Crazy Driving, Canyon Rafting & “Group Sex"
Trip Start
Jun 22, 2010
1
32
50
Trip End
Oct 15, 2010
Zabljak, Durmitor National Park, Montenegro
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Following the Bay of Kotor our goal was
to head up north towards Durmitor National Park. This would involve a
200km drive without our dear friend Tom Tom (who has nothing south of
Croatia…..). We were relying on the “road map” we brought from
the border for the princely sum of 3€.
We set off nice and early. After about
an hour of driving (and seeing about 2 cars – albeit ones that
tooted loudly at us and overtook at ungodly speed) we came to a
village*. There was a long row of cars on the right hand “curb”,
it was a bit strange but we carried on and went to turn the corner
towards Niskic. There was a policeman. He spoke no English but we
suddenly gathered that all those cars were actually in a queue
waiting for the corner and we had tried to jump it (how very
un-British of Dan!). We waited in this queue not knowing why the road
was blocked.
After 40 mins all the cars were allowed
to enter. After about 5 minutes we came to some “road works”.
This required Dan to manoeuvre Big Bluey across large stones and
rocks as if in a 4WD race. The hairiest moment came when a large
petrol tanker came towards on this same gravel track and some tight
squeezing had to take place.
The “road map” didn’t seem to
have any of the smaller towns we passed on it, in fact I think they
just made them up and added on the main towns.
Needless to say, the scenery was
spectacular and if you like the following obstacles – narrow gravel
roads, frequent oncoming vehicle (mostly trucks, they give Polish
drivers a run for their money), large sharp rocks in the middle of
the road, loud unexplained horn tooting and cows grazing in the
middle of the “highway” then you will love driving in Montenegro!
We made it to Zablijak (a town in the
heart of the national park) around 4pm and found the campsite. I was
overwhelmed with delight at the sight of flushing toilets (I was
still haunted by the squat ones from Morinj). It was a very
picturesque spot and the campsite had a nice feel to it – basic but
homely with some benches right near us and a campfire set up. We
decided to do a short walk to the Black Lake – it was gorgeous and
there was nobody around. It was hard to believe that something that
could be such a tourist attraction was so devoid of commercialism.
One of the “big” tourist
attractions of Montenegro is rafting down the Tara Canyon. This is
one of the reasons we had come up to the park. We organised with one
of the campsite assistants (an Igor-like character) to go rafting the
next day and we were to be picked up at 9.30am.
We declined the campfire shenanigans
for that night and played some cards then had an early night –
eager to bright and cheerful for the rafting trip. Next morning I
dragged Dan out of bed and we were ready for the trip at 9.30am. By
10am I sent Dan to find the camp guy who arranged it. No luck. At
10.30am still no minivan. I sent Dan again. No camping guy. He did
find the older camp guy’s wife who said that the minivan would have
come by now so it must not be coming. I was pretty upset, I had been
anticipating this trip and got myself all excited about it. We
decided to head into town and book through one of the tourist
agencies maybe for something later that day. The tourist agency lady
said that no tours ran in the afternoon because the canyon only had
sun in the morning. Dammit, this meant we had to stay another night
if we wanted to go rafting. We booked it and decided to drive to the
rafting venue so we could set off down south straight after. Still
slightly angry we did some internet stuff (at a hairdressers….weird)
and then I decided it was time to cheer up with some lunch. I had a
hankering for a sandwich. We went to a little terraced restaurant. I
looked at the menu. There were no sandwiches but it did say hamburger
so I thought that would do. I ordered one and a salad as Dan ordered
some stuffed meatballs. I was starving. After about 10 minutes our
meals came out. I looked at my two small plates. On one was my
“salad” – three large slices of tomato and some sliced
cucumber. On the other was a meat pattie. Errr…. I didn’t think
this joint was going to put McDonalds out of business anytime soon.
Full of “hamburger” and meatballs
(which actually turned out to be meatstrips with cheese) we headed
back to the campsite and decided to do a walk for 3 hours.
About 1 hour into the walk there was a
track running alongside a small road. Dan was walking on the road and
he tripped. I not very graciously laughed at him. Ten seconds later I
tripped but as my shoes had no grip I skidded down this gravelly hill
on my side. Ouch. Oh my, it just wasn’t my day.
That night we cycled into town to get
some dinner. We went to a local restaurant and Dan ordered some
Durmitor cheese to start and a Durmitor steak. The cheese was kind of
strange – kinda like a less salty dry feta. The steak turned out to
be steak stuffed with more Durmitor cheese and crumbed. Dan was
cheesed out but the end of it.
That night we decided to join the
campfire with beer and marshmallows in tow. Igor and the camp-owner
were there plying some young Scottish girls with plum brandy. The
camp owner was friendly (and harmless) little sex pest. He looked a
bit like a caricature of a cheeky Mexican – old, short, skinny with
a brown face, grey hair, large grey moustache and huge gappy grin. He
called me “laydee,laydee”. He didn’t call Dan anything – he
didn’t talk to the guys. He came over and told us that the rafting
mixup was his fault. His apology involved a large sloppy kiss on my
cheek and some butt groping. He didn’t speak much English with the
exception of two English words repeatedly (and hopefully) exclaimed
to all campers - “group sex”. There were no takers. He then in
a roundabouts way told everyone that life was about two things –
drink and sex. It was clear he had quite a bit of the former but
wasn’t likely to get much of the latter. Meanwhile Igor has
cornered one of the Scottish girls and trying to assess whether she
is either good wife material or just willing to sleep with him. I am
starting to understand why there is the nightly campfire…..It was a
good laugh even if it did mean I had to stomach yet another shot of
“grappa-like” spirit!
The next day we were driving to the
rafting venue by the Tara bridge. As we came up over the hill there
was a large amount of smoke billowing out from the mountains. Yikes,
a forest fire and we were driving in that direction. We were fated
never to raft the Tara Canyon?
We arrived at the venue and it turns
out the Montenegrins (and Dan) weren’t particularly concerned about
the ensuing forest fire. The rafting was on.
The rafters didn’t speak much English
but we were herded into a van with two other couples. We got to the
river and the “rafting guide” grunted then motioned for us to
head down to the river. We climbed on the raft and began drifting
down the river. The rafting guide spoke little English. His two top
words were “everybody” and “stop stop” in order to instruct
our paddling. He attempted to give a mini tour which consisted of the
bridge (which we could see), a river (which we were on) and then “my
house”. There were a few nice rapids but generally it was pretty
tame (even for me!) The views were nice and it was good to dangle
your feet over the raft.
We were only doing the half day trip
(which was quite good as my legs were a bit cramped) and so we
headed back to the base for lunch. Lunch was trout with vegetables
which was very tasty. The forest fire was closer but Big Bluey was
still there, unscathed. Phew.
We set off on the road towards Lovcen
National Park. Our destination - a mausoleum at the top of a mountain
recommended to us by an English couple staying at the campsite. Now
we just have to find campsite…..
*3-5 houses in a row and a kiosk that
sells drinks (mostly beer)
Comments
I too was caught out by the burger less hamburger in South America more than once. 'Carne con pan?' was quickly added to the ordering repertoire accompanied by sandwiching gestures.