Our Montenegro Day Trip: Deserted Destinations and the Best Dogs in the Balkans
Montenegro was the first stop on our January southeast Balkan road trip. We had picked up our car in Tirana, emptied our pockets of Albanian lek in Kruja, and driven on sketchy roads earlier in the day, and were excited to stamp in to a new country. Montenegro is typically a holiday centerpiece – pristine beaches line the Montenegrin riviera, and the Bay of Kotor is a highlight for many travelers in the region. We, on the other hand, had a quick Montenegro day trip from Albania, spending the night Virpazar. Not to mention the fact that we were in Montenegro, a destination whose popularity fluctuates drastically between seasons, in the dead of winter. It’s also among the last of the former Yugoslav nations David and I had yet to visit, so a 24 hour jaunt around the nation seemed apropos.
Virpazar, Montenegro
We arrived to the Albanian-Montenegrin border slightly before dusk. We quickly found out that Albania rules apply for roads in Montenegro, and spent the next two hours navigating a road that may have been more terrifying in daylight. Lots of hairpin turns and what felt like precipitous drop offs to Lake Skadar below later, we arrived to the town of Virpazar. Virpazar, Montenegro is a tourist hub in the summer for vacationers spending time on Lake Skadar. In summer, there are boat trips, hiking trails, and open wineries all around Virpazar. But we were there in January, and when we pulled in around 8:30pm, and it could have been two in the morning for all the activity (or lack thereof).
I woke up early the next day and played around with some long exposure wide shots on my new camera. Our apartment was located across an inlet from the main part of town, so I was afforded with gagworthy views as the town was blanketed by a new day’s light. 
A large Communist-era spomenik (or monument) looms large over the town, built on a delta at the northwestern terminus of Lake Skadar – sadly unphotographed as the light was not in my favor facing its direction. I headed into town to bear fruits of early morning photography, but was quickly distracted by two things. First: may I present Krystal, my Montenegrin lover:
Krystal lived in the main floor of our apartment building, and followed me around the whole town on my photo walk. To be fair, I’m pretty easily phased, but give me a cute puppy that’s well cared for in a developing nation and I melt.
Virpazar’s second distraction were some shuttered souvenir shops. I was ambling around town early, around 7:30am, so there was yet to be any commercial stirrings, but I kept my hopes up that the kiosks would expose their treasures to me after breakfast.
Our original plan was to take a boat to Grmozur, also known as Montenegrin Alcatraz, in the morning before heading to Stari Bar, then back to Albania. As it turns out, our contact in the area had to make a last minute run to Podgorica, Montenegro’s capital, that day so we were left planless. No worries, though – I had a date with souvenir kiosks and a mutty pup.
In short, Virpazar was a resounding success. After stuffing our cheeks with souvenir magnets, honey, and homemade quince liquor, we looked for food. The one open restaurant was actually a bar (we’d been hoping for eggs rather than rakija), so we had to come up with an alternate plan for our morning explorations. And so it is that there are perks to knowledge acquired in wanderlust-related internet wormholes, as I already knew a scattering of potential places to visit in the same relative area. We wouldn’t have time to see Pavlova Strana, Montenegro’s answer to Horseshoe Bend but without hashtags, so we headed to the coast toward a fortified beach town cum extravagant luxury hotel.
Sveti Stefan, Montengro
Sveti Stefan is about as spectacular of beach scene imaginable. Today it exists as a tiny spit of land, whose surface area is entirely covered by pristine medieval architecture (some of Sveti Stefan’s fortifications date to the 1500s), jutting into the Adriatic. I’d seen pictures before, but they don’t do Sveti Stefan justice. In summer (again, this is a theme here), the island is a luxury hotel. And I only say luxury because I don’t know if there’s a word for how opulent this hotel actually is. If I ever were to stay there, I’d have to drive my car off a Montenegrin cliff the next day because I’d know that life couldn’t possibly get any better.
In winter, luckily, the beach is deserted. Ragamuffins like my husband and I were free to roam the beach typically reserved for the uber-rich staying at the resort. An empty outpost of Nobu sat unused, and the promenade surrounding the perfect crescent beach around the island may as well have had tumbleweeds. We thought about walking the narrow causeway to the empty hotel, but a couple bruisers in tracksuits stood between us. Better to keep our distance, we thought.
We also happened to meet another great Montenegrin puppy ambassador at Sveti Stefan, who we dubbed Stu. Stu was great company, and was happy to romp around the beach with us. Stu was unfortunately still “in tact” as they say in the vet biz, so our play quickly devolved into something a little more…primal for Stu. Sensing it was our time to make a graceful exit, we packed up our things and started on the coastal road back toward Albania.
Stari Bar, Montenegro
From Sveti Stefan we hopped back in our whip and meandered our way toward Stari Bar, a place recommended to me by Zof over at The Picktures. The town of Bar itself is located right on the Adriatic, and is a beach town, say it with me now, in summer. Bar was charming in a Panama City Beach, spring break kind of way. I’m sure I’d be able to get down with Bar in balmysummer weather, but January had cast a thick gray blanket over the city as we passed through.
We were headed to Stari, or Old, Bar, a fortified old town in the mountains just inland from (new) Bar. Stari Bar was mostly shuttered when we walked through, but reminded us of other little pockets of concentrated tourist efforts we’d seen other places – like Prizren, Kosovo, or even Andryivski Descent in Kyiv, Ukraine. It would be a hot place to pick up souvenirs if you’re there during tourist season. We stopped in the one open restaurant, well-equipped with several space heaters, to drink a coffee and a beer. And I’d be remiss not to mention that there is actually a really lovely old castle at the top of Stari Bar. The main gates were closed for the low season, but we wandered around regardless. Our flagrant trespassing didn’t seem to bother the locals, who greeted us with smiles and cigarette smoke.
From Stari Bar we headed back toward Albania on the road we should have taken the night before. The main highway along the Montenegrin riviera (from Ulcinj to Kotor, and likely all the way to Herzeg Novi) in Montenegro is very well-surfaced, and I would recommend driving on it! You’ll fear much less for your life than if you were to take the alternative road skirting Lake Skadar (the dreaded P16).
Driving in Montenegro is a great option if you’re looking to be more flexible during your holiday. The best course of action is to talk to locals before you drive anywhere to get info on the state of local roads. We used Google Maps, like we had in Albania, and found it really didn’t have its Balkan road knowledge up to par. The shortest distance between two points, as it turns out, is often the longer route in the Balkans. I talked about this at length in my post on driving in Albania, so I’ll move on.
If you’re American, you may need an International Driver’s Permit (you can get them at AAA), but no one ever checked ours. If you’re entering Montenegro in your own car, you’ll need to purchase the correct insurance at the border. You’ll likely have the documents you need if you’re coming from the EU, you’ll need it if you’re coming from Albania, and I’m unsure about formalities when crossing into Montenegro from Kosovo or Serbia.
A day trip to Montenegro can actually be quite simple from Albania, but is only doable if you’re already in the north of the country (Shkoder was our loose base for this trip, as we passed through it both ways). You could easily see the hits of the southern Montenegrin coast in a day from Shkoder, or just as easily take a day trip into Podgorica from the north side of Lake Skadar (we did not take this route). If you’re ambitious, you could enter Montenegro at Muriqan-Sukobin, drive along the riviera via Bar, then cut through Virpazar and back into Albania via the border at Bozaj and Hani i Hotit. That’d be ambitious, though, and I cannot vouch for the entirety of that route.
Ultimately, we wished we’d had one additional night in Montenegro. We would have loved to actually take a boat trip to the smaller islands in the lake, as well as visit Pavlova Strana, but this would easily fill a day, especially when driving in uncertain conditions. Virpazar is a great, lesser traveled base in Montenegro, with easy connections to the coast, and to Podgorica. If I had all the time in the world, I’d also head up to Durmitor National Park and Ostrog Monastery – after we win lottery, I suppose!
