It was a comparatively short journey from Dubrovnik to the coastal town of Budva. Upon arriving at the bus station, Danny and I approached the ticket office, leaving Catz to bask in the sunshine. Anticipating a lazy day by the beach and perhaps a night on the tiles, Catz was surprised when Danny handed him a bus ticket to Ulcinj, valid in a little over two hours time. An absence of buses to Albania meant we had the choice of staying in Budva for two nights or catching the bus to Ulcinj that same day. With a flight from Budapest booked, we decided we could ill afford to linger in Budva, and so Danny and I purchased the three tickets to Ulcinj.
With an unexpected two hours to kill, Danny found himself in an unanticipated situation. So far on this trip, he had planned his bowel movements to perfection, and keeping to his word, had not once paid to use a public toilet. These unexpected proceedings had taken Danny by surprise, and to our delight, Danny made the humbling walk to the station toilets. He actually managed to outmanoeuvre the toilet attendant on the way in, but was quickly apprehended upon his exit. I think the smell may have been a give away. Danny didn't have any change and conveniently neither did the toilet attendant. He was made to pay a full euro for the privilege of shitting in Montenegro. This put Danny in a bad mood and he scuttled off to buy some Chipsies and Mintos.
Keen for something a little more substantial, Catz and I eyed up the offerings in the station cafe. Burek, Burek and more Burek. Seeing as we had taken up residence here, and would be doing so for the next couple of hours, we each felt obliged to buy a slice. They obviously like their Burek well oiled in Montenegro. The grease was literally dripping from our fingers. As each bus pulled up, one of us would walk out into the car park and check the destination on the windscreen. We would invariable be waved back to our seats by one of the station attendants. Eventually our bus did arrive and we were waved onboard. |
The bus journey to Budva |
Budva bus station |
The only available seats were at the very rear of the bus. As we made our way down the narrow aisle, Danny's backpack came into its own, bounding from one head rest to another. He was attracting a lot of disapproving looks. This seemed of little concern to Danny who was still reeling from his toilet incident. Reaching the rear of the bus, we discovered why these seats were still vacant. They were barely attached to the floor, the last few fixings putting up a futile fight against the relentlessly bumpy roads. The seats in front of us were long gone, providing us with an easy opportunity to dump our bags. A short while into our journey, Danny's moans were put on hold by the arrival of two female backpackers. They seemed baffled by our desire to visit Albania, and to Danny's disappointment, hopped off at the next stop - a pretty seaside town.
The backpacker trail, it seemed, was running thin. As the bus emptied, and Danny tucked into his third roll of Mintos, the bus driver called back to us. Pushing Danny to the forefront of the situation, we made our way to the front of the bus. We sat down in some now vacant and far more stable seats. Another man, sitting a little in front of us, leant back and began talking to us. He asked us where we were going. Danny obligingly told him. Catz had already expressed his fear of becoming caught up in human trafficking, and was more reluctant to disclose details of our route. Before we knew it, Danny had accepted a handful of sweets from the driver and, more worryingly, accepted an offer of a lift into Albania. "I take you in my Mercedes" and "You come with me" were words which filled neither Catz nor I with confidence. |
The missing seats allowed plenty of leg room |
Danny had some issues with the narrow aisles |
Before long, the bus pulled up at a lay-by, and we were told to get out. Our new found friend joined us, and then the bus pulled away. We were now all very unsure about what we had got ourselves into. We found ourselves at a pretty little spot in the Montenegrin countryside, a small village nestled beneath us. The lay-by was adorned with a brightly coloured bus stop. I made the mistake of venturing inside in an attempt to shelter from the relentless sun. The stench of urine was almost unbearable. Danny made the most of the free toilet facilities.
Catz was now convinced he was going to spend the rest of his life as an Albanian prostitute and proceeded to try and thumb a lift. No offers were forthcoming, and before we knew it, the bus driver had returned in a battered old Mercedes. The four of us got inside, and we were soon on our way once again. We entered a small town, and stopped at a car park. Our friend from the bus got out, and we went to do the same, only to be told to stay where we were. The Boys Around the World were now feeling quite vulnerable. The three of us were squeezed into the back of an old Mercedes, in an unknown location, somewhere in Montenegro. Our driver returned, and offered one of us the opportunity to sit in the front. Catz and Danny unanimously turned to me. |
Danny with our friend from the bus |
Catz panics and tries hitching a lift |
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We were soon speeding through narrow country roads, the wheels screeching with every furious turn. After a while, we stopped beside a small village shop, and the bus driver/taxi driver/people smuggler turned to us and said "pivo". It took us a second to realise he was offering us a beer. We all nodded enthusiastically. As the driver disappeared into the shop we tried to convince ourselves that we were heading in the right direction. A minute later, and he had returned with three cans of beer and a coke for himself. My beer had some scum around the opening, and smelt of meat, possibly dog food. Ordinarily, there would be no way in the world I would have touched it, especially being a vegetarian. However, these were not ordinary circumstances. Tipping the beer down my throat, we continued on our way. Fifteen minutes later we spotted the Albanian border up ahead. Relief spread amongst the car. The possibility of our driver being a people smuggler was still there, but at least there was a chance he was taking us where we wanted to go - the Albanian border town of Shkodra. |
Danny and Catz imagine a life of prostitution |
Ise puts on a brave face |
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Parking at the border control point, our driver took our passports and left the car. Despite urging him to the contrary, Danny decided this was a good opportunity to bring out his camera. Perhaps he was trying to capture evidence or perhaps he just wanted photos of the guard’s impressive armory. Whatever the reason was, the guards weren't happy about it and before we knew it, Danny had a gun pointing through his partially open window. Winding down the window to allow the gun better access, Danny tried talking his way out of trouble, whilst Catz and I kept very very quiet. The guard proceeded to take the camera and retreat inside his hut. We could see our driver having an animated conversation with the guards, obviously trying to get Danny off the hook. The guard returned with the camera, and demanded Danny to delete the photos he had taken. Handing us back our passports, Danny found he was missing his personalises passport holder. Rather than see this as a small sacrifice for what could have been a whole lot worse, Danny proceeded to call back the border guard, who retrieved his passport holder and thankfully let us continue on our way. Next (Albania) |
Catz always feared the worst at border crossings |
Two more for the Albanian sex industry |
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