On entering Montenegro at the very basic Tivat airport the queues for passport control were adorned with sketch pictures of the Lustica Coast.  You can imagine images of blue seas, yachts and modern apartments.

In my head I allocated the thought of a visit to the bottom right of the map.  I spent yesterday exploring the top half of the map.

This morning I started slowly.  A cold night of interrupted sleep, not helped by a bird outside my window squeaking throughout the dark hours.  Feathered variety, I should add.

Eventually I shifted myself to the wing mirror damaged Citroen and headed towards Kotor, but this time swinging right on arrival to head straight back out of town towards a newly opened road tunnel that I’d read about online.

The tunnel is so new that it still has rock dust floating within and visibility was significantly inhibited for the duration.  Exiting the other side a few miles later I easily found the road to Lustica!  A peninsula that faces inwards to the beautiful Bay of Kotor and outwards to the Adriatic.

In truth I was disappointed.  It’s not that there aren’t great views, but the construction levels are quite high and the views just didn’t compare to the magnificence of the previous day and the outlook I get from my apatment’s garden.

I went.  I saw.  I liked.  But not enough to invest.  I left.  Avoiding the tunnel I topped up with fuel, saved from sticking unleaded into the diesel tank by a lovely petrol attendant.  I tipped him all my loose change and he seemed delighted with the extra 70c.

The main thoughts now are around what to do tomorrow.  I leave the apartment at 10am.  The airport is twenty minutes away by suicidal roadway and the flight leaves after 5pm.  Allowing for Avis damage assessment, security and lounge I reckon I’ve got five hours to kill.

How My Illness Has Turned Into an Inappropriate Sense of Entitlement