Day 221 – Bari, Italy – 7:09 PM

My only stop in Montenegro was the coastal town of Kotor. First mentioned around 170 BC, the area now known as Kotor was referred to as Ascrivium and fell under the Roman province of Dalmatia. Nearly 600 years later, Roman Emperor Justinian constructed fortress walls on the hillsides above Ascrivium to deter enemy forces. In the 15^th century, Kotor became part of the Venetian Republic and remained so for the next three hundred years. Venetian influence can be widely seen in the architecture of Kotor and is the primary reason why it was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1979.

Towering skyward from the ridgeline that sandwiches Kotor against the Bay of Kotor are massive limestone cliffs.  These formations immediately attracted my eyes when I arrived earlier this week.  Thoughts of hiking among them became my number one priority.

I walked from the bus station to Old City Hostel and checked into a six-bed room I reserved a few nights prior.  It was just after 10am and I decided to relax a bit before exploring the network of alleys that make up the old city.  I sat on my bed and opened a map application on my phone.  I zoomed in on Kotor until the breadcrumb paths that indicate hiking trails appeared.  Multiple paths emerged and my eyes focused on two, one on either side of the U-shaped coastline west of Kotor.

Option 1 would take me up a series of switchbacks to a straight-line trail that ran along a ridgeline.  The trail terminated at a peak but the application was unable to provide me an estimated elevation of the crest.  I was also unable to find additional information on the Internet.  In my mind that meant the peak was not anything special and perhaps a better option existed.

Directly across the Bay of Kotor from Option 1 existed Option 2.  The latter began on the tourist tread stairs that ascended the aforementioned walls built during the 15th century.  An offshoot trail began near the top of the stairs.  My eyes followed the path as it snaked up a considerable number of switchbacks.  From there it straightened and intersected a road.  I traced the road westward until another trail appeared and led to Pestingrad viewpoint at an altitude of 3,600 feet.

I debated the two options as I laced up my sneakers and descended from my third floor room into the cobble stone lined alleyways of Kotor.  I visited the Maritime Museum and a few other points of interest as morning faded into afternoon.  After an inexpensive lunch, I meandered to the waterfront to gaze upon the Bay of Kotor and the slow crawl of boats in and out of port.  A massive cruise ship sat broadside to a large pier.  It dwarfed boats that would normally appear large to most onlookers.  I found a nearby park bench and sat down under the mid-afternoon sun.  Straight ahead, across the Bay of Kotor, rested Option 1.  Behind me was Option 2.  My eyes swung between the two hiking trails as I tried to decide which would be graced with my footprints.  Option 1 seemed straightforward: a few switchbacks and then a walk along a ridgeline.  It would surely provide me stunning views.  However, Option 2 appeared a bit more challenging and challenges are what I seek out on this journey.  Over a dozen switchbacks ascended a valley and the elevation would provide a much better view than Option 1.  I was sold, Option 2 it was!

I did not know exactly how long the route was so I needed to begin early.  I decided to depart Old City Hostel at 5am.  Before heading to bed I gathered a few belongings: camera, extra battery, zoom lens, raincoat as the chance of rain was forecasted, pocketknife, traveling first aid kit and snacks.  I piled everything in my backpack and drifted off to sleep shortly after 9pm.

I woke before my 4:30am alarm the next morning.  I stood up from my bed and peered out the window.  Clouds hung over the craggy peaks and that gave me some concern.  I debated about scraping the plan and heading back to bed but I needed some time in nature and forged ahead.  I threw on a pair of shorts and t-shirt, grabbed my backpack and headed down to the first floor kitchen for a quick bowl of cereal.  Once finished, I threw on my backpack and walked into the pre-dawn solitude.

The narrow alleyways were quiet save for a few cats roaming around looking for scraps dropped from the plates of restaurant goers the previous night.  I walked towards the entrance to the castle wall staircase eager to get started yet nervous about the latter stages of the trek.  I did not know the total mileage I would accumulate, whether rain would become an issue nor exactly where the Pestingrad viewpoint was along the coast.  I hit the first step hoping the miles, weather and views would leave me with a feeling of accomplishment.

I was the only one on the staircase that morning and had the climb to myself.  Every so often I looked back as I ascended. The Bay of Kotor, its surrounding towns and villages along with the mountains that scraped the sky left me mesmerized.  The sun had yet to rise over peaks and the area was shrouded in an early morning haze.  I made out the faint shape of a cruise ship rounding the far corner of the bay as it crawled towards the Port of Kotor.  I stopped at a few lookouts to photograph the landscape that unfolded before me.  I even managed to find a number of flat surfaces to rest my camera upon in order to take a timed photograph of myself.  As a solo traveller, I am often not in many photographs because I am usually the one behind the camera.

I continued further up the staircase until I came upon what appeared to be the last remaining wall of a structure from centuries ago.  The stones were placed in such a manner that large rectangular holes acted as windows.  A small sign next to one hole read “Sveti Dorde Church” and under it appeared an arrow pointing towards the window.  I looked through the hole and sure enough a dirt track appeared and I traced it with my eyes as it ascended the valley.  That must be my track.  I pulled out my phone and opened my map application.  Sure enough Sveti Dorde Church was along my route.  I climbed through the hole in the wall and grew comfortable with the fact that every step from that point forward was into the unknown.

A few switchbacks later I came upon Sveti Dorde Church.  An antiquated stone structure stood tall amid a field of grass. A small stone arch adorned with a crucifix sat at the apex of its roof that carried a thin layer of grass. A plain, metal fence stood in the doorway and blocked my entrance.  However, I peered through the bars and gazed upon a simple two stone altar. After a few minutes I decided to carry on not knowing what might cut into my time.  For the next couple hours I zigzagged up the valley. The sun eventually crept high enough in the sky to shine upon the ridgeline on the opposite side of the Bay of Kotor; the exact ridgeline I would have been walking if I chose Option 1.  Here I was, still in the shade and putting miles between myself and Kotor.  I viewed it as a stroke of good luck, whether I intended it or not.

I eventually reached the pass that separated the valley I had traversed from the smaller gorge that awaited me.  The sun rose high enough in the sky to flood the trail with light and cause temperatures to rise.  I looked skyward and small, white clouds floated in the distance.  Not a rain cloud in sight!

I continued into the second valley, the majority of which was protected by forest canopy.  The well-worn trail, marked by red blazes on nearby tree trunks, carried me along.  I crossed over a footbridge yards beyond the former Austrian-Hungary border checkpoint.  In the mid-19^th century, this point marked the southern border for the Austrian-Hungary Empire. Armed forces of the empire often clashed with Montenegrins and their Russian allies over control of the area including the Bay of Kotor. The remnants of the forgotten stone structure were overrun with brush and moss, yet piqued my curiosity about the stories it would tell if walls could talk.

I eventually worked my way from one side of the valley to the other and out from the forest canopy.  Dirt gave way to rock and gravel as I ascended.  This section of trail was inundated with sunshine and I built up a layer of sweat.  I stopped for a short break and took a few sips of water.  I pulled out my phone and calculated the distances remaining.  A half-mile separated me from the road. That left one mile to the second trailhead and one-and-a-half miles until Pestingrad.  1.5 miles, that’s all I had left.  However, those 1.5 miles were not on flat ground.  I carried on.

I eventually reached the road and felt a slight measure of accomplishment.  I was not yet to the viewpoint but I had covered a considerable distance.  I turned left and covered the next half-mile with relative ease. I took another left onto an off-road-vehicle track that turned into a trail once again.  This trail was not as worn in as the first.  Luckily, it was still well blazed with the painted red stripe.  I was approaching the 6.2-mile mark and knew the Pestingrad viewpoint lie just beyond.

The trail dropped down into thick underbrush and skirted around Derinski vrh, a nearby peak.  The heat of the morning had yet to break through the tree tops and the grass I plodded through dampened my shoes.  I glanced down at my watch and the digital readout read 10:05am.  I calculated it was 0.5 miles from the start of this second trail to the viewpoint and I was approaching that mark.  I was eager to rest, take in the views and dig into the apple stowed away in my bag.  I passed a few more red blazes and the trail emerged from under the cover of trees. I walked another couple yards onto a rocky outcropping with a sheer drop off on two sides.  I made it! All told, it took me just over 4 hours and 30 minutes to hike the 6.25 miles from Kotor to the Pestingrad viewpoint. It was challenging but well worth it.

I took off my pack and placed it on the ground.  I sipped from my water bottle and walked around the small viewpoint looking off into the distance.  I was shocked how much elevation I had gained.  I tilted my eyes down and onto the Option 1 ridgeline.  Yeah, Option 2 was definitely the right choice.  I gazed upon a number of different towns and villages that lined the Bay of Kotor. Off to my left stretched the Adriatic Sea.
After a few moments I turned to reach for my apple when I heard something shuffle into the brush between a few rocks.  I looked a little closer and a Balkan Green lizard sought protective cover from my presence.  It measured around eight inches long and seemed harmless.  We sat together for a few seconds until he scurried off out of sight.  I looked behind me at Derinski vrh and a few other taller peaks and noticed dark clouds quickly approaching.  They looked like rain clouds and I knew I was only halfway into my journey.  I still needed to traverse down through the valley and retrace the numerous switchbacks before I was out of the woods.  I decided to forgo my apple and descend.

I followed the same path off Pestingrad and skirted around Derinski vrh once again.  I made it back to the road as the clouds inched towards the valley below.  I wanted to descend before the rain but the conditions would not allow it.  The trail leading from the road to the forest is a rocky scramble that left me unsure of every step.  I needed to take my time and avoid injury, which would leave me in a world of trouble.

I successfully navigated the rocky portion and made good time through the forested section.  I came to the pass that led down to Kotor and worked my way towards the switchbacks.  I turned a corner and yards ahead I say a family of cows sitting on the trail eating their afternoon lunch.  I peered a bit closer and noticed two young calves.  Great! I’d take my chances skirting by adult cows but not with two calves nearby.  Their pointed horns would do a world of damage if they perceived me as a threat.  I took another two steps closer and one adult stood up and looked at me.  Okay…that’s close enough.  I needed to think of a new plan.  Fifteen yards or so separated me from the family of cows. I yelled, clapped my hands and threw rocks into the nearby brush.  Nothing managed to scare them off into the brush.

The section of trail I found myself on skirted along the side of a ridge line; a slope dropped off to my right and climbed to my left.  I needed to go off trail, maneuver around the graceful, horned beasts and find the trail again.  I looked down the slope to my right.  It was not particularly steep and provided ample trees for me to move amongst.  I pulled out my pocketknife because in my mind it would fend off a charging bull.  You’re probably rolling your eyes as you read this.  I’m well aware my small pocketknife would be futile in a battle with a bull; but, it was all I had.

I gingerly stepped off trail while trying to avoid sudden movements. I attempted to make as little noise as possible as I moved down the slope in a forward-diagonal direction. I heard the bells around the necks of the adult cows jangling. They did not appear to be walking in either direction. Good, hopefully they’ll continue to eat where they sat and let me continue on. Once I felt I had put enough distance between them and myself I started to climb the embankment. The trail was not hard to find and I quickened my pace to leave the nice cow family behind. Surprisingly, a local woman appeared soon after with a metal detector. She was walking towards the cow family and I gave her fair warning of what lay ahead. She raised her eyebrows in surprise and continued on. I hope she made it around the cows safely and stumbled upon some gold or silver along the way!

I hit the switchbacks and crossed my fingers that the last few miles were uneventful. Dark clouds continued to move closer and sat low over the Bay of Kotor. Claps of thunder sounded and I moved a bit quicker towards my hostel. I meandered along the zigzagging trail motivated by visions of ice-cold beer and a plate of food. Lunch was not too far off. I dropped 1000 feet along the switchbacks and entered the old city steps around 1pm. Miraculously, the rain held off and the sun appeared at times as I descended the staircase towards Kotor. Tourists braving the afternoon heat passed by with their eyes looking upward. I crossed the last few steps until my feet once again rested on the cobblestoned pathways of the old city. Straight ahead was a restaurant I frequented the previous day for breakfast. I walked forward and fell into a seat on their outdoor patio. A waiter approached with a smile and asked if I would like something to drink. “Yes, I’ll take a half liter of the coldest beer you have!”