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 the 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 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.