Mountains of Crna Gora and cheese

We chose to drive through the centre of Crna Gora, known to us as Montenegro ((Black Mountain), so that we could visit the Durmitor National Park. A first visit would usually include the coast south of Dubrovnik, which we have already visited (Kotor etc.). A guy at a filling station was overjoyed to hear that this wasn't our first visit to his country. He even knew that GB on the plates meant Great Britain!

At the border all was fine until the Montenegro barrier side, where we asked for the "green card". This is a universal phrase at the borders, even though there is no such physical thing as a green card anymore (not in these parts anyway). I was directed to the fourth window around the corner and there I met the border lounge lizard.

He was a little surprised to see me, so the TV screen he was watching with his feet up on the desk was clearly not the cctv of the border office.

"Can I have a green card please?".

"Green card?".

"Yes please, a Green Card".

"Car documents".

So I handed over my V5 and waited for the sharp intake of breath as he found the 'B' vehicle classification or some other reason to charge excessively.

"What vehicle?"

" Land Rover - it's a normal Land Rover".

"A normal Land Rover. Seats?"

"No, yes well two - it's for camping".

"Camping car?".

"No, just a big space inside".

Then he did an amazing thing, he swung off his chair and came outside to look around the corner at the Landy. ( only from the rear and from a distance). Then he was back in the office, pulled a piece of paper and filled-in the details, and charged me €15.

So we were "in" with 3rd party insurance.

We headed north and skirted Podgoriča and to Durmitor NP. On the top of a large high plain and nested under the highest peak, is Žabljak, which looks as though it should be in Scandinavia.

We stayed at a small campsite just outside the village, with a view of the mountain. That was, until the clouds rolled in and the heavens opened. It was just like a wet night in the Lake District. As we were at 1,400m or so, it was cold and the rain was very wet. I was thankful that as usual when pitching the tent, I hadn't taken any short cuts and I had 'pitched for the worst'. On the continent you just don't seem to get the warning about when the rain is going to start. Suddenly it's coming down.

The morning was cold and clear.

Our route through the mountains was a high pass, over 1,900m, round the back of Bobotov Kuk in the picture, which at 2,523m is the highest of the Durmitor peaks. There are forty eight of them that are above 2,000m. Amazing!

It's a narrow road but easy driving, just a lot of hairpins.

Once we had got our fill of the views from the top of the pass, we jumped back in the Landy, ready for the next section which is a high level road through the mountains. As we drove down from the pass there was a sign at the roadside and we could see a small collection of buildings beautifully situated on a grassy shelf.

It was a rough grassy track and we've got a Landy, so we launched across it to see what the signs were all about.

Meet the family! Oorosh, his wife Rada, son Vacilli and daughters Danistar and Maria. (Excuse the phonetic spelling). The next hour was a lovely experience during which we got to know a little about their summer way of life.

For twenty years this couple have come to live up here during the three summer months, following in the footsteps of Rada's parents, who did it for sixty years. They bring with them animals and essentials and run this small holding and make cheese, fatten turkeys and generally have an amazing time.

We spoke in broken English with mum and daughter number one, who by the way is no slouch. She has a first degree in Civil Engineering and is studying for her Masters, specialising in railway track routing and foundations. The other kids are at school but are happy that their holiday is spent up in the mountain, tucked just beneath the 1,907m pass.

Inside the timber house (a Koliba), Rada gave us cheese to taste, made with milk from the handful of cows which are no doubt milked by hand every day. There were various flavours, including a cream cheese which tasted lovely. They have some refrigeration, I think driven from a generator. We have cooling driven from a battery so we couldn't go overboard in our purchases but we managed to buy two cartons which we ate at lunchtime (and gave us garlic breath) for several days.

It really was a wrench to leave; I could have stayed there for the rest of the summer especially as Dad and Son were constructing another Koliba. However they probably wouldn't have welcomed the intrusion for any longer so we made our way back to the road.

At the next pass, we were contemplating the view and solitude once again, whilst watching a truck make its way towards us. Just after it passed, there was the sound of several car horns as it passed one, two, three... vehicles. Sounding your horn is usual but more than a dozen times is not.

In fact about fifty people got out of about twenty cars, which all stopped next to us. We should not have been surprised to know that this was a group trip of some sort. We were surprised to find that it was a dance troupe from Chicago, comprising third generation Serbs, who were touring the Balkans and performing their act. They had their fourth generation kids with them who were learning the Serbian language and generally developing the knowledge of their Serbian roots.

We exchanged lots of views of Durmitor and Land Rovers and my bonnet (hood) was raised and the 300TDi engine was 'wowed' over.

Then they were gone and we continued north, still on the single track road, heading for a lake in a gorge, where we would pickup the main road.

After many kms, we reached the lake, as the satnav map showed it right next to us, but I got the shock of my life when I finally spotted it below me.

It was directly below us, right there under the wheels (as well as further over, as this pic shows). It was impossible to understand how we could get down to a road that is on our side of the water. This was how, about a dozen tunnels, some of which are on hairpin bends. In the pic below you can se the entry and exit.

After the steep descent and plenty of dark tunnels ( no lights here and they are tunnels, carved from the rock without concrete linings), we got down to the lake, which is actually a reservoir. Later in the day we would drive through a tunnel that was 2,200m long, with no lights and no markers. It was very dark and very scary.

The scenery was still stunning and that is our everlasting view of Crna Gora, an amazingly beautiful country, full of mountains and gorges.

It was a shame to leave!