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Tuesday, September 24th - Becici to Bar - 11,951 km
Today I plan to leave Montenegro. I want to catch a ship from Bar, near the south coast of the country to Bari, on the heel of Italy.
I leave Becici at 9:30 following the coast south. My first stop is only six kilometres along at Sveti Stefan (Saint Stephen), a fortified Renaissance village that used to be an island a couple hundred metres offshore. Now it is connected to the mainland by a gravel causeway and a service road. It was fortified to protect against the Turks, and later became a base for pirates. In recent years, it has become a 5-star hotel for rich celebrities, such as Elizabeth Taylor, Orson Welles, Kirk Douglas, Sophia Loren, Princess Margaret and others. In the 70s it was the site of the famous chess tournament between Boris Spassky and Bobby Fischer.
I cycle over the causeway and involve the gatekeeper, a middle-aged man who speaks fluent English and exudes class without attitude, in a lengthy conversation about the history and nature of the resort. Eventually, duty calls him and I continue south.
It takes a further two hours to cycle the remainder of this rocky coast to get to the city of Bar, from which the ferry crosses the Adriatic to Bari. I arrive there in the early afternoon. I find the ticket office for the ferry and buy my passage, but the ferry doesn't leave for four more hours. I wander up deeper into the town that stretches back into a small valley a couple kilometres. I reach Stari Bar, an impressive expanse of ruins that includes fortifications, churches and a huge aqueduct at the base of a large mountain called Mt. Rumija. It lies there in its 'natural' dilapidated state of decay, which means it hasn't been tarted up for tourists. The sun is rather hot on this late September day so after an hour and a half I wander back to the city.
I buy lunch and a drink at a patio café in Bar. I see another lone patron, a young man, seated at the table next to me. My loaded bicycle catches his eye and we exchange smiles. I greet him and he invites me over to his table. His name is Zoran. He's from Sarajevo in Bosnia, a traveling sale representative for something to do with linens. He has incredible green eyes and otherwise dark features that keep me riveted on his face. He is more than grateful for the opportunity to talk, mostly because I am from another country, I suppose. Zoran first asks about my travels and then about my life in Canada. He is especially excited by our commonalities. He tells me he has been trying to stop smoking. I say, "Yes, but then the phone rings and you have to grab a cigarette." He laughs with delight that people on the other side of the world experience the same phenomena. He is really keen on being friends and I'd bring him along with me if I could, just to see his incredible eyes everyday.
I ask him about the war, which is constantly on my mind. He says he doesn’t believe the war will ever spread to Sarajevo because there the Serbs, Croats, Muslims and Jews have all lived integrated lives for decades. He thinks the fighting will mainly be in the countryside. If he is wrong, he says his mother has property in Slovenia where he can move to. I hope he is right. No one wants to believe the war will spread. I just hope he can make it out in time if it does.
We are so absorbed in our conversation that I don’t even realize it how time is passing until it is only 20 minutes to my ship’s departure time. I wish him well and race to the ship on my bike. The loading gate for cars is closing as I arrive and I am directed to haul my bike up to the outer deck of the ship. I am the last passenger to board. I really have to stop making such close calls all the time. I lock my bike to the gunwale railing and carry my seven bags inside to look for my cabin.
I have dinner on board in the dining room. There is no one interesting I can see to talk, no one on their own or even couples receptive to talking with others. I read my book of poetry and amuse myself by writing before retiring for the night.
PHOTO 1: coast at Becici
PHOTO 2: Sveti Stefan
PHOTO 3: Old town of Bar, inland from present town
PHOTO 4: road in old town Bar
PHOTO 5: 1000 year old olive tree
PHOTO 6: turret in Stari (Castle) Bar
PHOTO 7: Stari Bar town walls
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