BAR AND BACK HOME - MONTENEGRO

12th - 16th May 2019

Church of St Jovan Vladimir. Bar.

The bus station in Budva is a) very smart with a good restaurant and shops and b) conveniently close to where I was staying. And the bus was on time! The ride down the coast was scenic and it took about 1½ hours to reach the town of Bar arriving at mid-day. Now, Bar is not exactly a tourist hot-spot. It is a transport hub with the bus and railway stations almost co-located to the south of the town. There is a large harbour, a marina and naval dockyard off the centre. Ferries come in from Italy and many private yachts visit (although I can't think why). There are apparently some interesting sights in the ancient village of Stari Bar to the east in the mountain foothills (not suitable for wheelchairs my book made clear). I didn't go there as I was only due to be here overnight, and it rained most of the time. As usual I hadn't booked a hotel but was told of a place at the northern end of the town (about 3kms away) that might be suitable. I took a taxi (something I always try to avoid, but it was raining) to a little place called Villa Jadran. The taxi was  incredibly cheap, the driver charming and the hotel was magic! 20 Euros for the night for a comfortable room with all mod-cons including a large TV with Western channels, plus breakfast. The proprietor and his wife were incredibly hospitable. I don't suppose they get many tourists. Despite the grimy weather I then took a wander around town.

Left: There is the 'town beach' north of the marina. This is not exactly the Costa del Sol, with a rubbish strewn pebble 'beach' which was entirely deserted except for a couple of mangy dogs sniffing around. I believe there are some pleasant beaches further north, including a nudist one. This was not the weather for even the hardiest of nudists I suspect.

Right: At the back of this 'beach' was a rather uninspiring (deserted) café outside which was a small play area for the kiddies. It had the benefit of being enclosed in a cage which could be locked to keep the little darlings happily and safely imprisoned while their parents enjoyed themselves. What a brilliant idea.

Left: In between the marina and ferry terminal is the naval dockyard. Several rather rusty warships of the Montenegrin Navy were moored here. For all I know it could have been the entire Montenegrin Navy.

I called in at a couple of bar/restaurants. They were very pleasant and I had a good meal in one (The Green Mill if you're interested). One of the things I like about these out of the way places is that they can make up their own rules and are relatively free from draconian 'elf 'n safety'
regulations. In one of these restaurants you could smoke if you wished (not that I do) and the other has a strict smoking ban. The voluntary wearing of crash hats on motorbikes was apparent. I know some will disagree with me, but I enjoy the freedom to make my own decisions on 'elf 'n safety' matters.

Right: I passed this amusing 'novelty' shop. Some extraordinary fancy-dress outfits were on display. I wondered who their customers are.

Possibly due to the inclement weather the town was remarkably free of traffic and pedestrians. I suspect it never gets crowded which might explain why the people I did meet were so charming, smiley and helpful. There is a large and well stocked supermarket in the centre (left). I stocked up there with rations for my journey the next day.

The main reason I came to Bar was to get the train to Belgrade. The next morning, after breakfast, it was still drizzling and the helpful hotel boss (Barco) offered to give me and another Brit who happened to be there, a lift up to the station. Most generous of him and I doubt you would get that hospitality from many UK hotel managements. Thanks Barco!
The Bar-Belgrade train is advertised as one of the great train journeys in the world. It was a pity the weather was so inclement, but I couldn't do much about that. We set off at 9.00am, with not many other passengers, and initially the going was relatively flat. The tastefully graffitied train (right) was also one of the slowest I have been on and had no catering facilities, but I was well stocked up and prepared for this. This journey was not covered by my Interrail card, but only cost 24 Euros for what turned out to be an 11 hour trip.
Then up into the hills, across the end of the vast Lake Skadar and through Podgorica, the Capital. Podgorica appeared to be a rather dull low-rise sprawl with lots of building work in evidence. It had not been recommended as a place to visit (not much to see or do there) and perhaps I could see why. After that the going got mountainous with spectacularly vertiginous drops to the side of the track. I had been advised to sit on the left side for the most dramatic views and it was certainly not suitable for those who suffer from vertigo.

The weather wasn't great and the windows were speckled with rain and so although I could get a decent view it was not conducive to my poor efforts at photography. In any event, photos cannot really capture the depth and scope of the scenery. They turn out rather flat and give little impression of the scale of the vast drops down and the enormous valleys.

We passed over countless high viaducts and through numerous tunnels. There are, according to my book, 435 bridges and 254 tunnels. I didn't bother to count. One of the viaducts, the Mala Rijeka bridge at 500m long and 200m high was, until 2001, the highest railway bridge in the world. Right: I'm not sure if this is the one as there were several with dizzying drops. This railway is another miracle of engineering which was started in the 1950s and finally opened full length (480km) by President Tito who cut the ribbon in 1976. He was a great fan of this line and had his own luxurious train built with sumptuous bedrooms and furniture including a full-sized bath. Ours was not so grand. 

There were only 4 other passengers in my carriage; two of whom were a couple of rather tarty and hysterical young ladies who spent most of the trip shrieking with laughter and chatting up the guard/conductor who, as he had little else to do, reciprocated. At one point he and one of the girls disappeared into a nether part of the train possibly to discuss the timetable and enjoy the view in private. I was informed previously that due to the lack of dining facilities on this long journey it is common practice for passengers to bring on board over-stocked hampers and bottles of booze to share out in a 'truly party' fashion. I saw no evidence of this and was quite content to stick to my own (extensive) ration pack.

I think we crossed the border into Serbia at a place called Vrbnica where, at the Serbian side, the rather dour and bolshy Serb customs man took away my passport. I had visions of it not being returned. It was a long static wait, but eventually I got it back and we proceeded, slowly, towards Belgrade (or Beograd as it is called there).

Left and below: I attach a few poor grainy photos, due to weather and a shaky hand, of the views which don't do justice to what you could actually see.

There are lots of little villages hidden away in these valleys. It brought to mind the problems any army might have 'occupying' or fighting in this terrain as exemplified by the guerilla warfare in WW2 or more recently in the 1990s. A complete nightmare!

As the terrain flattened out on approach to Belgrade we passed through several villages. Nearly all the houses looked very similar with white walls and red tiled roofs. Some construction company must have collared the market.

We pulled into a fairly nondescript barely lit station at 8.15pm. I sat and waited to move on but was told "this is Belgrade". "What?!" I thought. I asked where were the buildings. "Ah", someone said, "the Belgrade central station has been closed and this is where you get off". Nobody had warned me about this. On the platform there was noone to help and I met three other 'foreign' passengers equally confused. We thought there might be a bus, and there was, but nobody could tell us where it was going. As it turned out we should have got on it as it was a free transfer to the city centre. So, the four of us got a waiting taxi which, for 15 Euros, took us to the city about 15 minutes away. Actually the currency in Serbia is the Dinar, but our driver was more than keen to accept Euros. 

I found a hotel near the ex-central station which turned out to be rather pleasant and not too expensive. It's called Hotel Queens Astonia should you be looking for somewhere to stay in central Belgrade.

The next morning I was due to get the train to Zagreb (Croatia). I went to the nearby ex-central station, which was deserted, but there is a bus station adjacent, to get advice on how to get to the out of town station. I found, unlike the other places I had visited, that nobody spoke English (why should they?). It's all in Cyrillic here, and they all seemed rather unfriendly. Is this a Serbian characteristic? Fortunately, and time was running short, I found a young girl student who could speak English and fortuitously was going to the station. She was very charming and helpful and guided me to the correct bus. Phew!

The out of town station is new, modern and much larger than I had appreciated from my visit the previous night, but there was a total lack of signage. After great difficulty I found a ticket office. This time my interrail pass worked (but with a small extra supplement). 

The 10.35am train was a weedy looking three carriage affair, plus mandatory graffiti, and was due to take 8 hours to get to Zagreb. It's not that far! The trouble was that in Serbia it only reached a max speed of about 20mph! Very frustrating and I couldn't work out why.

After crossing the border into Croatia, with more tediously long customs checks, the train speeded up to normal train velocity. There must be some sort of speed restriction in Serbia.

Right: A Croatian Station Master. Very smartly turned out with impeccable flag waving and whistle drills.

I arrived in Zagreb at 6.15pm and being only there for a night didn't have time to explore, but again found a very pleasant 'apartment' within walking distance from the station (30 Euros). Zagreb looks a much more interesting place than Belgrade with lots of sights to see and many museums with some very pleasant bars and restaurants. I would have stayed here longer but unfortunately had a deadline to get back to UK by the 17th. Zagreb, and other places down this part of the world i.e. Albania, Kosovo, Bosnia Herzogovena, Macedonia, are definitely worth another visit.

So, the next morning at 7.00am, in a comfortable 'compartment' train, all on Interrail, on via Ljubljana, Villack, and Salzburg to Frankfurt. Something peculiar happened in Villack which is on the border of Slovenia and Austria. The train travelling, correctly, north, pulled in at the station and coupled up with additional carriages (one of which was an excellent dining car as it transpired). I was facing the direction of travel (north). It then reversed out of the station, only a few hundred yards, ie. going south. It then pulled back into the station the way it had come from. After a while it then set off backwards again with me facing away from the direction of travel, so I assumed we were going south. It kept on going and never seemed to make any U turns, or any turns. I had the horrible feeling it was going back south to Ljubljana. I tried to work out our direction of travel using the sun, but that was a bit vague due to there not being much sun. I was convinced that we were going south. As it turned out we were indeed going north. I still haven't worked that out, despite trying to draw diagrams. How was I facing one way going north and then the other way going north without the train seemingly to have turned around? I'm sure my technical adviser will have an explanation.

Arriving at Frankfurt at 8.00pm (it had been a 13 hour, but comfortable, journey) I was forced to stay in a vastly over-priced hotel near the station. I had tried to find somewhere cheap, but failed. Apparently Frankfurt was host to some exhibitions and trade fairs and everywhere was booked up and so exhorbitant robber rates were being charged at even the most average places.

One of the sights that greeted me on arrival in this affluent city, and especially around the railway station, was the number of (mainly black) beggars and vagrants; some seemingly rather crazy (drugs?). It then struck me that, for whatever reason, I had not seen a single black face, or indeed a beggar, in either Slovenia, Croatia, Montenegro or Serbia. Why? I hope that doesn't sound 'racist' in these politically sensitive times; I am merely stating a fact.

The next morning, the 16th, back to Brussels Midi on the smart, speedy and comfortable ICE train. I had intended, using my Interrail pass, to get a cheap Eurostar ticket back to London. I had tried the previous evening to make a reservation, by internet, with Interrail, as I had from UK when the supplement cost was only 36 Euros, but was informed there were no seats available. I went to the ticket office and asked what was going on. The very polite lady told me that the Interrail system only has a limited number of seats for sale. There were none left for any of today's trains. What a rip-off! I asked what the cost of a 2nd Class Eurostar ticket to London was if I paid on the spot here. She said 240 Euros. I thought she was joking! That's not a rip-off, it's Grand Larceny! "But", she said, "I can suggest an alternative". This was to take the bus and it only costs 16 Euros from just outside the station here on Rue de France to London Victoria. It's a 7 hour journey, so if you get the 1.00pm bus you will be in Victoria Station at 7.00pm UK time. It was a no-brainer so, I did. I even had time for a pleasant lunch before departure. Again, outside the station here was a considerable number of black  men just, seemingly, hanging around or sitting on the low walls. They looked a bit shifty in their 'hoodies' and I couldn't work out what they were about. I'm sure my research team will find out and let me know.
In fact it was a pleasant bus trip. A comfortable bus, stopping for a coffee and loo break somewhere on the road to Calais, and without any hassle or delays, we arrived in Calais harbour. Then quick passport checks, bus onto the Channel Tunnel train and via Folkestone through the ghastly, grotty, 3rd World South London suburbs (what impression does that give to visiting foreigners?) to Victoria....arriving early at 6.30pm local time. Magic. I was home at 9.00pm.

So, that was my trip around some of the Balkans and it was all most enjoyable and educational. Recommended.