Utjeha - Montenegro

Another brilliant blue sky awaits, I wonder if today is going to be my last day in Montenegro. Midday comes and goes. This means I will be staying for one more evening at least.

I’m lying on the beach, soaking up the sun, when the campsite manager gets my attention. This surely is it! The long-awaited letter from the folks. One look and I know it is from my mum. If the handwriting hadn’t given it away, then the copious amounts of Sellotape, which I am sure weighs the same as the envelope, would have.

It’s the documents setting me free! Not that I feel I have been kept a prisoner in Bar. In fact, the longer I stay, the more charm the place has. Sticking my head out of the tent, looking down the drive and seeing the great blue sea staring back at me gives a good feeling. So does swimming in crystal-clear water, being able to see curious fish swimming up and investigating what I am doing in their space.

In all honesty it is hard to fault Utjeha in Bar. I suppose the biggest gripe would be with the nightclub which woke me early on Sunday. The music was so loud it was like you were at the party without being inside the four walls, and in my case, without any clothes on. Needless to say, it was only a matter of time before I had a whiskey in my hand. Long enough, you’ll be pleased to know, to don some clothes.

Also staying on the grounds is a Serbian girl. Her family has been staying here for 15 years. Her English is very good, but because mine isn’t conversation doesn’t flow as much as I would like. Using as much tact as I can muster I ask about the events leading up to and including 1999, and the subsequent independence of Montenegro and Kosovo. Nevena lives in Belgrade and was 10 when NATO took the decision to systematically bomb her city. She tells me a house in her street felt the impact as a bomb decimated it and its contents. I think back to when I was 10. My biggest fear was which girl would catch me when playing kiss chase. Hardly had the same consequences!

I mention that I was going to go to Belgrade in between Sarajevo and Dubrovnik but chose not to. Nevena looks at me gone out and stresses that I must go. She even offers to help plan my stay while I am there. So I loosely say I will be there in the new year, fingers permitting. It will be nice to have a familiar face to highlight and recommend places to see in their home town.

Watching another attractive sunset slowly disappear makes me feel sad to be leaving Montenegro, after all I have been here eight (osam) days, my longest stretch so far. On the positive I am leaving the second newest European county and heading into the newest. Kosovo here I come.