mlchad147
- Jun 27
- 7 min read

June 26, 2024–Kotor, Montenegro

Forget everything I’ve ever said about excursions that have taken us over narrow, winding, cliffside roads on this cruise. They were nothing, mere also-rans. Today we encountered the undisputed champion, a serpentine monster that has to be seen to be believed. More on that shortly, but let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.

Today’s port of call was at Kotor, Montenegro, a small city of 22,000, in a small country of only 600,000 citizens. But while the city and country may be small, they pack a wallop when it comes to reasons to visit. After working our way down the Balkan side of the Adriatic Sea with stops in Slovenia and Croatia, today’s visit to Montenegro was the last before moving back out into the Mediterranean, and it was spectacular.

Kotor sits at the end of the 17 mile long Bay of Kotor, the fjord-like remains of a sunken river valley. Fjords seldom fail to impress, and this one was no exception. Beautiful mountains lined both sides, with villages a single street wide clinging to much of the shoreline. Occasionally we passed an old stone church perched precariously part way up the mountainside, leading me to wonder how worshippers get up there to attend services.

But the most amazing thing we saw dates back only to the Cold War, when Montenegro was part of the communist Yugoslav Federation. At that time the Yugoslav navy operated several attack submarines that prowled the Adriatic and Mediterranean Seas, with their bases sprinkled up and down the Adriatic. Three of their heavily camouflaged bunkers were located in the Bay of Kotor, and their remains were clearly visible as we sailed by. The concrete bunkers had gates covered with styrofoam rocks and moss that, when closed, made them invisible from the air, and while the styrofoam has mostly worn away, the rusting gates are still there. They really were something to see, and they created quite a buzz among those of our fellow passengers who were on deck to see them.

We had set our alarms for 5:30 am to watch the sail-in down the bay, so we were up long before our tender brought us ashore in Kotor for our 8:30 excursion. And I’ll tell you this—if we weren’t already fully awake by then, what happened next did the trick. Our full sized tour bus introduced us to the Kotor Serpentine, a snake-like climb up and over the mountain that pins the town to the coast. A series of 32 hairpin switchbacks, 25 of which are actually numbered, took us straight up 800 meters (that’s half a mile, folks) on a road so narrow that there is barely room for two cars to squeeze by each other. In fact, the road is only one way for buses, and the cars we encountered coming toward us often had to back up until they reached a spot wide enough to let us get past them.

Most of the way up there’s an overlook where we pulled over so we could admire the view down to Kotor and the bay, and take some photos if we could get our hands to stop shaking. The drivers of the three buses in our little caravan convened for a much needed cigarette break, and as we watched, one passenger came over and hugged his driver. Think I’m exaggerating? Michele has a photo of me clenching the hand holds on the seat in front of mine. She may share it with you, but I won’t.

A few more switchbacks and mercifully we were over the top, and we dropped down a bit as we approached our first stop, the tiny village of Njeguši. There we entered a roadside restaurant and, for the modest sum of five euros, I enjoyed a traditional Montenegrin breakfast of prosciutto, bread and cheese (drink included). There were a handful of souvenir stands outside, leading me to believe this is a regular stop on tourist excursions. We were delighted to discover that one of them not only sold postcards and stamps, but even had a mailbox outside, allowing Michele to continue her streak of mailing postcards home from all the countries we visit.

Leaving Njeguši, we continued through the mountains to Cetinje, the old imperial capital of Montenegro, and still designated the country’s honorary capital. Though it only has a population of 12,000 or so, it is an important cultural center and is the home of the president’s official residence. The town has a wide main street that, except for its width, is reminiscent of the shop and cafe-lined streets in many old cities we’ve visited. After a brief orientation by our guide we spent a little over an hour wandering around town, taking photos and poking our heads into a few markets and shops.

Then, mercifully, we took what passes for a major highway in Montenegro to wind our way down out of the mountains to the coastal tourist town of Budva, notable for an exclusive island just offshore where the ultrarich pay obscene amounts of money to vacation in luxury and privacy. From there we battled heavy traffic as we followed the coastal road back to Kotor for the final segment of our day’s excursion. Kotor, like the other Adriatic cities we’ve visited, has a walled old city, and it is similar to the others in many ways. What’s different is that unlike the others, the walls extend from the city up the ridiculously steep mountainside in a manner reminiscent of the Great Wall of China. A similar impossibly steep wall goes all the way up the mountain directly across from the city, a feat of engineering and construction that boggled my mind.

The walled city itself is fairly small, and our guided tour took only 45 minutes, after which we were released to explore on our own or make the short walk back to the pier. We chose to stay in the city, where we spent a bit less than an hour window shopping and strolling down the narrow cafe and shop-lined alleys. We got back to the ship around 3:30, which sounds early enough, but after a 5:30 am wake-up call we were tired and hungry. Fortunately the ship has its own small cafe where passengers can get something to eat between meals, and I was restored by a roast beef sandwich and an iced coffee.

Our sail away from Kotor began around 6:00, and we scored an outside table along the rail for dinner, giving us a second opportunity to enjoy the fjord-like scenery on our way back out to the Adriatic. Tomorrow is a rare sea day, and the last one we’ll have for nearly three weeks as we hop from port to port in the Mediterranean and North Atlantic. Pacing ourselves is going to be important to avoid wearing ourselves out, but I’m excited about all the places we’ll be visiting. Our next three destinations are Malta, Sicily and Rome, and I’ll try my best to keep up with the blog, so stay tuned.

On our way in the Bay of Kotor. This restaurant is highly rated.

Ferries cross the Bay at its narrowest point. There’s no bridge across the seventeen mile long fjord-like bay.

This is one of the three Cold War Yugoslav navy submarine bunkers we passed on our way down Kotor bay. There isn’t much left of the camouflaged gates that closed to hide the bunkers from detection from the air.

Though we can’t be sure, this certainly looks like an old submarine lying on its side in the bay, not far from the bunkers.

Enjoying the sail in on the beautiful Bay of Kotor.

An especially beautiful spot in the bay. On the left island is Our Lady of the Rocks. On the right is Saint George. Stunning.

Michele thought so too.

We passed this clipper ship on our way in.

At last, Kotor. View from our tender, with the wall of the old city clearly visible. Partway up the mountain is a church, and if you look closely you can see a wall extending all the way to the top.

We still weren’t at the top, but there was enough of a pulloff that we could stop and take photos of Kotor far below. That’s our ship in the harbor. Look closely and you can see a clipper ship and another cruise ship farther out.

I doubt a Coke Zero is part of a traditional Montenegrin breakfast, but the prosciutto, cheese and bread are. My five euro meal in Njeguši was well worth the price.