A Black Feather, a Wedding Invitation, and a Race with a Hitchhiker

Day: 31 (Kotor, Montenegro to Ulcinj, Montenegro)

Average Speed: 16.3 km/hr (10 mph)

Distance Cycled Today: 85 km (52 Miles) 

Distance Cycled Total: 3136 km (1948 Miles)

Mood: Great

A rare sight in Montenegro... a bicycle.

I’m glad I stayed in Kotor last night. I could’ve gone further, but that was the place to stay.

After 30 kilometers of peaceful, traffic-free pedaling on (relatively) flat land around Kotor Bay, it would’ve been a shame to aim for anything further… because shit got real again today. 

Two things immediately came back with a vengeance: Traffic and Terrain. 

That's some serious cycling...

One of them I could do without. 

The mountains I described as “beautifully intimidating” yesterday met me with a kiss on the cheek and a slap on the ass. Don’t be fooled by a route that follows a coastline: it doesn’t necessarily stay at sea level- and today was proof of that. It was relentless. One moment I would be within water's reach, face-to-face with huge yachts and partying beachgoers. Kilometers later, those boats looked like mere toys and the people like tiny ants. Big ups and big downs nonstop. 

But I loved today. It was great. Sometimes, a 3 kilometer steep climb was offset by a 7 kilometer lazy descent. Other times a 5 kilometer lazy climb offered a 1 kilometer thrilling Downer. Relentless, for sure. But fair. 

Children are playing on this road??
I don't have the credentials to judge from a parent's perspective,
but c'mon!

And although I certainly wouldn't complain if tourists stopped darting from one town to the next in impatient vehicles, it has stopped bothering me. I’ve dealt with it before in the States… and now here. I was pampered with cycle paths until the Croatian border, and I’ve accepted that it’s not a thing anymore. Neither are road shoulders. But there’s nothing I can do about it. I very nearly bailed off of the bike today when an 18-wheeler passed and seemed to forget he had a trailer attached to him (closest call to date for me), but what can I do? Nothing. May as well enjoy. 

Some of these coastal towns look like a four-year-old
just got his hands on a Sim City game and went apeshit.

If this were someone’s first day of cycle-touring, I’d feel sorry for that poor bastard. Crazy climbs. Blazing heat. Insane traffic. 

If it were me on Day One, I’d book the next flight home. 

But it’s not my first day. To be honest, I’m slowly starting to feel… experienced. Not in a proud or cocky way- not at all- but Traffic? Heat? Non-Stop Mountains? 

That feather is already in the cap. It’s the black feather of a raven with a thin white stripe that reminds me of my place on the road… but it’s still a feather. 

Besides, it’s easier for me to get from one place to another on a bike than to try thumbing a ride like the absurd number of Millennial hitchhikers do, right? 

They’re all over the place. 

My favorite technique that I’ve seen is to have the good looking girlfriend pleading for free transport while her beau hides in the bushes, waiting to surprise the unassuming male motorist who thought he happened upon a cheap date. 

One solo guy I passed early on in the day held two different signs with two different destinations. 

Idiot, I thought. You need a girl and you need to pick a destination if you're going to get anywhere.

A few kilometers later, I realized we had a lot in common. 

Me and... ummm... these people. I see them every day.

Whereas bike-packers were everywhere throughout Scandinavia and Germany, they’ve slowly petered out. I’m back to being a rarity. A Belgian I spoke with last night mentioned that when he saw a couple of cyclists on the road, he thought they were crazy to pedal in such traffic. And I only saw two others today. Actually, I’ve seen the same couple for the last three days because we’re on the same route to Tirana and I pass them at some point every day. They even stopped for a selfie with me. I don’t know their names. I’ll ask tomorrow. 

The complete absence of bicycles in the area was best exemplified by two children who were mystified by my ride as I went into an electronics store to replace my earbuds that were tragically lost a few days ago. They politely waited for me to return before touching anything, but once I gave them a green light to go nuts, they had a field day. I won’t lie… I cringed when they shifted the gears and discovered how to let air out of the tires, but if my bike can handle the forests of Austria, it can handle some innocent curiosity. There’s really only one reason kids would be so curious about a bike: They haven’t seen one up close. 

Pink is the new black.

Let ‘em have their fun. 

Even if it’s like those moments where Mom went into the post office when you were a kid and you messed with every setting in her car while she gossiped with neighbors for 45 minutes. No harm done. Windshield wipers on high. Spanish music blaring. No big deal. 

Sure, it's a bit annoying when you need to pull over and re-inflate your tires, but whatever. Those squirts had fun. 

(Side note: My new earbuds are pink. So sassy.) 

It was indeed a short ride today- perhaps due to my 11:53 AM start (made it out before noon!), but a rewarding one. 

My shirt is supposed to be light grey... that's all sweat. 

On the steepest and longest of 
the climbs, a large group of tourists was gathered at the summit. And when they saw me pumping my way up, they started cheering for me. Big time. It was a proper celebration when I reached them. Their jubilance was so over-the-top that my own laughter slowed me down. 

And when I said “You all must be Italian!" it was their turn to laugh. 

I was right. 

They offered coffee and apples, and had no problem gathering around a sweaty mess of a human being for a photo-op while we all sang the U.S. National Anthem.

I would've Googled
"Is it okay to give puppies commercially produced marble cake?"
But my phone is out of data

It’s a rare moment when you meet a group of strangers for five minutes and they end up inviting you to the wedding they’re all attending in Albania, but that's what happened. I have the address in my pocket and I'm considering showing up. Besides, I barely ate at all today- gave my all my rations to a stray pup on the side of the road- and I could sure go for some Italian Wedding Soup. 

It wasn’t a long ride. It wasn’t a perfect ride. And I’m not champing at the bit to do that ride again. But it was pretty damn good. 

This place is full-on pirate themed.

And to top it off, I found an incredible hostel for ten bucks. The Pirate Hostel. I wasn’t even oriented when Jack from Melbourne and Oisin from Dublin invited me out to dinner. I hadn’t had a chance to change out of my sweaty clothes when the receptionist sat down on the couch with us and told us exactly where to go in order to make the best out of our stay. And I certainly wasn’t prepared for the endless free beer they offer from 9 PM to 12 AM. 

CHEERS FOR THE BEER,
MAUREEN CARDINALE!

Bear in mind I spent four times that price for a pirate themed campsite in Norway... and beer was not included. 

Hosteling is the way to go with the right mindset. I’d rather be here than in a stuffy hotel room. 

You get to meet so many people instantly. 

Like my new friend, Timo. 

Timo is on a hitchhiking tour. 

And as we started talking, I began to realize that I’d seen Timo before.

“Wait… were you by any chance holding two cardboard signs with two different destinations written on them just outside of Kotor? One for the town of Bar and another for...”

“I was.”

Dammit. 

Timo arrived to the hostel two hours before I did.  

And he still had both signs with him.
I lose.

P.S. 

Just doin' as the sign says...

And for once, I appreciated the honks from traffic!