel activities like hiking and biking. Jack is involved in the overall Montenegran tourism development strategy and organization.
Pajo -- it's Donald Duck! It's the name of this little craft that was already full (just over 20 tourists and 2 crew), but not uncomfortably so. We headed into the bay and got a much better view than when we drove around it. The churches and monasteries are beautiful, either planted high up overlooking the bay from some isolated, practically inaccessible promentory, or down on the waterfront in the center of a village.
We stopped at Our Lady of the Rock, which we had photographed already too much on our drive. It's a church/museum on a man-made island. Apparently, there was a tree all by itself on a rock and a picture of the virgin was found hanging from it. This was considered a miracle, so for 200 years, the people of Perast sank boats and rocks around the tree until they had this artificial island and then they built this church. It's a little gem. It's completely painted inside the walls and the ceiling were all done by a single painter over a 10-year period. The walls are also lined with silver ex-votos from survivors of naval accidents or battles. Survivors also give gifts of paintings and local people give gifts of thanks -- like the old iron or sewing machine -- when they get a new one. There's a room full of these relics from 400 years ago to yesterday. Brides also leave a little souvenir before leaving the church if they got married there. It's really quite interesting. There's another church on a natural island just a few meters away, but we didn't learn anything about it.
We didn't stop at Perast on our way out, but we did on the way back from Kotor. It's a narrow town between the bayfront and the cliff. It's got a church, St. Nicolas, in the center. It's basically abandonned. There are a few magnificent houses that could be restored, but it's like a ghost town.
The Pajo crew served us a little lunch on our way to Kotor, where we stopped long enough for a long walk around the old town and a cup of coffee. Some skipped visiting the town to hit the beach for a swim. Kotor is like a small version of Dubrovnik. Not having been so recently destroyed and restored, it seems more natural. They've taken care to identify the old residences of the great families of the town and even indicate the century of construction. It does help you place them. The city walls extend high up on the hill overlooking the city, but seeing the height of the mountains just behind, one wonders how effective the walls could have been.
This boat excursion is a must. It's the best way to see the bay and spend a relaxing time on the boat. We are not sun freaks, but there was room to climb up on the roof or the prow to catch some rays. There were plenty of sunburned people getting off at the end of the day.
Skador Lake
Off to a later start than usual, we headed down the coast, via the ferry, towards the Skador Lake, the biggest lake that is shared by Montenegro and Albania. It's a national park, protected wildlife zone, but threatened by the pollution of the river feeding into the lake, nonetheless. It looks like there are some fantastic hiking trails and plenty of birds to be on the lookout for. We saw a stuffed Dalmatian pelican at the visitors' center; it's one of the largest pelicans I've ever seen. The visitors' center is two flights up stairs, above the restaurant and administrative offices -- not really concucive to visiting. We had missed the turn off the road before the levee that leads to the visitors' center, so after lunch we headed back, found the road and started on a drive down the western edge of the lake. Our idea was to drive about half way down and then catch another road back to the coast, but we missed the turn and ended up driving almost down to the border before the road turned. We needed to be most vigilent to take the turn towards Bar! This drive is beautiful. It's another single-track, two-way road, so you have to be very wary of oncoming traffic, but there is usually just enough space just a ahead or behind to put the car close to the mountain and let the other car pass. The flowers are beautiful: genet, thistle, and many more. The bees are everywhere. We passed chestnut groves and olive groves. Everywhere, there were magnificent views of the lake. This southern part of Montenegro is predominantly muslim and you can identify the mosques by their minarets. Otherwise, one town looks like any other. On our drive back up via the coast we ran into some thunderstorms and heavy rain. So we were very lucky on our day up to Mt. Lovçen and our day cruising the bay not have had any rain, and today the rain struck at the end. In fact it didn't get to Herceg Novi until long after we did.
Started the day with a coffee with Jack and Max, who starteed his day with an ice cream cone (reminded of me a bit of how Louis often got off to a start). Max is a lively two-and-a-half year old who was normally a bit shy with us, of course; he seems to have mastered his dad to perfection. We even got to seee the whole family together, Jack, Max, Hayley and Hayley's mom. Jack gave us our ticket for the day-long boat cruise around the bay and we boarded at just after 10. Jack and Hazlez-s business, Black Mountain Travel, is off to a great start - well-established as a leader in outdoor travel activities like hiking and biking. Jack is involved in the overall Montenegran tourism development strategy and organization.
Pajo -- it's Donald Duck! It's the name of this little craft that was already full (just over 20 tourists and 2 crew), but not uncomfortably so. We headed into the bay and got a much better view than when we drove around it. The churches and monasteries are beautiful, either planted high up overlooking the bay from some isolated, practically inaccessible promentory, or down on the waterfront in the center of a village.
We stopped at Our Lady of the Rock, which we had photographed already too much on our drive. It's a church/museum on a man-made island. Apparently, there was a tree all by itself on a rock and a picture of the virgin was found hanging from it. This was considered a miracle, so for 200 years, the people of Perast sank boats and rocks around the tree until they had this artificial island and then they built this church. It's a little gem. It's completely painted inside the walls and the ceiling were all done by a single painter over a 10-year period. The walls are also lined with silver ex-votos from survivors of naval accidents or battles. Survivors also give gifts of paintings and local people give gifts of thanks -- like the old iron or sewing machine -- when they get a new one. There's a room full of these relics from 400 years ago to yesterday. Brides also leave a little souvenir before leaving the church if they got married there. It's really quite interesting. There's another church on a natural island just a few meters away, but we didn't learn anything about it.
We didn't stop at Perast on our way out, but we did on the way back from Kotor. It's a narrow town between the bayfront and the cliff. It's got a church, St. Nicolas, in the center. It's basically abandonned. There are a few magnificent houses that could be restored, but it's like a ghost town.
The Pajo crew served us a little lunch on our way to Kotor, where we stopped long enough for a long walk around the old town and a cup of coffee. Some skipped visiting the town to hit the beach for a swim. Kotor is like a small version of Dubrovnik. Not having been so recently destroyed and restored, it seems more natural. They've taken care to identify the old residences of the great families of the town and even indicate the century of construction. It does help you place them. The city walls extend high up on the hill overlooking the city, but seeing the height of the mountains just behind, one wonders how effective the walls could have been.
This boat excursion is a must. It's the best way to see the bay and spend a relaxing time on the boat. We are not sun freaks, but there was room to climb up on the roof or the prow to catch some rays. There were plenty of sunburned people getting off at the end of the day.
Skador Lake
Off to a later start than usual, we headed down the coast, via the ferry, towards the Skador Lake, the biggest lake that is shared by Montenegro and Albania. It's a national park, protected wildlife zone, but threatened by the pollution of the river feeding into the lake, nonetheless. It looks like there are some fantastic hiking trails and plenty of birds to be on the lookout for. We saw a stuffed Dalmatian pelican at the visitors' center; it's one of the largest pelicans I've ever seen. The visitors' center is two flights up stairs, above the restaurant and administrative offices -- not really concucive to visiting. We had missed the turn off the road before the levee that leads to the visitors' center, so after lunch we headed back, found the road and started on a drive down the western edge of the lake. Our idea was to drive about half way down and then catch another road back to the coast, but we missed the turn and ended up driving almost down to the border before the road turned. We needed to be most vigilent to take the turn towards Bar! This drive is beautiful. It's another single-track, two-way road, so you have to be very wary of oncoming traffic, but there is usually just enough space just a ahead or behind to put the car close to the mountain and let the other car pass. The flowers are beautiful: genet, thistle, and many more. The bees are everywhere. We passed chestnut groves and olive groves. Everywhere, there were magnificent views of the lake. This southern part of Montenegro is predominantly muslim and you can identify the mosques by their minarets. Otherwise, one town looks like any other. On our drive back up via the coast we ran into some thunderstorms and heavy rain. So we were very lucky on our day up to Mt. Lovçen and our day cruising the bay not have had any rain, and today the rain struck at the end. In fact it didn't get to Herceg Novi until long after we did.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Arrived in Montenegro
Guess what – it's asparagus season in Croatia, too. I treated myself to another asparagus special for dinner – Scallops with baby green asparagus tips, au gratin. Excellent, again. I don't understand people who do not appreciate food anywhere but home. As long as I don't have to think about what we're going to have, I love it anywhere.
Dubrovnik
We headed out right after breakfast and were on the highway in no time. In fact, driving was so easy we did not stop at Split (or thereabouts) as we thought we would. We just kept on going down the coast, all the way to Dubrovnik. The Croatian coast is fairly well-preserved maquis and olive trees. There are lots of olive trees; I'm amazed we don't import Croatian olive oil yet. Of course there are also plenty of seaside towns with their stony beaches, but not anything like the French Riviera. This is what it must have been like before WWII in the south of France. It's not all Croatia down to Dubrovnik; there's a little strip of Bosnia-Herzegovina along a secondary road from Mostar to the sea. This is ridiculous. The main road from Mostar, along the river that empties into the sea, is in Croatia. The river delta plain is very rich farmland with lots of orchards (Oranges, Cherries, Olives, …) and vegetables. There is a lake just before the river hits the sea and it looks like the whole plain is irrigated from the lake. This is all in Croatia. Then you have a tiny border crossing into B-H, a village with a stop light, and oops, you're back in Croatia. This village is not even a port, really. It's just a beach town. The district of Dubrovnik, then, is like a island on land for Croatia. Of course there are regular boat services to all the real islands, too, so it's not so difficult and, since this is no longer a war zone, the road is continuous, too. On arriving in the city of Dubrovnik, just as we started wondering where we'd stop for the night, a lady standing in front of a place with rooms to let flagged us to a stop. We thought it was for rooms there, but it turned out she got in the car and let up the hillside to where we could park the car. From there we took stairs about halfway down to the road where we had picked her up. We had a room with a fantastic view of the old city! I think it was a bit over-charged, but still much cheaper than any hotel would have been.
All we had to do was follow the stairs down, and down, and down until we ended up at the western gate entrance to the old city. It was dinner time, so we walked around a little and ended up at the marina for dinner. Then, after dinner we wandered around some more. The layout of Dubrovnik reminds you of the middle ages, but between destructions by fire and earthquakes, and more recently, war (1991-92) the city is not all that old. Most of the churches (and there are quite a few!) seem to be baroque, 17th century, or thereabouts. There is a relatively modern city hall right next to what must have been a renaissance city hall. At that corner, there is a memorial museum dedicated to the 300 or so who died defending the city not even 20 years ago. When I first came to France in 1970, it was just 25 years after the end of WWII, so relatively speaking, I was seeing places that had been destroyed and rebuilt after the war and seeing people who had lived through all that in the same way. So why am I so impressed, now? I think it's because the break-up of Yugoslavia, and the siege of Dubrovnik in particular, is something that I remember. It's not ancient history for me.Time to go trekking up the stairs for a good night's sleep, although with the heat, I truly wonder if it's possible.
Herceg Novi
We visited Dubrovnik again in the morning – had breakfast and then went for a walk along the ramparts. 80% of the roofs are new. That's how much was destroyed. It was another scorching hot day, so when we felt as though we'd had enough, we got the car (which we had brought down and parked in a hotel garage so we wouldn't have to go up those stairs) and headed towards Montenegro. Montenegro does not yet belong to the EU, so crossing the border is a big thing that takes a long time. But once over the border, your almost in Herceg Novi We found the Black Mountain agency at the bus station with no trouble at all and were taken straight to our apartment. Here we are parked at the foot of the stairs. We didn't hang around too long before heading down to the main agency at the marina, where we met Hayley, had a chat, got our bearings and even walked back up the stairs to the old town with her mother, here on a visit. After lunch, we felt we deserved some down time and had a siesta. Then we had to wait for the water to come back on before taking a shower and having a small, home-made dinner.
Lovcen
We were up early, as usual, and it was all I could do to put off leaving the apartment before 8! We headed around the Bay of Kotor – absolutely breathtaking views and then up the mountain to the Petar Njegusi mausoleum, just opposite the Lovcen peak. The road up is not difficult, in theory. It's not steep. It winds back and forth at a gentle incline. If only it was built for two-way traffic. At the mausoleum, there's a little parking area and 400 some steps to take you about another 100 meters up to a 1930ish monument. The view should be fantastic, but in spite of the blue sky, there was a bit of haze that hid the Kodor Bay (northward) and Scutari Lake (southward). We took a larger road down to the old royal capital, Cetinje, had lunch almost in front of the Presidential Residence, and then continued down to the coast to drive back up to Herceg Novi. We didn't have to go all the way around the bay thanks to the ferry – a great €4 investment.
Dubrovnik
We headed out right after breakfast and were on the highway in no time. In fact, driving was so easy we did not stop at Split (or thereabouts) as we thought we would. We just kept on going down the coast, all the way to Dubrovnik. The Croatian coast is fairly well-preserved maquis and olive trees. There are lots of olive trees; I'm amazed we don't import Croatian olive oil yet. Of course there are also plenty of seaside towns with their stony beaches, but not anything like the French Riviera. This is what it must have been like before WWII in the south of France. It's not all Croatia down to Dubrovnik; there's a little strip of Bosnia-Herzegovina along a secondary road from Mostar to the sea. This is ridiculous. The main road from Mostar, along the river that empties into the sea, is in Croatia. The river delta plain is very rich farmland with lots of orchards (Oranges, Cherries, Olives, …) and vegetables. There is a lake just before the river hits the sea and it looks like the whole plain is irrigated from the lake. This is all in Croatia. Then you have a tiny border crossing into B-H, a village with a stop light, and oops, you're back in Croatia. This village is not even a port, really. It's just a beach town. The district of Dubrovnik, then, is like a island on land for Croatia. Of course there are regular boat services to all the real islands, too, so it's not so difficult and, since this is no longer a war zone, the road is continuous, too. On arriving in the city of Dubrovnik, just as we started wondering where we'd stop for the night, a lady standing in front of a place with rooms to let flagged us to a stop. We thought it was for rooms there, but it turned out she got in the car and let up the hillside to where we could park the car. From there we took stairs about halfway down to the road where we had picked her up. We had a room with a fantastic view of the old city! I think it was a bit over-charged, but still much cheaper than any hotel would have been.
All we had to do was follow the stairs down, and down, and down until we ended up at the western gate entrance to the old city. It was dinner time, so we walked around a little and ended up at the marina for dinner. Then, after dinner we wandered around some more. The layout of Dubrovnik reminds you of the middle ages, but between destructions by fire and earthquakes, and more recently, war (1991-92) the city is not all that old. Most of the churches (and there are quite a few!) seem to be baroque, 17th century, or thereabouts. There is a relatively modern city hall right next to what must have been a renaissance city hall. At that corner, there is a memorial museum dedicated to the 300 or so who died defending the city not even 20 years ago. When I first came to France in 1970, it was just 25 years after the end of WWII, so relatively speaking, I was seeing places that had been destroyed and rebuilt after the war and seeing people who had lived through all that in the same way. So why am I so impressed, now? I think it's because the break-up of Yugoslavia, and the siege of Dubrovnik in particular, is something that I remember. It's not ancient history for me.Time to go trekking up the stairs for a good night's sleep, although with the heat, I truly wonder if it's possible.
Herceg Novi
We visited Dubrovnik again in the morning – had breakfast and then went for a walk along the ramparts. 80% of the roofs are new. That's how much was destroyed. It was another scorching hot day, so when we felt as though we'd had enough, we got the car (which we had brought down and parked in a hotel garage so we wouldn't have to go up those stairs) and headed towards Montenegro. Montenegro does not yet belong to the EU, so crossing the border is a big thing that takes a long time. But once over the border, your almost in Herceg Novi We found the Black Mountain agency at the bus station with no trouble at all and were taken straight to our apartment. Here we are parked at the foot of the stairs. We didn't hang around too long before heading down to the main agency at the marina, where we met Hayley, had a chat, got our bearings and even walked back up the stairs to the old town with her mother, here on a visit. After lunch, we felt we deserved some down time and had a siesta. Then we had to wait for the water to come back on before taking a shower and having a small, home-made dinner.
Lovcen
We were up early, as usual, and it was all I could do to put off leaving the apartment before 8! We headed around the Bay of Kotor – absolutely breathtaking views and then up the mountain to the Petar Njegusi mausoleum, just opposite the Lovcen peak. The road up is not difficult, in theory. It's not steep. It winds back and forth at a gentle incline. If only it was built for two-way traffic. At the mausoleum, there's a little parking area and 400 some steps to take you about another 100 meters up to a 1930ish monument. The view should be fantastic, but in spite of the blue sky, there was a bit of haze that hid the Kodor Bay (northward) and Scutari Lake (southward). We took a larger road down to the old royal capital, Cetinje, had lunch almost in front of the Presidential Residence, and then continued down to the coast to drive back up to Herceg Novi. We didn't have to go all the way around the bay thanks to the ferry – a great €4 investment.
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