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Post by Emperor AAdmin on Dec 30, 2010 17:51:51 GMT -5
Discovering Montenegro, a corner of Europe that remains untamed by tourism
By David Rose Last updated at 2:53 PM on 23rd December 2010
Its fur was white with a streak of grey and it sat magnificently by the roadside, staring into the distance. We had no doubt what it was. On a lonely route high in the Durmitor mountains of Montenegro, we had just encountered our first full-grown wolf. We stopped and fumbled for our cameras, but by the time we were ready it had ambled into the undergrowth.
Somehow, it didn’t seem so surprising. Having gained its independence from Serbia as recently as 2006, Montenegro can often feel untamed, its tourism far less developed than it is, for example, in neighbouring Croatia.
A castle overlooking Kotor Bay
Off the tourist trail: A castle overlooking Kotor Bay in the newly independent Montenegro
Along the exquisite Adriatic coast, a 200-mile sweep of azure water, plunging cliffs and gorgeous Venetian architecture, there are restaurants and small boutique resorts the equal of any throughout the Mediterranean.
But not everywhere: even by the seaside, there are long stretches which are still undeveloped, and many food stores there carry an unexpectedly restricted range of produce.
As for the interior, a dizzying assembly of lakes, mountains and precipitous limestone canyons, it is truly wild and often empty, with few tourist facilities at all.
Meanwhile, anyone contemplating a holiday in Montenegro needs to know that driving on its narrow, winding, single-carriageway roads requires care.
Unprotected drops of hundreds of feet are common, as are bus and taxi drivers who seem to think that driving on the wrong side of the road when negotiating a tight blind bend is acceptable. On the other hand, to see the country properly, driving is pretty much the only feasible way for a family to get around. Just make sure you have strong nerves and good insurance. wolves in the Durrmitor mountains
Untamed: Wolves roam the Durrmitor mountains
Having flown to Dubrovnik in Croatia and picked up a rental car, my wife Carolyn, our sons Jacob, 11, Daniel, six, and I drove across the border and spent two-and-a-half weeks in Montenegro last August.
The package holiday industry here is in its infancy, and apart from just one big resort, Budva, much of which resembles a garish Adriatic Blackpool, there are relatively few hotels. However, we found a good selection of self-catering accommodation on the internet and, determined to experience as much of the country as possible, we divided our holiday between two spacious and well-appointed apartments. Neither cost us more than £550 a week, and both came equipped with stunning panoramas and large shared pools.
In the sea, the water was always crystalline, and the beaches spotless. Moreover, the weather was perfect the whole time, with cloudless days and maximum temperatures in the low 30s. But there is much more to Montenegro than buckets and spades and snorkelling.
We spent our first week at Muo, a village deep inside the Montenegrin coast’s jewel – the Gulf of Kotor, a 15-mile-long fjord with white limestone walls that at their loftiest, beneath the summit of Mount Lovocen, are almost 6,000ft high. Kotor itself, at the far end, is a small walled city, an ancient stone Venetian-Gothic labyrinth of shady alleys and sunny piazzas, most with pavement bars and restaurants.
Their Italian-style ice cream is as good as it gets. There is also a Byzantine cathedral dating back to the 9th Century.
One morning we rose at 6am to beat the heat and made the climb along the walls from the town to the citadel, 1,300ft above – a stunning, fortified eyrie with spectacular views of the city below and the mountains framing the gulf. David, Daniel and Jacob take a boat trip
Delightful backwater: David, Daniel and Jacob take a boat trip
Another Kotor highlight was a trip to Perast, a few miles down the fjord towards the open sea, where we took a boat to an offshore island with room for nothing but a tiny church, Our Lady of the Rocks – built some 400 years ago as a shrine for imperilled mariners.
Back on the mainland, we lunched on fabulous sea bream caught that morning, accompanied by an excellent Montenegrin chardonnay.
Montenegro is small, about the size of Northern Ireland, but the convoluted nature of its landscape and its poor roads mean that even journeys which don’t look very far as the crow flies take a long time. We made two forays into the interior. On our first, we found Skadar Lake, the biggest freshwater expanse in the Balkans, an unspoilt birdwatcher’s paradise ringed by mountains that extends far into Albania, and hired a boat – piloted much of the one of the monasteries that stud Skadar’s islands.
Our second expedition was more daring. Braving the worst of the roads we encountered, we snaked along for hours up into the Durmitor national park – a range of jagged peaks reminiscent of the Dolomites, rising to close to 9,000ft. We stayed overnight in Zabljak, supposedly Montenegro’s most sophisticated mountain resort, which has several pistes and winter ski lifts. There, it has to be said, accommodation and food remain stuck in the Communist past: the place has a long way to go before it can start to compete with resorts elsewhere in eastern Europe, let alone the Alps.
But we weren’t there for luxury. On our first day, we explored the mountains and walked around the twin lakes close to the town, their shores overlooked by great forests and rockfaces. On the second, having made arrangements through a Zabljak agency, we headed for the Tara – the surging, turquoise river that flows for more than 50 miles through Europe’s grandest canyon, in places 4,000ft deep.
Meeting our whitewater rafting ‘captain’ near one of the few places it is possible to drive to the river’s banks, we were slightly disconcerted to be offered the chance to share his bottle of plum brandy – at 9.30 in the morning.
But the hours that followed were pure delight, with the river’s rapids – rated grade 3 on the international scale – challenging enough to provide a real thrill to six-year-olds and adults alike, while not so huge as to be totally terrifying.
During one of the roughest, wildest sections, we passed beneath the arch of a road bridge more than 1,000ft above and watched while someone plummeted down from the parapet towards us. Fortunately, he was merely participating in the Tara’s other sporting attraction – bungee jumping.
After the mountains, we moved back to the coast to a place further south – Przno. It is a couple of miles from another icon of Venetian architecture, the island of Sveti Stefan – attached, like Mont St Michel in Brittany, to the mainland via a causeway. Sveti Stefan
Venetian: The island of Sveti Stefan which is linked to the mainland via a causeway
The beaches in this area were the best we found, while Przno’s fishing harbour proved to be a delightful spot in which to watch the sun set from its waterside restaurants. There were further cultural attractions nearby, too, such as Bar Stari Grad – a semi-ruined Ottoman city. Our last night was Carolyn’s birthday, and we booked a table at what was reputed to be Przno’s finest restaurant, Bianca. It looked delightful, perched on a cliff overlooking the end of the beach, with a lovely terrace and starched white tablecloths. The menu was tempting, the wine superb, and the bread and olives on which we nibbled were of the highest quality.
Alas: the main courses took more than two hours to arrive, by which time Daniel was fast asleep and our waiter was almost weeping with regret and frustration, while the large party of Russians at the next table were banging their glasses with their spoons to signal impatience.
Somehow, the experience seemed symbolic of Montenegro and its creaking infrastructure as a whole. Do not go expecting everything to run smoothly. On the other hand, in an age when most of Europe’s Mediterranean shores were long ago overrun by visitors, this country is still emerging, unformed. Sampling it now is worth the odd long wait for dinner. Travel facts
Thomson Airways (0871 231 4787, www.thomson.co.uk/flights) offers flights direct to Dubrovnik from London Gatwick, Manchester and Birmingham throughout the summer. Return fares start from £179.
For car hire contact Gulliver Travel (www.gulliver.hr).
Package holidays are available through Travelsphere (0844 567 9960, , Balkan Holidays (0845 130 1114, and Inghams (0208 780 4433, .
For information on Montenegro visit www.visit-montenegro.com www.dailymail.co.uk/travel/article-1339972/Montenegro-s-spotless-beaches-wild-wolves-Corner-Europe-untamed-tourism.html
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Post by Emperor AAdmin on Dec 30, 2010 18:05:48 GMT -5
Discovering the hidden delights of Magnificent Montenegro
By Chris Leadbeater Last updated at 10:51 AM on 7th April 2009
Look if you dare: The Tara River Canyon lays claim to being the world's second largest canyon (after the Grand Canyon). The Durdevica Tara Bridge makes for a fantastic, if not terrifying, viewing point.
Biogradska Gora may not have the prettiest sounding name but this forested region of Montenegro is another of the country's national parks.
Heavenly motoring: the drive north from Podgorica is a beautiful one but not for the faint-hearted...the road drops away over a steep gorge, at the bottom of which lies the River Moraca.
Read more: www.dailymail.co.uk/travel/article-1167045/Discovering-hidden-delights-Magnificent-Montenegro.html#ixzz19djAHTJO
Lake Skadar, south of Podgorica, is one of four Montenegrin national parks. Straddling the Albanian border, the lake is surrounded by mountains and is a haven for wildlife.
Riding on the ferry that sails between Kamenari and Lepetane, I realise that, briefly, I have lost my bearings. The boat in question is little more than a clunking platform that lugs lorries and cars across the half-mile gap between the two villages umpteen times a day – but it would need to sink in order to disturb my enjoyment of the view.
It is hard to decide which element of the narrow sea channel is the most picturesque. Maybe it is the sun-sparkle flashes that dance on the surface, or perhaps the mountains that plunge down to the water on both left and right. It could be the village houses clustered at the foot of these great walls, their orange roofs reminiscent of Dubrovnik. Or it might be the odd tiny church or ruined cottage seemingly glued at random onto the granite slopes that make me wonder, momentarily, if I am somehow in Kefalonia.
Orange roofs and medieval walls are in evidence in Budvar, where the architecture, particularly in the old centre, harks back to the days when the Venetians ruled here.
But then, I am in neither Croatia nor Greece. This is the Bay of Kotor, a writhing waterway that burrows deep into the side of the small Balkan country of Montenegro. It is also the largest bay on the Adriatic – and there is no bridge. The only alternative to the ferry is the 67-mile road around the edge – a twisting trail that brings you to Kotor itself, a postcard town that boasts UNESCO World Heritage status thanks to its medieval walls.
The town of Kotor at the end of a 67-mile road around the largest bay on the Adriatic boasts medieval walls and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
My confusion over my location is forgivable. Neither Croatia, mere miles to the west, nor Greece, 250 miles south, on the other side of Albania, is far from Kotor. Then there is the fact that I have never visited Montenegro before – as is the case with most western tourists. It may sit just over the Adriatic from central Italy, but this tiny state of 5019 square miles has been closed to most of Europe for much of the last 60 years.
Star attraction: Sveti Stefan, a diamond-shaped islet just below the town of Budva, does a good impression of a mini Dubrovnik. The likes of Sophia Loren and Claudia Schiffer have stayed here and Yugoslavia's former president Josep Tito had a holiday home here.
First came its time behind the Iron Curtain as part of communist Yugoslavia. Then came the tumultuous Nineties. The names of Montenegro’s other neighbours – Serbia to the north, Bosnia and Herzegovina to the north-west – are a reminder that this part of the continent was a war-torn hellhole for almost a decade. And while Montenegro did not sustain much physical damage in that period – despite being firmly tied to chief aggressor Serbia, it was largely spared the NATO bombardment that effectively ended the conflict in 1999 – it was a place in cold storage, ostracised and isolated.
The new millennium brought something of a fresh start - not least June 2006, when Montenegro was formally divorced from Serbia and became the world’s youngest independent nation. Since then, there has been an active attempt to push the country as a holiday destination – and there are signs that attitudes are changing. The Rolling Stones staged a concert on Jaz Beach, near the coastal town of Budva, in 2007. Madonna followed suit by playing the same spot at the tail end of September 2008.
It is a location well chosen. While Croatia’s lauded Dalmatian Coast ends at Kotor Bay, Montenegro’s 182-mile shoreline continues the theme, proffering pristine beaches, rocky headlands and secluded coves. Budva sits at its heart, an elegant mix of the modern – the five-star Hotel Splendid, where the Stones stayed – and the historic – the old centre where another stretch of medieval wall advertises the town’s heritage as a former outpost of the Venetian Empire. Inside you find charming shops and churches (the oldest, St Ivan’s, dating from the 7th century) huddled on close-knit streets where washing still hangs from windows. Outside, you find a surprisingly swanky marina and a delightful nest of cafes. On a summer afternoon, I sip a coffee overlooking the water, amazed that there are so few other people enjoying the same wide-angle vista.
There are other resorts, notably Tivat, towards the Croatian border, and Ulcinj, near Albania. Then there is Bar, more port than beach babylon, but worth an afternoon of anyone’s time for Stari Bar, its abandoned, ruined old quarter. The violent effort needed to wrest the city from Ottoman control in the late 19th century started the rot, and an earthquake in 1979 added insult to injury, but the fractured churches and fortifications retain a sad majesty. Walking here on a grey morning, watching the olive trees swaying in the breeze, puts me in mind again of the quieter corners of Kefalonia. However, the crown jewel of Montenegro’s coast is Sveti Stefan (pictured on the video player above).
A diamond-shaped islet just off the shore below Budva, it looks like a mini Dubrovnik, a host of orange-roofed buildings sprouting from the rock to pin-cushion effect. Predominantly a resort (an Aman retreat is due to open fully by late summer), it is not hard to appreciate why Sophia Loren, Sylvester Stallone and Claudia Schiffer have stayed here, nor why Josip Tito, Yugoslavia’s dictator-president from 1953 to 1980, had a summer villa that gazed across to it from the mainland. The property is still visible above the beach.
While the coast is the main draw for visitors, Montenegro also has much to offer inland. Perhaps not the capital Podgorica, a drab, functional city ostensibly bereft of beauty. But there is fine scenery galore among the lofty snow-capped peaks that, as Montenegro’s name – ‘Black Mountain’ – suggests, account for much of its territory.
On the second day I take a boat across Lake Skadar, a vast mountain-framed pool south of Podgorica that straddles the Albanian border. During the Nineties, when UN sanctions were imposed on Yugoslavia, smugglers used the lake to bring in cigarettes and petrol from the next-door state. Nowadays it is one of four Montenegrin national parks, home to 270 species of bird, including herons, pelicans, egrets and cormorants.
It is in the north, though, that matters hit rugged overdrive. Biogradska Gora, an area of pristine forest, is another of the national parks – but it is outshone by the road that leads to its gates. The ribbon of tarmac that runs north out of Podgorica is surely one of Europe’s greatest unknown highways, clinging to the mountain on one side while a steep gorge lurks on the other, the thread of the River Moraca winding at the bottom.
This scenic showing-off continues as the road climbs to Durmitor, the most northerly of the national parks. Here you find Montenegro’s foremost natural marvel. The Tara River Canyon is the second of the country’s UNESCO World Heritage Sites – but that tag barely does it justice. Fifty miles long and 1300 metres tall at its deepest point, it lays claim to being the second largest canyon in the world, behind the Grand Canyon.
If you have the nerve, you can raft the canyon. Or you can admire the view from the Durdevica Tara Bridge, the main crossing point, which spans the divide in spectacular fashion. Gaze from its walkway and you are certain to feel lightheaded – dizzy at the drop, and baffled that few outside the Balkans have heard of the echoing chasm below.
Communism - including a regime dominated by former Yugoslavian dictator/president Josep Tito - has left its mark on more than just Montenegro's architecture.
For all its beauty, there is still, though, a whiff of the Iron Curtain about Montenegro. It is there in the concrete outskirts of Podgorica (formerly Titograd) and a dilapidated road network pitted with traffic cones and roped-off areas.
But this only increases the country’s charm and encourages the feeling that you are visiting a place caught between two eras. Nowhere is this clearer than in Kolasin, a ski resort north of Podgorica. In the main square stands a classic communist statue – two workers, feet planted on a rocky outcrop, arms and flags raised aloft. Behind it is an administrative building of such angular brutality that you almost shy away from it.
Yet walk beyond the square and you find the Bianca Resort. Opened in 1948, but overhauled in 2005, this chalet-style hotel now has an Olympic-sized pool and a spa.
Of course, even here the schizophrenia continues. The walls of the spa area are hung with sepia photos of Tito driving into Kolasin in the Sixties in an open-top Rolls Royce.
Looking at these images, I find myself wondering what the old dictator would make of the Kolasin of 2008, with its six fledgling miles of ski run that speak of a brighter future. Would he be shocked? It would be an understandable reaction. It is hard to be anything but surprised that a country so stunning has lain unseen for so long.
Travel facts
Return flights from London to Tivat cost from £214 with Montenegro Airlines, (020 7864 4032, montenegroairlines.com). B&B double rooms at the Hotel Princess in Bar (00382 85 300 300, azalea-hotels.com) cost from £54 pppn. B&B double rooms at the Bianca Resort in Kolasin (00382 81 863000, biancaresort.com) start at £108pppn. For more information, visit montenegro.travel. www.dailymail.co.uk/travel/article-1167045/Discovering-hidden-delights-Magnificent-Montenegro.html
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gavrilo
Amicus
Vi ste svi banane
Posts: 840
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Post by gavrilo on Jan 3, 2011 16:35:04 GMT -5
Amazing pics
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Bozur
Amicus
Posts: 5,515
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Post by Bozur on Jan 27, 2011 0:57:12 GMT -5
Montenegro is on the money: Basking in the brilliance of this rising star of the Balkans
By Kate O'grady Last updated at 6:23 PM on 5th January 2011
The first Montenegrin commandment reads: 'Man was born tired and he lives to rest.'
It is the perfect holiday mantra, if a curious national saying. But, as my boyfriend and I discovered, Montenegro is full of surprises.
Balkan beauty: Wonderfully uncommercialised, Budva is an example of Montenegro's coast at its finest
Bordering Croatia and just up the coast from Greece, this wallflower among western travel destinations is overshadowed by its popular neighbours and tainted by memories of conflict. But it has a loyal eastern fan club, and membership is expanding.
During its days as part of Yugoslavia, the coast was a red carpet for the well-heeled. Silver-screen royalty Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor strutted around Sveti Stefan, the iconic island hotel on the Adriatic coast also frequented by Princess Margaret - until the Yugoslav wars pulled the plug on the party.
Bearing few battle wounds, Montenegro is now preparing for the return of the jet set. The marina in Budva, the main resort, is accommodating bigger, brassier yachts - a golden monstrosity dominated the horizon when we were there. Sparkly new Porto Montenegro further north will welcome more floating palaces.
Sveti Stefan was reopened last summer by the doyen of luxury hotels, Aman Resorts. Now, eye-watering pricetags and burly guards ensure its exclusivity. The badge of Montenegrin tour ism has become diamond-encrusted.
It is no surprise that the great and the good are returning. Even with all this development, the calm is undeniable. It's as though the whole nation really does take resting seriously. Crime rates are low and discretion is high.
Lord Byron, another famous visitor, described the Montenegrin coast as 'the most beautiful contact between the earth and the sea'. The brooding mountains that gave the country its name are an intimidating backdrop to the water - so clear that at 30ft deep you can often see the sea floor.
The scenery commands respect, and lying on Becici's beach five minutes east of Budva, you can feel Italy glaring across the sea in envy.
Our Montenegro exploration started as a largely horizontal affair. 'Love your bed as you love yourself,' is the second commandment. So, dutifully we sauntered between the airy rooms at the Hotel Queen of Montenegro, in Becici, and the pool deckchairs and then back to the private beach's sun loungers.
Out on a limb: Sveti Stefan is the jewel of Montenegro's Adriatic shoreline
Occasionally we lifted eyelids to watch the former Soviet bloc at play. Speedo-clad Russians strutted like gentle giants as their svelte girlfriends reclined impossibly long legs on fluffy towels.
Bronzed children busied themselves with sandcastles, and the sea was awash with bobbing Ukrainian blue rinse. There were no aggressive touts, no blathered stag tours and no litter.
From the beach, we moved up the coast to Budva, a fortified old town that juts into the Adriatic like a mini Dubrovnik. Its perfect appearance is thanks to painstaking reconstruction following a 1979 earthquake and a population devoid of graffitiing oiks.
The terracotta roofs and limestone walls are home to churches, boutiques and tiny bars refreshingly filled with local men with a dogmatic commitment to the national commandments. It is picture perfect without the hordes of other tourist paparazzi cluttering up your holiday snaps.
The town is best seen from the Avala Resort. As one of the first hotels in Budva, it pinched the finest views in 1937. It is all concrete and glass, like a Yugoslav-era James Bond lair, with an infinity pool hovering over the sea.
Inside, you are cocooned by sleek dark interiors, so incongruous with the colourful town outside that looking out of the window feels like watching a romantic film.
In a nod to the new developing Montenegro, a larger restaurant and night club are being added to try for five-star status. Further north lies Boka Kotorska, a bay often mis-labelled Europe's most southern fjord, because of the Scandinavian like slopes tumbling down to inviting waters.
Assured it was the best way to see Boka, we joined 200 other tourists on a bateau mouche. We passed fisherman in wooden boats displaying silvery catches and toothy grins. Children and mothers waved hand in hand from small pontoons.
The sleepy shores were once part of the Republic of Venice and home to a formidable naval force that defeated the mighty Barbarossa. Idyllic Perast was the last holder of the Venetian flag. The locals have lost none of their defensive nature. They've largely resisted the invasion of high-rise hotels and tourist clutter.
We became keen followers of the Montenegrin commandments. Our favourite was the tenth: 'When you see others eating and drinking move closer'. Blessed with the same climate that ripens the tomatoes and olives of her Mediterranean neighbours, the food is familiar, simple and fresh.
At the Queen of Montenegro's buffet dinners, our plates were laden so high, they competed in stature with the mountains outside. Jadran - a seafood restaurant so popular it spills out on to Budva's promenade and beach - even supplies its customers with a bib. Wise, given the enthusiastic way I devoured my bowl of Buzara Mussels.
Picture perfect: The village of Perast is set on what is sometimes referred to as Europe's southernmost fjord
Don't expect a quick bite though. Montenegro is free from McDonald's and many other fast-food chains and eating is a national pastime practised with laissez- faire. The waiters' devotion to the languid life is charming, but you will wait around an hour for your bill.
At one cafe, the waiter kept a cigarette burning the whole evening. He tended to it as lovingly and as often as he did his customers.
We learned to order an extra glass of Plantaze Vranac - a local red served slightly chilled - and relished being forced to relax.
The fifth Montenegrin commandment is: 'If you see someone resting, help him.'
From the laid back waiters, the mouth-watering food and scenery through to our genteel fellow travellers, that is what Montenegro does, exquisitely. Travel Facts
Seven nights at the Queen of Montenegro costs from £539pp including flights, transfers and half board accommodation. Seven nights at the Avala Grand Hotel and Villas costs from £510pp including flights, transfers and B&B accomodation, 0845 130 1114, www.balkanholidays.co.uk. www.dailymail.co.uk/travel/article-1344299/Montenegro-holidays-Sveti-Stefan-Budva-light-rising-Balkan-star.html
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Post by terroreign on Jan 27, 2011 6:08:12 GMT -5
Yep those are our only coastline neighbors worth mentioning ;D
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Post by Caslav Klonimirovic on Jan 27, 2011 6:19:46 GMT -5
Pretty much the most beautiful place I've ever been... Everyone always says Greece is heaven on earth. I've got to put Greece on top of the list for next time.
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Post by terroreign on Jan 27, 2011 7:39:27 GMT -5
Pretty much the most beautiful place I've ever been... Everyone always says Greece is heaven on earth. I've got to put Greece on top of the list for next time. Zar ne mislis na Crnu Goru? Kakva grcka
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