Back at the start of this year I set myself a goal: to go on a solo hike with nights in a tent. A tent, a stove, food with a mountain view and all that.
Instagram kept feeding me photos and reels: someone hiking the Alps somewhere in Germany, someone else hiking on the Faroe Islands. And I decided it was time for me to head to the mountains too. Unfortunately, I live in Serbia, and getting a Schengen visa from here takes an unbelievable amount of effort and money.
First I found some people who run group hiking tours and went with them to Bosnia and Herzegovina. But I didn't like the format at all. The group was a very mixed crowd. The guides didn't really give us time to just enjoy the nature. And the people around me spent the whole trip talking about their problems. I never got to rest. So I decided I needed to find a quiet place and go alone. All I wanted was silence and rest: no guides, no chatter, just mountains.
Together with Claude, I spent a long time researching where I could go to fit into a week of vacation, not rush anything and not overpay for visas. The choice fell on Montenegro, Prokletije National Park.
Without a car, the route turned out to be tricky: a bus from Belgrade to Podgorica, then another bus from Podgorica to Gusinje, and from Gusinje to Vusanje, where I planned to stay, 6 km on foot, mostly on smooth asphalt and a bit of dirt road.
I had no real idea what Prokletije was until the hike itself, even though I'd lived in Montenegro for almost a year. I read the first few links on Google, looked at the pictures and decided to go. I put together a rough plan, again with Claude.
I researched the gear and bought a backpack, a tent, a sleeping bag, a stove, gas and cutlery. I made a list of food, clothes and small things to bring. I'll describe the gear at the end.
I didn't look at specific trails. I just found a campsite with meals and a stunning view of the mountains and decided I'd stay there and figure out where to go once I got there.
I bought the bus tickets, booked the campsite and waited for my vacation.
Not researching the trails in advance turned out to be a mistake. But more on that later.
Vacation finally started. The trip began in Belgrade, and the first obstacle was waiting for me right there, at the main bus station.
I got there forty minutes before departure and went to figure out how to get onto the platform, and which one.
To get onto the platforms at Belgrade's main bus station, you need a separate ticket. I knew that. What I didn't expect was having to buy it at the ticket office, after standing in a line of twenty-plus people.
First I went looking for a ticket machine. There is one too, it even works and sells tickets with no line, but there's no platform ticket in the menu, only bus tickets.
So I had to join the line. By the time I got to the front it was already 18:55, and the bus was leaving at 19:10. The platform ticket cost 300 dinars.
I headed to the platform. It was 18:58. I was just walking up to it when the bus started pulling away right in front of me. I waved my arms and ran after it, backpack and all. Caught it and managed to jump on. As it turned out, buses in Serbia don't stick to the timetable anywhere on the route except the first station, they just move on.
P.S. Buy your bus ticket at the ticket office, on the station's official website bas.rs or at the ticket machine: then platform access is included in the price, with no line. And get to the station an hour early.
After that, though, I got lucky. The bus was brand new: it smelled of new seats, the interior was spotless, and on a huge 50-seat bus there were only five of us. The whole ride was perfectly comfortable: the air conditioning worked and, best of all, there was no Serbian music playing.
It was about 3:45 when I woke up to the harsh glare of streetlights. I looked out the window, looked at the clock. Thought: "Huh, this city looks a lot like Podgorica." I'd lived there for almost a year. But it's only 3:45, and we're supposed to arrive at six. Can't be.
I opened Google Maps. Yep, it was Podgorica. The bus was almost 3 hours ahead of schedule.
And there I am, standing at the Podgorica bus station with a twenty-kilo backpack. Everything's closed, I haven't booked a hotel, the bus to Gusinje isn't until 8:45, and every bench inside the station is taken by sleeping tourists.
At first I just put the backpack in a corner. But there's no luggage storage at the station, so when I went wandering, I had to haul all twenty kilos with me. For a while I walked around the station and the area. Strolled over to the train station, it's right next door. Waited for the nearest bakery to open at 5:30 and went for breakfast.
Kiflice, still warm, with cheese and with jam, and a yogurt. I was so hungry I didn't even get around to taking a photo.
While I was eating on a bench, the nearest kafana opened, and I went there for a coffee.
At that early hour, it was where the postmen gathered for coffee and a smoke. Every one of them in a yellow shirt, dark trousers and a brown bag. All of them no longer young, grey-haired, some with a decent bald patch. With every minute there were more of them, until there were about ten. It all looked like old friends getting together for coffee as a big group on a weekend morning.
After my coffee, I went back to the station and waited for the bus.
To my surprise, the bus, though small, was comfortable and had working air conditioning. There were few people, and for almost the whole ride I had both seats to myself.
The ride to Gusinje took four hours. The farther we got from Podgorica, the more beautiful it became: the mountains higher and higher, fewer and fewer cars on the road.
The bus arrived in Gusinje on time. It was a very warm but not hot day. Straight off the bus I went to the supermarket to stock up on food and water for the first days: I had no idea what to expect from the campsite. I bought a few cans of beef goulash, a can of tuna salad, pasta, onions and bananas, plus a couple of bottles of water and one beer.
I loaded everything into my backpack and a tote bag and set off for Vusanje. The backpack now weighed about 25 kg, but thanks to its load-distribution system it didn't feel too heavy.
The road to Vusanje is mostly asphalt, running through a valley. Bluish mountains on every side, a small river flowing on the right. I stopped by it to rest and cool my feet. Took another break in the shade of a big oak. Along the way I came across cows, and sometimes sheep and donkeys. It all looked like the beginning of The Lord of the Rings.
A little over an hour of easy walking, and at around 15:00 I was at the campsite.
The campsite pleasantly surprised me. On its grounds there are several guest houses and two levels of tent pitches. There are two showers with hot water, two toilets, a dishwashing area and an outdoor kitchen. The owners' house is there too, so they're on site around the clock.
I'd booked a tent pitch with meals: 25 euros a night. The price includes the pitch, toilets and showers, breakfast, dinner and a packed lunch to take with you, which you can pick up in the morning at breakfast.
All the food was cooked on site by the owners, mostly from homemade produce: really tasty homemade cheese, pastries, vegetables, beef, and no pork at all, which made me very happy. For that price, they feed you very well.
The owners are very friendly and take their work seriously. I didn't expect that level of service at a campsite in Montenegro.
On top of that, you can buy bottled water and other drinks right at the campsite. There's even cold beer, which comes in very handy after a long day of hiking.
First thing, I took a shower. Then I pitched the tent, inflated the mattress, laid out the sleeping bag, assembled the stove, turned my chair to face the mountains and started cooking beef goulash, sipping a beer. It was awesome.
Until dinner I just took in the views. After dinner I had tea with cantuccini I'd brought from Belgrade and went to sleep. What a long and wonderful day it turned out to be.
Coming soon.
Coming soon.
Coming soon.