Well, final post from me after a blissful ten days in Montenegro…

Some of you may recall that I ended the last update with the promise of a surprise guest appearance.

Meet Matt.

For those not already acquainted, Matt is a fellow travel fan, cat lover and wine drinker who – for reasons known only to himself – has chosen to spend the last few months voluntarily hanging out with me.

As predicted, we’ve had a suitably lovely few days spent eating seafood, drinking wine and generally having a thoroughly bloody nice time. No arguments to speak of – engineered or otherwise.

In fact, the closest we had to drama was today’s ill-fated trip out to see Kotor’s famous Blue Cave by speedboat – the one thing I missed during my first stint in the town.

According to the internet, at any rate, it’s “supposed” to look like this. Does it fuck. Certainly not during our visit, at least.

As it turns out, beyond the sheltered confines of Kotor Bay, the sea conditions this morning were unseasonably – to use the technical term – rough as a badger’s arse.

What followed, as a result, was less a pleasant sightseeing excursion and more an extended exercise in maritime endurance.

I’m not saying I was in fear for my life exactly. Put it this way though: I definitely did not share the captain’s jaunty optimism that we would all make it to our destination and back with body, soul and – come to that – stomachs intact.

Bear witness – if you will – to our nightmarish descent into nautical hell… (I didn’t actually get any pictures of the cave itself – I was understandably rather preoccupied at the time documenting my own impending demise…)

Suffice to say, I won’t be booking myself on any more speedboat trips any time soon. Never before have I been quite so relieved to find myself standing on solid ground again. Nor, for that matter, has a port-side Aperol spritz ever proven quite so medicinal.

Other than that though, this has been a lovely trip in all its various incarnations – whether as part of a group, flying solo at a spa hotel, or coupled up on the coast.

The real star of the show, however, was Montenegro itself.

For such a tiny country, it somehow manages to cram an extraordinary amount into a remarkably small space. Coastline, mountains, lakes, forests, monasteries, old towns, wineries, hiking trails and absurdly picturesque bays – it’s all here.

Before I start sounding like the Montenegrin Tourist Board, however, it would be unfair to pretend that everything here is sunshine, seafood and Aperol spritzes.

Venture beyond the waterfronts and old towns (as I did through my long morning runs) and a different picture starts to emerge: apartment blocks that have seen better days; football graffiti vaguely reminiscent of gang affiliation; and other various indicators that not everyone is benefitting equally from the tourist boom here. The graffiti in red below, for example – daubed on a building scheduled for demolition – defiantly declares “our town” (thank you, long redundant university Russian).

As a visitor, it’s easy to fall in love with Montenegro. Living here full-time might be a rather more complicated proposition.

Still, Montenegro has an awful lot going for it. In any case, holidays are holidays, after all – and this one has well and truly broken my recent travel curse.

In the end, there were no bell-end tour guides, no inter-group factional disputes, and no outbreaks of any bus-seat related guerrilla warfare. Just nice scenery, good company and a ridiculous number of Aperol spritzes consumed along the way.

Not much of a reality show, perhaps.

Excellent holiday, though.

Until next time, Montenegro.