Chao, Montenegro! (day five)
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Today I decided to have a rest day. Don't go anywhere. Wander around the area. I was interested in the beaches beyond Mogren. It is impossible to get to them along the coast, but Maps mi showed some paths around.
Naive, trusted a bad piece of iron! At first they circled the streets in search of the beginning of the trail. We ran into a locked gate leading from one level to a higher one. This didn't bother us much. The city was still asleep, and we climbed over it unnoticed. Don't go back? We reached the end of the geography.
Where the houses ended, the path began. And then it ended in a dump. Local pigs, as it turned out, are not much better than our domestic ones. There were broken glass and whole window frames and other uncommon stuff. How can you shit in the most beautiful places?
The thorny blackberry bushes and others that grew here in abundance did not allow to get around this disgrace. We returned back to the houses and tried to ask for directions from a local resident. From his sparse explanations, I realized that the path was before, but then the locals decided to fill it up. Apparently, so that tourists do not roam.
I had to look for a track and follow it.
Passed over Mogren:
Next, the map promised us a fortress:
I'm not too interested in the ruins, so while the guys went to look at them, I decided to explore, but where does the path lead to? Isn't it to the beach?
Unfortunately, the path led me to a terrible cliff. I was even afraid to come close to the edge.
More paths went to the right and left, but it is unlikely that from such a height there is a descent to the sea, so I decided to return.
Someone's halabuda:
I was afraid that Vadik would climb to take a picture and fall off the cliff, so I said that there was nothing interesting there.
Fortress ruins:
The next long beach was a bit far, about 5 kilometers.
Walking along the road is a so-so event. Well him. We decided to go to Mogren. Through the store. But before going to the track, we found a blackberry and ate there. And further along the highway - no one's fig tree. We scored a kilogram of ripe figovins. Having bought wine in a store, we went to Mogren.
Vadik, wearing a mask, swam for prey beyond the cape. And I went to the cliff.
Having improved, she returned to Verka's husband, who was watching things. Vadik did not find anything worthwhile. Only a purple (or burgundy) star. But she is inedible. When the wine was over, further stay on the beach became dull. Well, swim, sit, swim, sit.
Let's go home!
On the way we went to the cafe where we ate a complex lunch. Vadik and I took, this time, a meat complex, and Verkin's husband freaked out and ordered something from the menu. Paid 17 euros. We spent 12 for two.
When I got home, I found that our balcony was not so beautiful after all.
It is wonderful here in the morning and in the evening, but on a hot afternoon... No canopy is provided here. You won't sit long. And the drinks will heat up instantly. Imagine what it's like here in July! I heard the temperature went up. Almost 50!
From nothing to do, we decided to sleep for a couple of hours. For many people, the siesta is sacred. I wasn’t used to sleeping during the day, but somehow I overcame it.
About five o'clock we moved to walk in the other direction. I saw on the map that somewhere nearby there is a monastery of the Assumption of the Virgin. That's where we went. Just woke up after wine. Kind of decent.
The monastery was found without much difficulty.
Hemp is in full bloom! We wouldn't grow. Drugs would smoke everything.
About smoking. Of course, it bothered me that everyone and everywhere smokes here. Even in cafes. I remember
in Croatia, nine years ago, I was surprised that the locals, including young girls, did not smoke cigarettes, but cigarettes. But not grass. I would have learned. I didn't notice it here. Just cigarettes. But that doesn't make it any easier. Well! Apparently, this is an old Balkan tradition. “Let's smoke our way, Brazilian way! » : )))
I read that even priests smoke in Greece. What seems savagery to us is in the order of things there. But the hemp grows itself!
I left the monastery on the way back. I wanted to go up the road. The sign promised a pond and a zipline. Far, really.
Fashionable "slender" architecture
Some khatynki here were wow! It was interesting to me,
how the local mountaineers live. There were practically no cars on the road. Take a walk, breathe in the fresh mountain air! But the lazy men did not want to breathe and, having walked a little more, we began to descend back.
We went to the monastery:
There was no one in the church except a guy in sweatpants. I asked him for permission to take a picture. He graciously allowed.
After that, began the service.
A novice, apparently. The day before we went to the church in the old town. We also served there. One priest read in Serbian (or Montenegrin? ), and the second dubbed in Russian (in the sense, in the Church Slavonic, as we are used to),
and there was no translator. Yes, and for whom? We were the only visitors. By the way, yesterday there was almost no one in the church either, only a couple of tourists. Montenegrins are not too devout!
Among the frescoes, this one caught my attention:
Into the crowd of false bishops, waiting for their turn to hellish torment, someone in military uniform wormed his way. Who could it be?
Having listened to the slightly unusual words of familiar prayers, they left. Poor unbelieving Verkin's husband was already waiting for us and wondered what we were doing there for so long?
On the way back, I decided to stop by a Russian grocery store. I read reviews about it on google maps. Here were presented products familiar to us, which you will not find in local stores. Somehow: vodka, Armenian cognac, sauerkraut, red caviar and even herring under a fur coat. There were also juices from the Odessa baby food factory with packages in Russian. Prices, however, are not ours.
We didn't take anything there. Soon we will return home, and there we will break away.
In the usual "Mega" bought a frozen risotto with seafood and beer. That's what they had dinner.
By the way, on the third or fourth day after arrival, in the corridor of the villa, I found the “Rules of Conduct”, where it was written that it was forbidden to fry fish and meat! Ha! And what for then, one wonders, is there a hammer for beating meat on the table? Knock on the wall for noisy neighbors? However, it was also impossible to make noise. Yes, we did not make noise. “Only Kolya barely knocked with a hammer on an iron pipe! " (with). But not! "Kolya hit the pot in the corner. KIR-PI-CHOM!!! " Shutka.
Even in our closet, I found an impromptu salt shaker made from a can of red caviar. I wonder if people brought caviar with them or bought it in a Russian store? The salt in our kitchen cabinet was heaps.
“And remember, deaths! "Sol" and "pier" with a soft sign.
And the "plate" and "fork" - bez! » : )))
