Yesterday’s Heat Wobbly is today’s Walking Boots’ Hissy Fits

Durmitor National Park comprises 39,000 acres, is surrounded by the two rivers Piva and Tara, has 23 mountain tops over 2300 meters in altitude and 82 km of the Tara Canyon which has an altitude of 1600 meters above river level.  Since 1980 both the Park and Tara Canyon have been under the protection of UNESCO.  You can imagine why we wanted to visit.

Arriving late afternoon, it will be no surprise to you that we found accommodation very quickly.  Having parked up in the middle of Žabljak car park where the small local tourist office is situated in a small wooden chalet, as we were coming out a man driving through stopped us in our tracks (obviously noting the UK car plates) and handed us one of his business cards for his campsite.  Speaking to him through his car window, we asked if his campsite had bungalows which he said it did, so we followed him in the Poacher 1.5km to his campsite for a look see.  The good news was that it was close to Black Lake. The bad news that I didn’t have to peek very far into the bungalow, which was a really badly disguised Nissan hut, to see the shower cubicle to decide it was not for me.  Luckily for me Steve told the owner that we really wanted somewhere in town with a bar within walking distance and ‘lovely as it was’ it was too far out from the centre for us.  The owner tried to ply us with local hooch and wine, thinking of every trick in the book to keep us there, but we were eventually able to make a successful getaway. 

Returning to town, driving up the main road, our second attempt to find accommodation was totally successful at the Summit Tourist Agency also housed in a wooden chalet office, which is pictured behind the 1989 Landrover with the inflatable on its roof.  They offered us an open plan apartment a few metres away, which is behind the Poacher, conveniently located with three restaurants/bars across the road and spitting distance of the centre. The weather wasn’t much cooler in the mountains, which was a slight disappointment to me, but luckily the apartment being sub-basement was very cool.  In fact, so cool we had to put the heating on after the first night! As Steve always says “it’s much easier to warm up, than it is to cool down”.

We unpacked and I inspected the toiletries I’d brought with.  Yes, I remembered toothpaste and toothbrush, but the minute I took out my electric toothbrush, it flashed an intermittent red warning that it required recharging. Yes, I decanted just enough of some of my Molton Brown Shower Gel to last me for a few days but Steve hadn’t packed any shower gel for himself which he usually does so my precious shower gel had to be sparingly shared.  We decided to walk the short distance into the centre, window shop the two ‘fashion’ shops I’d spotted from the central car park and then find somewhere for dinner.

One of the two shops sold shoes, Steve spied a pair of walking boots in the window saying how much I needed a sensible pair for the next few days and encouraged me inside to look around whilst he waited outside with Stella.  I had hoped, being in a ski resort, there might be shops with clothing and shoes I couldn’t afford in really funky styles, fabrics and colours that tempted me to make insane purchases, but sadly in Montenegro that was not to be.  I could afford the walking boots and made a reluctant purchase, blowing the cobwebs off one of my credit cards, knowing there were no alternative shops.  

Noting how many buzzing things there were in the apartment, before bedtime, I closed all the windows, enthusiastically sprayed my supplies of aerosol bug killer around the room and mosquito repellent inside the bed. My efforts were rewarded, no bites during the night, we woke up refreshed and thought the number of ‘dead bodies’ on the floor was quite impressive. Barely needing to lock the apartment we crossed the road to have an ‘English Breakfast’ and plan our next few days. Together we decided:

• Day one we would walk the kilometre to Black Lake and then the circuit around it, which is supposed to be a spectacular experience. 
• Day two, we would go white water rafting and, if there was enough time left in the afternoon, go to look at the Stecci. 
• Day three, we would drive around the Durmitor Ring and make our way to the final National Park on our ‘hit list’ Biogradska Gora.

Itinerary sorted, we returned to the apartment to change into our walking gear. I began to have a slight hissy fit (I think a slight hissy fit is similar to being slightly pregnant) that I didn’t like the boots. They were ugly and noway as chic or similar in style to my Caterpillar pink and grey suede ones that I’d left behind because most of our storage in the caravan is earmarked for fishing gear. Both boots laced to the top, stopping a few times on the way to loosen the laces as my feet began to perspire in their synthetic encasements, we began our kilometre walk to Black Lake.

Black Lake, Durmitor National Park, is one of Montenegrin’s premium tourist attractions and is the best known as one of the largest of 18 glacial lakes. Located at the foot of the mountain Medjed peak, this lake consists of two smaller lakes: Big and Little Lake. Those two lakes are connected by a narrow strait, that dries in summer time, creating two completely separate lakes. More than 3 km long to walk around the lake, it’s popular for hiking and recreation. Really? We’ll see about that!

Arriving at the park we walked past a lake with quacking frogs.  We recognised the sound because we heard the same at our Spanish campsite Cabopino, opposite us on the other side of the fencing to the outdoor pool, and were never able to spot either a duck or frog or where the sounds were coming from. In fact, no matter how slowly we crept with cameras at the ready, the sound always ceased as we got anywhere near the source. The quacking sounds the frogs make are really similar to ducks, but here the sounds are punctuated with the odd bullfrog belch.

We got our 3€ pp entry tickets (all the national parks have the same fee) and walking through the stalls either side of the pathway trying to sell their local produce to the few tourists. Seeing a proper concrete path and people in also sorts of walking gear including flip flops I wished I had worn my normal walking shoes and told Steve so. 

Our starting point was the main bar and restaurant. Deciding on a clockwise direction, we headed for a wooden bridge passing a family curious about something in the water just to the side of it. We began our walk of Black Lake.

At the start we followed the path which soon changed to forest ground which was dry with tree roots embedded to negotiate. Not a quarter of the way around we came across a large patch of mud, far too wide to jump over -my long jump days long behind me. I stomped into it one foot quickly following the other full Vicar of Dibley style but the ugly synthetic waterproof boots kept me dry.  Nothing to winge about except that my feet breath in leather and don’t perspire but sweat a lot in synthetics especially in the heat so I made the most of that.

Then to my knees’ dismay I realised the so called path around the lake wasn’t all lake level or flat and in many areas wasn’t clear to see which way to go.  The path we were following terminated without warning and we had to negotiate steep climbs and descents up the sides of the Medjed Mountain woodland.  In my head I knew the quicker we got round, the quicker I could be at the bar.

We came across what looked like to me a sheer drop.  Walking to the edge I could see a set of deep stone steps almost vertical.  There was a strong blue handrail mostly secured to the side of the mountain which indicated to me the level of danger or the level of achievement once negotiated.  Steve said he would get Stella down first and then come back for me.  I was half way down in my quest to reach the bar, before Steve was able to come back for me. Obstacle successfully negotiated, no turning back for us, the three of us continued.  We came across a pretty waterfall and had to wade through the shallows to get to the other side.  That was pretty and fun and my waterproof boots kept me dry and from slipping.  I was beginning to appreciate them. There were people in canoes on the lake admiring the view of the waterfall.  At that point I was willing to sell my soul to swap places with anyone in any of the canoes and even do the paddling.

We then came across a second waterfall, this time the path across was a bit deepe,r but all three of us got safely across, still dry.  I thought that was it.  I was wrong.  There was a third waterfall which was wider and deeper. I couldn’t be asked.  I strode across in my waterproof boots, which I found out are not waterproof if you’re in water up to your calves and you don’t care anymore.  On the other side I found a stone to sit on, I took my boots off turning them upside down to drain out buckets of water, then my socks off which I wrung out.  Huffing and puffing I put them back on, and ‘sloshed’ as I walked hoping I wouldn’t get blisters. 

Guess what, yup, another two waterfalls to negotiate, each one deeper and wider than the previous.  I didn’t bother draining out the water any more building up my hissy fit and making the most of it.  By this time my boots were loose only laced up to the ankle and not over the ankle. I later found out there are usually seven waterfalls created from the melting ice, but only five existed during our visit. That made me feel no better, wet feet don’t get any wetter. Here are images of the waterfalls from the other side.

Almost three quarters of the way round, legs and knees aching, unknowingly we missed a turn ending up at the lake edge a boulder in front of us and no way to negotiate around it.  Or so we thought. We turned around to find an alternative route and were met by a young Hungarian family whose husband convinced us we could all climb up the steep face in front of the boulder, which neither Steve nor I had spotted, just a dead end.  Laci, his wife and their two daughters were already at the top.  I had my doubts about getting Stella up as it looked pretty much vertical to me, but Steve said she would be OK so I scampered up encouraged by Laci holding onto a branch with one hand for his own safety and extending out his other hand out for me to grab for my safety. I was not going to be outdone by his daughters aged 12 and 15 no matter what the age difference was. My competitive spirit is still very much alive and active.  There’s nothing worse than having a great moment and no-one to see it.  Steve was so engaged in prepping Stella for her first mountain climb, that he completely missed my gazelle like ascent.  Steve with Stella balanced in front of his long legs were next.  It took quite a bit of encouragement from all of us to talk Stella to the top, each of us holding on to anything to avoid falling off the edge, but with Laci clearing branches in Stella’s prospective path and both girls engaged in ‘Stella, you can do it’ we were on the home stretch to the restaurant and well deserved liquid rewards at the bar. It was then that I recognised the family as the one we had seen right at the beginning looking into the lake, some four hours prior. What they were watching were water snakes.

Spending an hour’s rest at the restaurant, sharing the same table, drinking each other’s health and toasting future enjoyable travels.  They were from Budapest and we told them that was where Steve took me for our first trip in May 2013 after having only been together for a week. As always with fellow travellers we had loads to talk about, experiences to exchange, places to recommend and not enough time.

We said our good byes to our new Hungarian friends, wished them well and said how we hoped our paths would cross again. At that point little did we know we had a very pleasant surprise in store.

We set off that morning around 11 and by now it was gone 5pm. I had just enough energy (determination) to walk the last kilometre back to our apartment in a non-stop automated mechanical fashion. I didn’t dare drop the pace in case I ground to a halt and didn’t make it back. I unlocked the door, surveyed the growing number of ‘dead bodies’ on the floor, sprayed some more insect killer, slumped on the bed and kicked off the walking boots. I must admit I got up from the bed to throw them in the bin never wanting to wear them again, but had second thoughts about that being rather childish and retrieved them. I would store them in the Poacher and never wear them again. When Steve proof reads my work he isn’t always thorough so I’m hoping he doesn’t spot that the walking boots in the back of the Poacher are gathering dust.

EDITOR’S NOTE OF THANKS

My thanks to Steve who on this occasion took all of the photos

View from the Cockpit

We’re living in a 7m x 2m box. Its amazing how we have got on despite the raging heat and stress that this lifestyle occasionally gives me. On reflection we’re allowed a little ‘me’ time which we both recognise and step back to let the other breath. What this trip has done is strengthen our relationship and understanding of each other even more than when we set off, if that were possible. The more we travel, the closer we get and I just want to keep travelling.