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Pestered at the Pelikan or Barricaded at Budva.

MOLUNAT, CROATIA.

We're both awake several times in the night. Eventually, we give up at 6:30am. We're on the road by 7am. We head for the lake at Skadarsko deciding we'll have breakfast on route. The journey is fabulous, taking us up into the hills and down to the lake.

Our first port of call is Virpazar. Rosie is hardly out of the van before she's accosted by a man selling boat trips on the lake. Walking across the bridge, we're then stopped by a car trying to sell his hotel, boat trips and campsite. His hotel, The Pelikan, is the only one open so we call in for breakfast. The waitress asks us three times if we want a boat trip! She recommends a local speciality which is fritters, cheese and ham. We're expecting them to be together but the cheese and ham is on a plate, the donuts are in a bowl. There must be 12 of them! And the ham is very strong. A not to be repeated speciality.

The owner offers to phone his friend to open his campsite for us. We reply that We'll walk to see it. It must be 2 km away but he's waiting for us as we pass. The hard sell is too much for us so we decide to move on.

Podgorica is the capital so we look at that next. Along the way, fishermen are waving maps at us to stop and take a boat trip. The capital feels dirty so we move on to Cetinje. Much cleaner and nicer but no free parking so on to Tivat. However, that proves difficult. The route is back through Budva but it isn't. Within a mile or two of our destination we're turned back because the road is closed.

Bizarre because the detour is extreme. First, we have to return to Cetinje. Then, the road takes us through a newly built tunnel. The tunnel is built but the road isn't. A dirt track through it where my side is full of raised manholes. Fortunately, I don't encounter anyone coming the opposite way. The road down the other side is still being laid. I drive past steamrollers laying tarmac, encounter a dumper truck who stops and empies his load in front of me without warning and feel mighty glad when I hit a normal road surface again.

If only I'd known. The road then wound down to Kotor. The bend's are numbered, starting in the mid twenties. The views are stunning and at first we made good progress following a coach.

Until we encountered another Austrian coach coming up who bullied me into reversing uphill for 200 metres. By which time, other vehicles including a bus and several cars made sure that I had to reverse past them so they didn't lose their places in the queue.

At which point, we'd had enough of Montenegro and decided to return to Croatia. We called for lunch at a mall just before the border. One shop assistant knew Manchester, having worked for Emirates Airlines. Her overriding memories of her time on the airline we're of the amount of food available. She did say she thinks the British are a cheery race.

Customs is straightorward at both sides, the Montenegran policeman is very polite asking if we'd enjoyed our visit.

Our final destination is Molunat, on the coast just inside Croatia. We enjoy a quick swim to wash away the dirt of the day and enjoy a glass of wine in the quiet of the bay (after I'd moved the van to enable the owner to mow the lawn).

Although, of course, this has disturbed the little black flies. Rosie has to take her usual evasive action.

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