The trip to Greece 1. Montenegro

After the time in Split, I went to Dubrovnik to spend the night, and from there, I would be en route to Greece. Two kiwi girls, Kylie and Jerina, very friendly and lovely, invited me to join their table at dinner as we were seated near each other at an outdoor restaurant in old town Dubrovnik. We got around to talking and I mentioned that I would be travelling through Albania the next day. Nobody I've met knows much about Albania, and Jerina innocently asked me how the people there could be so pale and white if it was so close to Greece.
I was dumbfounded for a while, until Kylie said "you're thinking of Albinos."

"Right", Jerina replied, "people from Albania."

We were laughing uncontrollably as we explained the difference between Albanians and Albinos. Jerina was an intelligent girl, and I guess you wouldn't really know something like that if you didn't find out by asking the question. The three of us went out to a bar afterwards and then a dance club, where we made our best at doing salsa to rap and dance music (it was, after all, a Latin Club).

After a late night with little sleep, I went to the bus station on Sunday morning to catch my bus to Ulcinj, in Southern Montenegro. A college age couple from Thunder Bay Ontario, Cody and Barb, was doing the same trip to Greece, and we began talking about getting there. I will say that, on a map, this is the most direct route from Croatia to Western Greece, probably the cheapest, the most interesting and adventurous logistically, and certainly the least popular. More people will take a long Ferry across the Adriatic to Italy and then back across from Italy to Greece. More people will fly to Rome or Northern Croatia, and then from there fly to Athens, and from there to Western Greece. When you ride a bus through Montenegro, you can see why some people would skip it altogether.

Montenegro's scenery is perhaps more dramatic than Croatia's, with steeper and higher mountains along the winding roads of the coast, yet the country is very obviously poorer. Homes are either damaged or in need of upkeep, and it seems like little effort is made to beautify the landscape. Our first stop was at a bus station. We understood that it would be an hour before we reboarded the bus to move on, so we went into a cafeteria in the bus station designed in the traditional communist style of blandness. The cafeteria was impressive for it's selection, especially on a Sunday in the middle of nowhere. We were able to choose from Goulash, Fish, Fish Stew, pasta, mashed potatoes among other things. The scene was very amusing to all of us as we ate our food. We watched the old ladies behind the cafeteria line interacting with the old men in line, all stone faced and speaking in a harsh language of consonants, as a harsh song by American Rapper 50 Cent was blaring over the cafeteria speakers.

We finished eating, and as Cody and I used the toilet, the bus pulled away empty, but with our luggage. Barb was able to stop the bus, and the driver tossed our bags out as he told us we needed to take another bus, the one pulling in. After 20 minutes on the new bus, the driver stopped in the middle of a road in a small town, opened the door and lit a cigarette as he walked into a nearby house. A minute later, a passenger from the rear of the bus got up, got off the bus and lit a cigarette as he walked into the same house. About 5 passengers, not seeming to know each other at all, each got off the bus in few minute intervals and entered the house. I've been too far removed from this season's "24" to have Jack Bauer-like instincts to imagine that this was some sort of terrorist cell in action. Within 20 minutes, everyone was back on board, and the driver lit his cigarette right under the "no smoking" symbol as we took off.

Within an hour, we were stopped again at the site of an auto accident (which fortunately appeared to have no injuries). In Montenegro (and Croatia) car accidents are a big deal that require serious research. Officers will take at least 50 measurements between two orange cones, which they are constantly moving to points nowhere near the cars. A photographer takes just as many pictures from all angles and it is very time consuming and appears very irrational (especially since there were witnesses). I can't help but think that the Montenegro police force was trained by watching the Oliver Stone film "JFK", with it's several vantages, viewpoints and diagrams of the assasination.

We finally arrived in Ulcinj. I originally thought I might stay the night there, but it was still early, there were 3 of us together, and the place was empty. At this time though, there was no bus to Albania. There were taxis that stopped at the border, and once crossed, you can take another taxi from the Albanian side. I overheard one of the bus driver's speaking German, and I told him the 3 of us wanted to get to Schkode, Albania (to catch another bus). He said 40 Euro, which was about what it would cost to take two taxi's. He whistled, and a black early 90's benz pulled up with an 18 year old driver with a shaved head, wearing nothing but boxer shorts and flip-flops (it was very hot out). One of the bus drivers got in the passenger seat, the 3 of us in the back, and we were on our way, racing on winding back roads. As we got further into the middle of nowhere, we pulled over onto a dirt road. There was another mercedes waiting in front of us with another driver. All 4 doors and the trunk were opened. It appeared strange and shady, but the driver of the new car got into the old car and drove off with the kid. The bus driver got into the driver's seat of this car, had us throw our luggage in the trunk, and we were now driving in the new car. The best I could understand (this bus driver spoke very little german), they did this because they aren't a registered taxi. The guy seemed genuine enough and we had reached the Albanian border.