Back to Tivat Center

 

Can’t say I was upset about leaving that place.

I do have to note, though, that the host was very nice.  When I asked about a kettle (yep, I’m European now), he not only brought me one but also a coffee machine from one of the other units he rented out.  When I asked about a clothesline, he pointed me to the line used by the family which was located in their lovely garden area. 

That garden was another one covered in trellises and grape vines.  I asked him about harvest time (sometime in September) and did they eat the grapes, use them for wine, or what.  He said the family ate them.  That was surprising to me as there were a lot of grapes.

At the end of my stay, the host was also gracious enough to extend my check-out time as there was no one else scheduled in the place.  He also called a cab and kept in contact with the driver as there was a delay in his arrival.  I still couldn’t recommend the place because of the mold and mosquitos, but I also couldn’t trash the place in a review on the website.  I just thanked him for the hospitality and wished him the best.

After waiting for about an hour for the cab to arrive (at least I had some shade from the fruit trees and it wasn’t too hot), I was off to my next home for the week.  This time I actually did make it back to Tivat proper as I wasn’t eager to pay for another expensive cab ride to get to any other city.  Besides, I knew I’d be leaving the country soon and didn’t want to be too far away from the airport.

The host, like the last couple of places, lived on the property.  He was there to greet me and get my back up the three million stairs to my new place.  Upon opening the door, he immediately detected and odor.  I’d just come from mold central so it took me a minute.  He, however, recognized it as coming from the shower.  His brother soon came up to fix it followed by another brother (3 brothers in total – I asked) carrying a brand-new clothesline.  I was just about to ask for one while brother #1 told me this replaced the one broken by the previous guests.  Well, maybe if it wasn’t one of the plastic ones, it would last longer.  I prefer the metal ones.

Yep.  I’m European now.

Every apartment, in Montenegro in particular, seems to be a trade-off.  I wasn’t eaten alive by mosquitos in this place, but at least the old place had an oven and ample counter space.  It had a full-size fridge as opposed to a mini-fridge -- I do hate mini-fridges.  This place has a decent shower and no smell of mold (the shower was fine after cleaning), but I spent the week wedging myself between the sink and the washing machine just to get to the toilet.

I’m too old for this sh!t.

But again, the location was killer, just a short distance away from Jadranka’s place and even closer to the shops and harbor.  And another thing I’ll note.  This was one of the rare places that had electrical outlets for days.  There was even one outside on the balcony.  Nice.

A Week of Mold and Mosquitos

  

After my most recent debacles with simply getting a cab in Montenegro, I finally learned my lesson.  If a host tells me to just message them with any issues, I got an issue for you.

I shot the host the message as I was packing up.  She soon knocked on my door and we both took a seat as she called the cab company.  The last driver had given me his card and I’d given the number to her but no one was available.  She called another dude, translated cost, and helped me get the bags to the curb.

I’d managed to find another place in Tivat and let the cabbie know where we were going.  Or at least that’s what I thought.  My GPS and his were giving two different areas for the new place.  Eventually we just pulled over in a bakery parking lot while I called the host.

Now for a little geography lesson.

Risan is about 15 miles from Dobrota/Kotor and that area is about 15 miles from Tivat Center.  Problem was, this was not the only area that considered Tivat.  We ended up having to go in the opposite direction of the area I was used to, past the airport, and onto the part of Tivat Municipality that could be seen from Porto Montenegro.  Okay.  Seeing more of the country than I’d intended.

The host and the cabbie had to have one more conversation before we reached the right place.  This was another private residence with an apartment beneath the main house that they had rightly named the Underdeck.  The host was waiting just outside to help with my bags.

Now, admittedly, this place looked like the pictures.  I’ve never really had a listing with Airbnb that was a poor representation of a place.  It’s a studio, which I hate, but the place was cheap and was in a familiar area or at least that’s what I’d assumed.  No microwave but, like the last place, a stove and plenty of counter space.  Those were the good things.

What the pictures don’t convey is that the entire place slopes down towards the bathroom.  I spent the whole week stumbling around like a drunk because the floor kept putting me off balance.  Additionally, it turns out the apartment is a mosquito spawn point.  As many as I killed, another one just appears out of nowhere and none of them were drawn to the pretty blue light I bought months ago just to kill them.

The doorway is crooked and difficult to lock, the dining room chairs are so creaky I was afraid to sit in them, and the mold smell persists even with the air purifier and air fresheners, particularly when the cabinets are open.  The damp also explains the mosquitos and the fact that when I put my dirty pair of jeans on the floor of the tiny laundry room in the bathroom, they ended up soaking wet by the time I put them in the wash.

And speaking of the bathroom.  Here we go again.  At least the place in Kotor had a shower curtain.  This shower area, despite the spa feel with the flooring and shelf of soaps and body wash, was completely open to the rest of the bathroom.  The washing machine was behind its own door but the rest of the bathroom was ripe for a soaking every time I took a shower. 

Sigh.

I ended up spending a great deal of time in that apartment as there was not much else to see in this part of Tivat.  The beach was only accessible after a long walk in the hot sun and navigating a bunch of sloping streets between apartment building.  The grocery store was close but not much else.

I did eat at a place called Restoran Picnic that did indeed have a picnic theme with its wooden chairs and tables covered in red and white checked tablecloths.  And no, the irony did not escape me of being a black American woman eating in a restaurant in Montenegro while listening to American soul music and recalling the origin of the word “picnic” (look it up in case you need a reminder that everything in the U.S. is based on racism).

Anywho, I got way too many bug bites while trying to work in a sloping apartment full of damp.  And, being on the ground floor, I had to contend with the host and his family constantly walking by my kitchen window because I couldn’t close the blinds

Eh.  I’ve stayed in worst places.

***

I still hate that YouTube shows too many commercials in this country.  But they also show local videos on occasion and I found one that I wasn’t rushing to skip through.  I have no idea what this guy is saying but I ain’t gonna lie -- I kinda dig it.  A little bit of Montenegrin flavor for you.

A Brief Stay in Risan

The week in Dobrota/Kotor went by quickly.  Wouldn’t miss the apartment, but getting work done on that balcony with that view … sigh.

But I would remain in the country.  The place has views for day so it was just time to find the next one.

Prices get weird for rentals this time of year.  It’s the high season with plenty of people flocking to the beaches and tourist traps.  The cheapest place I could find nearby was a good twenty minutes away by car.

Nearby Kotor was crawling with cabs so I figured it be easy to catch one even on this less traveled road.  I figured I could call one once I left the apartment.  Nope.  Despite having a local SIM card and calling a local number, I kept getting a recorded message saying that I didn’t have enough ‘points’ to make a call.  What does that even mean?

Sigh.  I’ve already mentioned how much trouble I’ve had getting a cab in this country.  Now without the option of calling one, I started walking towards Kotor and hoped to flag one down.  Twenty minutes later, hot and sweaty (again) a guy finally pulled over without me having to flag him down.  We were soon on our way – traveling back down the same road I’d just spent dragging all my crap in the hot sun.  Are we having fun yet?

Once again, there was only one road carved into the side to the mountain to get to the city of Risan.  Plenty of breathtaking views of the bay and the tiny islands that tourists could visit.  In no time, the driver said we’d arrived.  He pulled over into a gas station to get directions and after a brief detour to the local hospital, we managed to find the right place.

My host greeted me at the door and helped me get inside.  The rental appears to be a guest house behind a gate with a lovely courtyard separating it from the main house where the host lived. 

Another odd setup.  Not a studio but a kitchen/dining/living area smashed together with the bathroom off the large bedroom.  Definitely a better bathroom than the last place and the oven was much appreciated.

The host, who didn’t speak much English, let me know by phone that she would need my passport.  Not an unusual request and there are some hosts who need to take a picture.  She caught me off guard though by saying she’d need to take it for about 20 minutes to get it photocopied.  I was not comfortable with giving up my passport even for a minute but reluctantly agreed.  It’s not like I didn’t know where she lived.

I unpacked while she was away.  Once my doc was safely back in hand, I decided to explore the town.  But first I had to navigate my way down a Portugal-style hill to get to the main road.  I sighed knowing that going down that bad boy wasn’t the problem.  It was going back up, in a country-wide heatwave, while lugging groceries and water.  Wow.  Really looking forward to that.  Fortunately, Idea, one of the local grocery chains, is located at the base of the hill.

There’s not much to the town of Risan, just a few shops and restaurants with homes behind them and the bay in front.  Some ancient buildings are nestled in the nearby park.  There’s a couple of restaurants perched over the water and a decent sized beach located right next to them.

I spent the week amazed again about how little the Montenegrins paid attention to me as an outsider.  Like I said, the town is tiny.  Everybody knows each other and the place gets far fewer tourists than Kotor or Tivat.  And yet people barely noticed me.  I had one cashier at the grocery store ask me where I was from but that was pretty much it.  I do love that about the country.  I don’t expect to be embraced with open arms by any place but I do appreciate not being regarded like an alien.  They mind their business and so do I.

Mostly I think they just don’t have the energy to pay anyone any mind.  They have to save all their strength for going up that hill of 1,000 steps.

Kotor, Montenegro

 

Welp.  Time to leave yet another great apartment. 

I’m not even going to complain this time since it’s my fault I’m still nomadic.   The only reason I’m trying to spend three months in Montenegro is because I’m a chicken.  I had every intention of staying in Albania for a full year as you can do that with an American passport.  But … the logistics were freaking me out.  I want to get an apartment and a bank account and inform the government that I want to work remotely in the country.  I was afraid I was doing it wrong and wasn’t sure who to contact and argh.

I’m going to figure it out. Tons of people before me have done it so I know I can do it too.

In the meantime, it was the usual routine.  Get out of the apartment with all my stuff and after a quick breakfast, try to flag down a cab.  Uber still doesn’t exist in Montenegro and I haven’t figured out the bus system.  The buses are pretty slow and unreliable anyway, it’s hot in the country (not as hot as the rest of Europe, but still), and I just wanted to get the transfer done as quickly as possible.

Or not as the cabs repeatedly ignored me.  I got tired of waiting by the main road and decided to walk to the taxi stands that were in the center of town.  And boy, was that fun.  Sidewalks here are sporadic and sometimes badly damaged.  The heat was made even worse by the extra effort and my growing annoyance.  Several rest stops along the way and I kept getting ignored by cabs.

I finally walked the full mile to an official taxi stand, sweating bullets as my colder groceries melted through my trusty Pingo Doce bag, only to find the stand abandoned.  Yeah.  I don’t want to do this anymore.

A taxi did eventually appear and the guy agreed to take me the 10 or so miles to Kotor.  Now, much like in Tivat, there’s only one road in and out of Kotor.  So, as could be expected, traffic got increasingly heavier as we approached the city.  Even at noon on a Monday, it was bad.  I can’t imagine what rush hour looks like here (if there is such a thing).

We spent most of the time stuck in a dark tunnel just sitting.  When we exited and made our way through town, I quickly realized why the place is such a tourist draw.  This place is so gorgeous I can’t get over it.  And I thought Tivat was pretty with all the flowers and green everywhere and the mountains surrounding the bay.  But Kotor takes it to a whole new level.

My new home for the week wasn’t actually located in Kotor, but just past it in the city of Dobrota.  My cab driver had spoken directly to the host as the place is hard to get to and I’d soon find out why.  The host came to meet me and help me get all my crap down a steep, rocky driveway, down some ancient stone steps, and up even more stairs to get to the apartment.

And I understood why the place was so cheap.  I still do not like studios.  They’re too cramped and this place was no exception.  At least the other ones had a proper seating area and not just this one recliner.  But it was available and I wanted to visit other cities while in the country.

As for the bathroom … I think I’ve mentioned once or twice my many issues with European bathrooms.  But what in the bad design is this?

Why on earth would anyone think it was perfectly fine to have the entire bathroom be the shower?  Even with the curtain closed, the toilet is right next to the shower head.  It was a contortion trick just to keep the water from hitting it.  Just … why?

And because the window was open before I even got in the place (no screens, of course) I spent the week being dive-bombed by mosquitos.  Sigh.

But there was one big draw to the place.

On the balcony I shared with the British family that moved in about an hour after I did, was a table set up with a view of the bay framed with grape vines.  Gotta love Montenegro.

It was a long, hilly, scenic journey to the water, about a 10-minute trip.  Like Tivat, the shore is dotted with tiny beaches of various sizes with the biggest being the closest to the apartment.  Heading down the narrow one-way street that line the shore, there a couple of restaurants along with a small convenience store.

My first full day in the apartment I took a walk along the main street back towards Kotor.  It’s not the greatest walk in the world, more cracked sidewalks when there are sidewalks at all.  I got to a point where the sidewalk just disappeared and travelling along the busy road became increasingly dicey.  Fortunately, a lady was walking behind me and made a detour to the left behind a building.  Figuring she knew something I didn’t, I decided to follow.  Sure enough, the sidewalk continued behind the building and over a bridge beside the street.  In no time I was in Kotor proper after about a 1 ½ mile walk.

Restaurants, vendors, a great park, lots of vibrantly colored flowers and tourists for days.  The ancient part of the city, on the UNESCO world heritage list, sits behind these gates.

It reminded me of Budva with the same windy walkways through the shops and restaurants. 

After three years spent mostly in Europe, I have embraced the slower pace of life here.  Two-hour lunch breaks are awesome.  If you want to sit in a café for hours over a single cup of coffee, no one blinks.  The waitstaff won’t try to rush you off so they can get in more customers, they won’t pester you to buy more food.  They just leave you to stare at nothing if that’s what you feel like doing.  I very much love that.

But if I don’t work, I get no pay.  The last six months have felt completely consumed with my transcription job.  It’s frustrating and often upsetting as these are court cases where no one’s having any fun.  And it doesn't pay much.  But, after being so focused staring at a computer, maybe I can take a little bit of a vacation.  Radical concept but … Kotor is really pretty.

I took one day to go to the beach.  Bathing in the bay was so lovely I could imagine for a while that the world wasn’t falling apart.  Watching all the Montenegrin kids playing around me made me think of how awesome it must have been to grow up surrounded by all this beauty.  Sure, you’d have to deal with all the smelly tourists roaming around, but it seems a small price to pay to have access to the bay whenever you want.

A Few Notes on Tivat

 

Tivat is just as pretty as I remember.  When I visited it last in 2024 it was during a rainy autumn for a couple of weeks.  Now it’s spring and heading into summer and the entire city is in bloom.  Flowers everywhere, (mostly) sunny days, and the weather is still pretty mild because of the lovely mountains.  This is the view from my balcony.

As beautiful as it is here, I have to say that I do miss some things about Albania.  Montenegro still doesn’t carry my pills but I did buy enough to last while I was in Tirana.    Shopping options are greatly limited unless you can afford Fendi and Balenciaga.  Food is cheap, but I miss the beauty supply store for my haircare (not as many products in Tivat).  I really miss the lack of commercials on YouTube in Tirana.  It is beyond annoying to see so many A.I. generated ads promoting A.I.  It’s just an ouroboros of irritation and despair. 

And then there was the earthquake.

About a week and a half into my stay, I was sitting on the couch, working, when the entire apartment began to tremble.  I initially thought someone was driving by while playing their music too loudly.  Nope.  The very earth was shaking.  It only lasted a few seconds but still ...

I don’t like when the earth moves.  Makes me nervous.

Despite those issues, this is still a nice place.  I’d booked the apartment for a month, then extended it for another two weeks as it was available.  When I let the host know, she asked me if I needed anything.  I requested a new set of sheets whenever she had a minute.

She messaged me the next day saying she’d see me in an hour if traffic wasn’t too bad.  An hour? Tivat is a tiny town in a tiny country.  There is nowhere in the city that will take you an hour to get to, I don’t care how bad traffic is.

I told her not to go to the trouble, that I could just wash the sheets myself.  She said she had other business as well so she would see me.  Okay.

When she arrived, she quickly handed me the bag of linens.  Then she had handed me another bag while holding up her phone.  She doesn’t speak English so she had already typed out a note for me.  She owns a farm and the second bag was full of a huge bunch of gorgeous spring onions, some loose greens, and a dozen eggs. 

Nice!  Jadranka is vying to be one of my favorite hosts.  I’m a sucker for free food.

I’ve seen reports that a carton of eggs in the States has reached up to $20.  I can’t tell you how happy I was to get some free ones. 

Huh.  A white egg.  I remember those.  I think I prefer brown eggs now.  With the occasional feather on them.  Does that mean I’m European now?

I thanked her for the food but knew she couldn’t understand me (yet another time when I really wish I spoke a local language).  I made sure to send her a note through Airbnb.

In the first few days of June, I continued to enjoy the city when I started to notice something peculiar.  The place was suddenly crawling with cops.

I noticed the cop car blocking off my street when I went to the store one day and just brushed it off.  Venturing further into the city the next day in search of food (more on that later) I realized that the whole city was overrun by the boys in black.

It was eerily quiet on my walk to the café and it really struck me.  Cities aren’t loud – cars are loud.  That’s a sentiment borrowed from my favorite urban development YouTuber, Not Just Bikes.  Boy, was he right.  The only thing I heard on my walk was the chirping of birds and the occasional human voice.  Funny how your senses sharpen when they’re not being overloaded with noise pollution.

I walked to the local Ma Cherie, the only one I know of in the city though I’m very familiar with the chain as they are all over Tirana.  I chose this place because I kept seeing ads for Japanese pancakes.  I’d watched videos on how difficult it was to make them and finally decided to give them a try. 

While I waited for 25 minutes (Japanese pancakes are tricky even for people who know what they’re doing), I had an excellent view of a gaggle of cops on the nearby intersection.  They kept pedestrians off the main road to the bay while allowing black cars to travel along the route.  A very loud helicopter kept circling the area as I whipped out my phone to find out what was going on.  Turns out there’s a big summit being held in the city, hence the amped-up security on this sunny Friday morning.  Huh.

The pancakes were delicious.  A mix of mildly sweet pastry coupled with eggy goodness and savory bacon (and sour cream because the Montenegrins serve it with everything.  Good thing I love sour cream.)  And oh so jiggly!  I highly recommend.

Time to Leave the Country Again

 

I really enjoyed the apartment and if I were to return to Tivat, I could stay there again.  The only issue with the location is the access to taxis.  Occasionally, I’d see one coming into the block of apartments, but it was a coin toss if they were dropping off or picking up. To find an available one, I’d have to drag all my crap to the main road and hope for the best.

I’d managed to get to the road, but before I even had a change to flag someone down, a beat-up old car pulled up next to me.  A guy leaned out and asked if I needed a ride.  I said yes but … this did not look like a cab.  There was no signage anywhere or a meter that I could see.   I asked the price to go to Tivat Airport and he said 10 euros.  More than reasonable, but …

The dude got out to move a bunch of stuff around in the back seat just to get my bags inside.  With no other room in the back, I took shotgun while being wary the entire time.  It was a short trip to the airport but a long walk to the terminal.  The reason for that was the guy wasn’t allowed to drive up to the main gate.  So, nope.  Not an official cab.  But at least he got me there is one piece and didn’t try to gouge me (either literally or figuratively).

Once again, the travel gods are looking out for me even when I make some sketchy decisions.

While there were tons of folks hanging outside of the tiny airport, the inside was practically deserted.  There were few seats inside, which is why everyone was out front.  I joined them to wait for a good 45 minutes before check-in began.  Then it was off to wait some more to get to security.  Then it was more waiting for the flight to be called.

So, yeah.  It was a travel day.

Less than two hours later, I was back in Türkiye.  I just did my routine from two weeks earlier in reverse and cabbed it back to the same hotel I stayed in before.  The next morning, I had my last Turkish breakfast for a while 

then cabbed it back to Istanbul Airport for the big non-stop flight.

I do really like Turkish Airlines.  The food is good and the seats don’t numb the butt as much as some other airlines.  While I did have an aisle seat (not my preference), the middle seat remained empty.  The other single woman in the window seat agreed that we got lucky.

The flight was actually decent for being my umpteenth trip across the pond. Then it was the usual routine while back in the states.  I’d managed to book the Airbnb I’d had the last time for a couple of days. 

Seeing Trump 2024 signs on the way to the apartment was just depressing.  Being in the country is already a bummer.  I didn’t need more confirmation that I really don’t want to return to live in the U.S.

Amidst the other errands I had to run, I took full advantage of the tub and dyed my gray hair away.  That’s the one perk(?) of coming to the U.S.  It feels like a reset, a refresh before beginning the adventure again.  Except …

I had something of a moment in that apartment in Woodstock.  It was time to decide my next move and I was at a loss. My Schengen days had reset which was great.   I wanted to return to Portugal (shocker) but was still having a difficult time finding housing that didn’t break the bank.  I didn’t want to go anywhere else.  I didn’t want to get on another plane, but I definitely didn’t want to remain in the states.

I considered extending my stay just to give me more time to plan but the place was booked.   I was supposed to leave the country in the next few days and had no idea where I was going.

I felt a little lost and unwanted.  Not a good feeling.

Fortunately, it was brief.  I managed to find a new home for a week and make the arrangements to get there. 

Whew.

***

Ah.  Heathrow.

I’ve just now discovered (after more than a year of travel) that heading to London is a good, cheap way of getting out of the states.  You can get a non-stop flight to an airport that can connect you to anywhere in Europe.

The problem, as always, is security.

I had to retire my trusty carpet bag while in the states as it was getting really worn.  I replaced it with a small roller bag that can be used as a carryon.  It was an adjustment having two roller bags and trying to move them around (escalators are so much fun).  Easier on my shoulders, but still a challenge.  While checking the big bag into Vueling Airlines (a new one for me), the lady asked if she could also check in the little bag.  Hey, as long as there was no fee – sure.

And look at that.  With one less bag, getting through security should be a breeze, right?  There’s nothing in my computer bag and it has NEVER been flagged before.  Easy, yeah?

Sigh.

It got flagged.  My shoulders slumped as I walked over to the screening area.  After waiting for the previous person to get checked, I stepped up to the counter … only for the officer to leave the station.  Okay.  Is someone else coming for shift change or am I just going to stand here until I miss my flight?  There’s no reason for this in the first place.

Eventually, a woman showed up to do the screening.  She’s scanning, she’s taking stuff out, she scanning again and not finding anything.  But, she’s sure there’s something there.  I’m thinking if it’s taking this long to find something, maybe it’s not worth finding?  But still, she pressed on.

Turns out there was a tiny bottle of hand lotion, well under the 100 ml limit, that I had slipped into the bag and forgotten about.  And why wouldn’t I forget?  That thing has probably been in there for months and no other airport has cared.

But this was Heathrow.  The airport where any liquid passing through security is treated like an explosive.

After all that, she didn’t even throw the lotion away.  All that time and energy spent on nothing.

To say the least, I was a bit perturbed.

So much so that after I’d repacked all my crap and started hunting for my gate, my distress must have been visible.  I passed by a woman standing in front of her retail store.  She asked if I was okay.  Without stopping or so much as looking at her, I said “I will be.  Thanks for asking.”

Maybe Heathrow isn’t the best way to get out of the states.  For the sake of my blood pressure, I might need to avoid it in the future. 

A Day Trip to Budva

 

I saw as much of Tivat as I could between bouts of rain.  When the sky appeared to stay sunny one day, I figured it a good time to find my way out of town for the day.

Uber doesn’t exist in the area, so it’s best to catch the bus or a cab.  I flagged down a taxi on the main road and asked him to take me to Budva. 

I mentioned in my last post that the one major road was cut through the mountains.  Unsurprisingly, when there is construction on that single road, the traffic can get ridiculous. There were delays on both trips to Budva and I don’t envy anyone having to regularly take that road during the day.

While Tivat is this peaceful little town with a harbor full of yachts, Budva has more of a touristy party town vibe.  I remembered passing through the town on the way from the airport and the place was jumping well into the evening.

When the cab stopped, I thought we were just stuck in more traffic since I didn’t see any signage for the café.  But, no, the ride was over.  He gestured vaguely to the left, but since he only spoke Russian, I didn’t understand what he was saying.  I paid him and got on the good foot.

I’ve seen some comments online about people lamenting how much travel has changed in the last few decades.  That it was more of an adventure to find hidden gems without seeing them first on the internet, how you were forced to figure things out without Google translate and easy access to money.  I do understand what they mean – it was a different time.  Having said that, I would not give up having a living map on my phone for anything in the world. 

The GPS came to the rescue once again as the café was in Old Town, much of which is not accessible by car.  The narrow stone walkways through ancient buildings reminded me of Portugal and the maze of Mykonos at the same time.  It was full of shops and restaurants, hotels, and hostels with loads of tourists wandering around.

The café itself was just a store with no attached restaurant.  After buying my shirt, I found a place on the beach for lunch.  Just outside of Old Town is a boardwalk curving around the water.  Plenty of restaurants facing the boats for rent in the harbor.  I had a basic meal and a cosmo with a great view of the water. 

As per usual when visiting a place I like, I looked at pricing for apartments.  Depending on where you look, there are places as cheap as 380 euros for a one bedroom.  Two-bedrooms can be found for around 750 euros.  Of course, there are also plenty of luxury places for the billionaires and a lot of construction going on everywhere.  I’m not sure what the visa situation is looking like right now, but it might be worth a look.

Overall, I’m impressed with Montenegro.  I knew it would be pretty, but I didn’t expect it to be so affordable.  It even has a slight advantage over Türkiye as far as livability (Ah!  Sweet potatoes! Broccoli!  I missed you!).  The widely spoken English is a bonus.  But there are a couple of issues that I can’t overlook.

I checked a couple of pharmacies in Tivat and one in Budva for my pills, but it was a no go in both cities.  No immediate worries, though, since I’d already stocked up in Türkiye.  I just wanted to do a price comparison between countries.

While grocery stores and places of interest are in walking distance to my apartment in Tivat, getting out of the city does require a car.  There are buses, but their schedules are tricky.  Cabs, as I’ve mentioned, are not cheap.  There probably was another way to get around, but I just didn’t stumble on it.

It rains a lot.  I started my two weeks in the country wearing shorts and by the second week, I was in long pants.  The temperatures dropped fast in mid-September because of the rain.  But it keeps everything green and pretty so I can’t complain too much.

Also, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to mention this but, I did spot a rode by a dumpster one day.  This was near the harbor and the high-end shops, so I was a bit stunned.  Left me spooked for the rest of my stay.  And this was with all the stray cats and dogs around the area.

I had to leave for the states after my stay otherwise I would have liked to explore more of the country.  Dubrovnik, Croatia is right up the coast from Tivat so there is still much to see in the area.  I can see myself going back one day.

Tivat, Montenegro

The sun was setting as my flight landed in Podgorica (pronounced Po-go-rizza), Montenegro.  Then it was on to the usual routine of getting through passport control, gathering my bag, and finding a way to my new home for the week.

Just as quickly as I was able to check my bag with Air Montenegro, I sailed through passport control without even having to answer any questions.  Baggage Claim was a few short feet away and my bag was one of the first ones out.  So far, the country and I were getting along just fine.

Why choose Montenegro as my 12^th country on this journey?  A YouTuber I follow visited there and marveled at the beauty of the place.  I can stay for 90 days on a tourist visa and the flight took only 1 ½ hours from Istanbul.  The price of accommodations is about on par with Türkiye so I figured ‘Why not?’

Tip #1:  When visiting Montenegro, do not fly into Podgorica if you are staying in Tivat.  The city has its own airport.

I made this same mistake when travelling to the Big Island of Hawaii years ago.  I landed in what I thought was the only airport, but ended up on the wrong side of the island.  That meant a stupidly long drive while exhausted, at night, in a strange car, on a road that was only partially paved – in the rain.  I really don’t recommend EVER doing this.

In this case, landing at the wrong airport meant a stupidly long ride in the back of an expensive cab driven by another madman.  The road to Tivat is cut through the mountains and is the only way to go between the two locations.  This meant a lot of roundabouts, hairpin turns, and some admittedly stunning views of the cities in the valleys below, all done at breakneck speed. 

Seriously, Google maps had the journey taking two hours.  Dude got me there with half an hour to spare.

But I did just come from Türkiye.  I was more than accustomed to crazy cab drivers.

As we drove through small patches of civilization along the way, I kept noticing the number of people just walking along the roads.  Even in the areas that weren’t brightly lit and obviously commercial, there were pedestrians everywhere.  I asked the cabbie if that was normal, that it was safe to walk at night.  He assured me the place was pretty safe, no worries while I was here.  I have rarely been out at night in any of the countries I’ve visited, but it’s always good to know I won’t be a target as a tourist.

We finally arrived at Tivat and it came time to pay.  I had asked before getting in the cab if he accepted cards since I mostly had Turkish money on me.  I handed over my card – and it didn’t work.  Gave him another card which did work except the card machine asked for a PIN.  It was a credit card.  I had no idea what the pin was as I never used it for ATM withdrawals.  The other credit card had the same outcome.  So, none of my cards worked, I was in a strange country where I had no money, and I owed this dude 80 euros.

This was a nightmare.

After fumbling with all the cards multiple times and checking with my bank to make sure I had set a travel alert (I had), I finally asked the guy to take me to the nearest ATM.  I sat on pins and needles until we found a place, then got out and put my card in.

Can I tell you how sweet it was to hear the ATM counting out the money?  Huge sigh of relief along with a huge tip for the guy for his patience (that and the machine only gave out 20’s so I couldn’t give him anything smaller).

He drove me back to the apartment and deposited my bag in front of the door.  Even after getting paid, the sweet man was apologizing for the machine not working.  I told him I was just happy that my card worked and I could pay him.  I was seriously freaking out for a minute there.

Then it was on to the task of checking my phone for the front door code, wrangling my stuff onto the elevator, trying to figure out the light switches, and finding the apartment.  Outside of both my new home and the apartment across the hall were buckets full of umbrellas – not a good sign.  I didn’t want to spend the next week indoors because of the rain. 

The key was located in what the host referred to as an ‘acid box’.  What the hell does that mean?  I fumbled a bit with the electrical boxes on the wall until I figured out that she was referring to the umbrella bucket.  Is there acid in the rain?  Is that why it’s called that or does that just mean something different in the native language?  I don’t know.

All I knew was that I was wiped.  I took some time to admire the nicely appointed apartment, then took my happy behind to bed.

Thunderstorms woke me up the next morning, but the rain didn’t last too long.  Then it was off to explore.

Montenegro is a small country of about ½ million people, known for its coastal towns, several world heritage sites, and stunning natural beauty.  The currency is the euro while the language … is different.  I always thought, because of the name, that it would be a Spanish speaking country, but no.  Technically, the country has their own language called Montenegrin, but Google Translate doesn’t recognize that language.  The closest approximation is Serbian.  Montenegro is kind of an off-shoot of Serbia and Bosnia Herzegovina so I think their language is something of a hybrid dialect. Fortunately …

Tip #2:  English is widely spoken in the country.

I’m always appreciative when someone (somehow) spots that I’m not a native-born Montenegrin and instantly switches to English. I am also still impressed at how easy that is for some folks.

While there are tourists from various countries wandering around, I was only one of three or four black people in the entire town.  No one stared at me like a zoo animal, though.  Actually, I got more stares in Istanbul than in Tivat.

(And I must apologize to the Montenegrin people – I will not be learning your language.  I got too much Portuguese and Turkish swirling around in my brain and there’s only so much I can absorb.  I can do ‘da’ for yes and cao (ciao like in Italy) for hello/goodbye, but that’s about it.)

Tip #3:  Tipping in restaurants is not expected, though it is appreciated. 

Additionally, the waitstaff give you the bill at the beginning of the meal.  It’s not like they are trying to get rid of you – they have the same laid-back attitude of the Turks.  If you do decide to order more, they will just print out another receipt.

And why wouldn’t you order more?  Prices for restaurants and grocery stores is pretty cheap.  Being able to go to a sit-down lunch, have a nice meal and maybe a cappuccino afterwards, and get change from my 20?  Awesome.  It’s not Turkish levels of cheap, but I’ll take it.  This is coming directly after paying over 20 euros for a meal at Burger King in Istanbul Airport.  I know airports markup their food, but that is ridiculous.  I don’t know how anyone is affording anything in the U.S. when fast food costs this much.

Yet in this cheap, beautiful country, the wealthy seem to gather.  Tivat is touted as the Monaco of the country because of all the high-end shops and extensive port. 

Oh.  Excuse me while I dock my yacht in Montenegro.

And I think this beast is actually a private vessel.  Holy crap!

The place is peaceful, nestled between the mountains and the Bay of Kotor.  I wouldn’t describe Antalya that way even with the mountains and ocean.  There’s just something about this place.