Today was a beautiful cruisy day. We started slow and lazy and when we were finally on our way out of town we discovered the Kangaroo Motel (check out the name of the boat behind Ben), with its hot chocolate as thick as the dirt it grew in and wireless galore.Of course we couldn't resist!
Still, we were on the road before midday and spent the day winding steadily upwards around the coast, the mountains and the blue water with us all day, the sunshine a shimmering pathway all the
way to Italy.The first two hours were wonderful – the traffic was so slow I wondered if someone had died. And then, well, it was business as usual for the invincible on the narrow roads of Crne Gore.
We have wondered, with our simple western minds, what Montenegro means – black mountain being our obvious port of reckoning. Which begs the question . . . which mountain? On our first evening in the country, as we walked into Herceg Novi, to our right was a magnificent stretch of mountain rock lit by . . . the settlement lights? . . . a dying moon? . . . it was a great transparent monolith streaked sideways with transluscence . . . it was not of this world.
And then, the following day, as we walked to the ferry, we were startled by red fire on the not-so-distant mountain tops, like flaming lava flowing down the rock. And that was on a dark and cloudy day. Rock or foliage? I’m still not sure. We could only imagine what it might look like lit by the sun.
Whatever Montenegro means, they got the Monte bit right.
We left the spotted mountains of Croatia behind at the border. The mountains here in Crne Gore are more ragged and rugged and there’s more of them, leaving even less land between them and the sea.Resting beside the road today, high over Adriatica’s darker shore,
we were again amongst olive groves, these ones as old as an olive grove might be. They’ve been missing from our lives these past days.Round the bend a church steeple, a little rounder on the top. Ben’s coffee is now froth-free . . . we are slowly, imperceptibly had we not walked this land step by step, moving closer to ‘the east’ . . . or perhaps the east has come for us.
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