Albania Border

It’s the 30 percent of pleasure, which seems like a 100 percent - that’s what makes me love travel. I can then forget about the 70 percent of torture. All I need for an attitude adjustment is a hike and in this case it was a hike up to this castle in Kotor. After that everything was fine.


Sometimes decisions are made for you. I had planned on going on 
down to Albania. I wanted to take the scenic southern coastal route but last 
year the border wasn't open there. Supposedly it was now. The 
northern route passed through an uninteresting city. But from that 
city I could make a choice: either I go to the mountains to the north 
or Albania to the south.


When I got to the bus station at 7 am the bus going the northern route to Podgorica was pulling up. A pit of a city, from what I heard, but the one with two choices. I was afraid to chance the southern route, so I hopped on.

A couple of hours later I was in Podgorica and the taxi drivers immediately swarmed around me, "Taxi, taxi, taxi" Even when I said no emphatically.

I asked the reservationist what time the bus to Durimtor, the national park, left.” In four hours”, he said.

"Taxi, taxi, taxi" the drivers kept calling. I don't want to be in this station for four hours and have to listen to that.

"What time does the bus to Albania leave?"

"There's no bus to Albania. You have to take a taxi to the border." I turned and a taxi driver with no teeth gave me a big grin.

"Aren't you happy? Well, not so quick buddy." I smirked.

The taxi ride to the border is 20 euros (about $23). I am not going to go to the border then have to take another Albanian taxi ride to the next closest town, if even.

Thinking is hard when I’m pressured. "What time does the bus to Niksic leave?"

"In five minutes." Niksic is a city on the way to Durmitor. I might have to wait for the same bus that will leave here in four hours, but at least I won't be surrounded by taxi drivers. I jump on.


About an hour later and not half way we are in Niksic. Brother, is 
this podunk! No one speaks English, although basically no one in Podgorica did either. Montenegro uses the Cyrillic alphabet, so I can't makes sense of any words.


I thought I would use the toilet. I don't mind the Indonesian squat style but this one was disgustingly dirty. Two Roma children sat out front wanting money to use it. I was not that desperate and if I was I'd go behind anything else. I scanned the area for a substitution.


In the restaurant no one knew what I was saying. Fortunately, my 
guide book had Durmitor written in Cyrillic so they knew where I 
wanted to go. There was a mini bus leaving in 15 minutes. Great! I wouldn't have to wait for the the bus coming from Podgorica.

Okay 15 minutes - I had time for a coffee. But every time I said anything the waiter held up a beer. No, I didn't want a beer. When I pointed to a man with coffee, the waiter still held up a beer. Finally, I got a coffee. It looked like mud and tasted worst.

"Aye Yi Yi!" I made a face "This will keep me up for a week!" I asked for 
sugar, and the waiter held up a beer. I made a face every time I 
took a sip and this was all very funny.


Then we were off. There were four passengers. On the way a few got on and a few got off. The driver also picked up a carton of 
cigarettes on the way. He kept looking at them. Amazingly, no one 
smoked. It was a very winding road. I wasn't sick but this time I had a plastic bag - just in case. On that last mountain trip, when I thought I might throw up, I didn't have one. I will not be without a plastic bag again.


I was fine but an old lady threw up. She had a plastic bag. She was mad at the driver because from what I gathered we were taking a detour and this road was rougher and had even more twists. Well, it was a detour. The driver stopped by the side of the road and gave this woman the carton of cigs. No money was exchanged. We went on and then this teenage kid threw up. He threw up right behind the driver and he had no plastic bag. I was glad I was sitting by the window and I got a lot of air.

At last we got to Durmitor. 
The mountains were just what I needed. I have so many pictures of 
mountains if you shuttled them I probably couldn't tell which one it 
was. After hiking for four days I was ready to leave.


I got a ride with two Norwegians, who had a rented car, to the larger 
town of Mojkovac. They would go south from there and I would get a direct bus to Nis, where I could see the remaining 58 of 982 Serbian heads that the Turks scalped and embedded in a monument. The Turks did this to show their victory two hundred years ago. (Oh those nice Turks!) Nis was also not far from the Bulgarian border. I was by passing Albanian for now.


Everything was fine until once we were in Mojkovac I learned that the bus to Nis would not leave for another four hours. It would take at least another five to get there. It was 2:30 then. I decided to stay in Mojkovac and take the bus that left the next morning at 9 am. But there was one problem. There were no hotels or private rooms in town. There was one hotel 4km away. The Norwegians drove me there.

If it weren't for them I would have stayed at that bus station and waited. I was so glad I didn't have to. I loved this hotel. Beautiful setting, great food – it was a place where the locals went for a special occasion, but really inexpensive for me. It cost me 10 euros for one of the best rooms I've ever had and I'm treated like a queen. I walked around the bucolic countryside and bought wild strawberries from some children. I was pretty happy.


The next morning an employee drove me to town to catch the bus 
to Nis. The bus route followed a canyon most of the way. It also 
followed the border of Kosovo, which I was not allowed to enter. The bus was stopped by Serbian police a couple of times. Other than that, it was a comfortable bus ride with few people. I sat on one side and then the other depending on the view, which was spectacular.