Not the mushrooms

by Lee Eustace (Ireland)

I didn't expect to find Montenegro

Glancing down quite sullenly at my increasingly tepid bottle of spring water, I had not expected it to be this warm by this point of the bus journey. It had been a fair while since its cooling effect had tempted me to press the bottle against my face. Instead, the bottle lay drably, two-thirds empty, in the virtually non-existent expanse of the seat between me and my girlfriend, Doireann: all the while our bus laboured through the Croatia-Montenegro border. Our bus ticket said that three hours into our journey from Dubrovnik we would be arriving into the station at Budva, where our airbnb host was to be awaiting our arrival. The reality was something different, though, as an hour’s delay at the station in Dubrovnik (where we thankfully had an internet connection to advise our host of the disruption) and an unexpected ninety minutes of inching our way across the border had brought us already to the three-hour mark. Montenegro seemed a long way away, as we had our first proper look at its landscape across the stretch of border. It looked as hot over there and the road no different. I was reassured, however, by the queue of cars over a kilometer long behind us. Clearly, we weren’t the only ones to make what seemed to be a mistake by making a border crossing journey at this time of the day nor were we the only ones to be excited about journeying to Montenegro. Twenty more minutes and a new stamp on my passport later, we were back on our rickety bus and on our way again. **************************************************************************************** Arriving over three hours late into the bus station and not having had the chance to message our Airbnb host from the road - as we had temporarily lost all phone signal when leaving the E.U. - we were not expecting our host, Danunska, to be in such good spirits as we sheepishly and rather hurriedly made our way from the bus station to our nearby apartment. Rather surprisingly, Danunska had not only waited for us and welcomed us as if we were perfectly on time, but she also took the chance to give us a full welcome to her country and the apartment which she was taking care of for the owner… Now this was a welcome worthy of a six-hour bus journey. Danunska explained that the closest recommended restaurant was at the local bus station - we had enough buses for one day and we took this as our opportunity to thank her for the patience and her help. Now that it was time to relieve her of her host duties, I somewhat embarrassingly offered her a modest tip in Croatian Kuna, as we had not yet had the chance to visit a cash point in Montenegro. To our relief, Danunska obliged me - even if it was likely to end up in the bottom of a sock drawer – and she took her leave, wishing us an enjoyable trip. Right then, food was the number one priority and after I found a cash point, I was hurtling towards a fast food window I had spotted on our way to the apartment earlier that day on the bus. Having no clue of how widely spoken English was in Budva and not wishing to complicate things, the plan was to buy anything that resembled hamburgers, chips and pizza before returning with the bounty to the apartment to sit in and eat, followed by a shower and a quiet drink. Thankfully, all three were on the menu and having explained to the very enthusiastic server that I was perfectly happy with a plain margherita pizza, I took my food and started walking back to Doireann in the apartment - contented with what I had gathered. I had, after all, managed to resist the offer of olives on the pizza - which I like and she doesn’t – only to open the pizza back at the apartment and find a generous sprinkling of mushrooms on our pizza. Let me make it clear: I despise mushrooms - but you’ve got to love that Montenegrin hospitality! For the rest of our trip I know that we sure did... Thankfully the remainder was mushroom free.