Kellen Smetana
Camel herders aside, passing time in the endless Central Asian deserts for any normal person will add even the slightest bit more appreciation for the cool, charming sensation of rolling down a coastal road. After crossing the Caspian, bathing, battling, and beholding the Black, and grazing the Aegean, I was again ready to bask in the azure atmosphere of the sea and take on the mighty Adriatic. As Megan noted in the last entry, I “love hills”; and I have been working on bringing Bill and Megan over to my school of thought. Most of these coastal roads follow natural seaside cliffs, crest above finger-like rock outcroppings, wind around the occasional promontory, and bound down into a quaint beach town before rising precipitously to start the whole process over again. The Adriatic coast of Montenegro and Croatia has provided much of these same hilly roads and I think it’s slowly starting to win over Bill and Megan on this hills business.
Camel herders aside, passing time in the endless Central Asian deserts for any normal person will add even the slightest bit more appreciation for the cool, charming sensation of rolling down a coastal road. After crossing the Caspian, bathing, battling, and beholding the Black, and grazing the Aegean, I was again ready to bask in the azure atmosphere of the sea and take on the mighty Adriatic. As Megan noted in the last entry, I “love hills”; and I have been working on bringing Bill and Megan over to my school of thought. Most of these coastal roads follow natural seaside cliffs, crest above finger-like rock outcroppings, wind around the occasional promontory, and bound down into a quaint beach town before rising precipitously to start the whole process over again. The Adriatic coast of Montenegro and Croatia has provided much of these same hilly roads and I think it’s slowly starting to win over Bill and Megan on this hills business.
Following our eventful and laughter-filled sejour in Albania, we crossed into Montenegro to reach the Adriatic Sea. For those of you who have never heard of Montenegro, here is one valid excuse: it is, in fact, the third newest country in the world (only losing to Kosovo - 2008 and South Sudan - 2011). Montenegro, a former member of Yugoslavia like most of the rest of the Balkans, broke away from Serbia in 2006 and is now an attractive Adriatic destination free of the Serbia’s negative association to the Bosnian and Kosovo conflicts. It is, of course, yet another stunning country.
We entered Montenegro on tiny rural roads deep amongst naked gray rocky peaks, vineyards, and olive orchards bordered by loose stone walls. It was fun riding and we even stole away samples of the local produce straight from the vine/tree. All the grapes were delicious (Megan and I claim this trip is the first time we’ve tasted “grape flavor” in actual grapes), though olives picked from the tree are some of the bitterest things I’ve ever eaten – there must be some elaborate pickling process before they make it to the neighborhood supermarket…
Our destination was the medieval walled city of Kotor. When we were deciding where to take our rest days between Istanbul and Venice I remembered a Bing image I had seen two years prior of the Kotor Bay in Montenegro. The simple photo sparked more research and eventually we had worked out our cycling route to give us time to explore Kotor and the bay… a very good decision.
Kotor is a small town of white-stone and red-roofed buildings set at the foot of some of the deepest fjords in Europe outside of Norway. After checking the box on all of our standard, unexciting rest day tasks, we took the evening to explore the city. Old churches, cobblestone streets, and back-alley cafes all contributed to its incredible charm.
Kotor is a small town of white-stone and red-roofed buildings set at the foot of some of the deepest fjords in Europe outside of Norway. After checking the box on all of our standard, unexciting rest day tasks, we took the evening to explore the city. Old churches, cobblestone streets, and back-alley cafes all contributed to its incredible charm.
At sunset, we even decided to take the “rest” out of “rest day” and climb around on the medieval fort walls that tower high above the city for incredible views on the bay. It was well worth the effort.
Kotor was a refreshing stop, but it was time to exit Montenegro as quickly as we had entered it. The next day we rode around the bay and on towards Dubrovnik, Croatia. Dubrovnik is another city set at the heart of old Adriatic trading routes; its marble streets and fashionable buildings are evidence of its heyday wealth. It was Kotor on a grander scale, and we were excited to visit the city, but at the time we had other things on our mind.
As it was a Saturday in September, that meant Michigan football. As it was a Saturday in early September, that meant Michigan-Notre Dame. As it was September 10, 2011, that meant the first night game in the history of the Big House. We had been looking forward to this game for years and now we found ourselves in southern Croatia, about as far from Ann Arbor as you can get. Many of you witnessed this first-hand as you were recipients of emails, Skype chats, and other messages searching for a way to watch the game. The good news is that we eventually solved the puzzle through the amazing power of the internet.
We arrived in Dubrovnik and started the evening with an excellent Croatian dinner and wine inside the city walls (a little classier than our old tailgates). Our post-dinner bar crawl for ESPN proved unsuccessful, but it was at least successful for making us some new Croatian friends. By 2am, our friends wanted us to continue out on the town with them, but we had to return for kick-off. Back at our guesthouse, we were glued to my tiny computer screen for the next four hours as we streamed the game online. I guess it’s proof that in this modern age you’re never really all that far away from home. When the game ended at 6am, our cheers were greeted by our guesthouse owner Slobe, who had risen with the sun for breakfast. Now that’s what I call a night game!
We arrived in Dubrovnik and started the evening with an excellent Croatian dinner and wine inside the city walls (a little classier than our old tailgates). Our post-dinner bar crawl for ESPN proved unsuccessful, but it was at least successful for making us some new Croatian friends. By 2am, our friends wanted us to continue out on the town with them, but we had to return for kick-off. Back at our guesthouse, we were glued to my tiny computer screen for the next four hours as we streamed the game online. I guess it’s proof that in this modern age you’re never really all that far away from home. When the game ended at 6am, our cheers were greeted by our guesthouse owner Slobe, who had risen with the sun for breakfast. Now that’s what I call a night game!
We spent much of the next day touring Dubrovnik and catching up on sleep. Our slumber was only disturbed every once in a while by Slobe’s crazy and energetic young daughter who decided that Sunday was “act-like-a-cat-day”: she climbed into our room to hiss and jump around on our beds. We eventually got wild child out of there and rested up for our final push to Venice. Now refreshed from our two Adriatic rest days, we have many more kilometers of rugged coastal road to cover, walled medieval trading ports to visit, and Croatian adventures to be had before we can roll into the European Union and on to Venice.