Woke up in a flooded river valley near a restored monastery. The washed out bridge meant that no cars would be passing through, we’d pitched our tents right on the dirt road. Hours long dirt climb, then a flash like rift in the landscape, a socialist industrial town with incredible architecture and Yugoslavia era cars, but it’s pouring rain so few photos. Running behind on time, squeezing next to trucks on a highway for an hour, then another million year asphalt climb to the border. We foolishly didn’t buy food thinking there would be shops once we crossed, running on fumes by 4pm.
Border easy. The woman stamping my passport turns to her colleague, I can’t understand precisely what she is saying but to me it translates into, Americans on bicycles on a shit day, now I’ve seen it all. No suggestion of the rain stopping. Incredible Montenegro dirt roads, truly spectacular but very rural, no resupply. That’s a problem. Grabbed a shortcut, wading through wildflowers, abandoned stone road, river trudging, following the gps track. Then another interminable dirt climb to the highway, pummeling sky.
Getting late we’re numb miserable hollow satisfied determination. At 7:30 arrived at a fucked little bar, nicest old guy running it. Delicious dinner but we don’t have any euros—we strategically didn’t mention that when we ordered—still flush as we were with Serbia dinars. Those garnered some frowns but then we sheepishly proffered our US dollars of which we had an abundance, he brightened and took dollars. Then at the end Brian bit into his half of a pepper we were served as a kind of finale to the meal and it was crazy hot, hilarious. $25 total for the two of us including beer.
Dark now. Very cold, high up, rumor of a guest house 7 miles away luckily downhill. Pitch black, hacking rain, can’t see shit, stray dog leaps out startled and I’m fishtailing locked wheels in a careering cone of light to avoid it, wondered if it was a dream until Brian confirmed it all the next day. Handlebars wobbling from shivering. But after some 4 miles saw lights and a bar, stopped and a young woman came out to ask in English if we needed help. Soaked to the center. They had guest rooms and let us pay in dollars, too. Beers, terrible music, raw sleep.
