Montenegro - Unspoilt, but for how long?
Autumn 2009
I have a cunning plan,” said the Montenegrin Minister, but this was no Baldrick botch up. A good business knows how to exploit its assets and in 2006, when Montenegro split from Serbia, it knew exactly where its economic potential lay – tourism. The tiny nation was already using the Euro as its national currency and was soon investing heavily to improve its roads, power, communications etc in a focused bid to become the new tourist capital of Europe.
Three years on and the Adriatic remains crystal clear and teeming with fish. The mountains slope steep towards the sky and small picturesque fishing villages, unchanged for generations, are dotted along the coastline.
But blemishes are beginning to appear on the face of the landscape. Concrete carbuncles are popping up like pimples on adolescent cheeks. Russian roubles are piling into Montenegro faster than the property developers can spend, (or is that invest?), them. There are more flights each day to and from Moscow than any other destination. You won’t hear many English voices but the Eastern Europeans are here en masse.
The old forted town of Kotor is Montenegro’s tourist showcase. The problem is that there is only one road in and out so either go early in the morning or be prepared for a long midday car nap. Better to head south along the coast, past Budva, which is rapidly becoming Torremolinos with its ‘Jet-ski jerks’ and teenage boat parties, to the quaint fishing village of Przno.
Even Przno has not escaped unscathed with the grotesquely ugly Hotel Maestral & Casino. Fortunately the hotel is located by the main road to the side of the village leaving the tiny bay in tact. Sit by the water’s edge in one of the taverna style restaurants and watch the local fishermen move between the shore and their boats via anything small which floats – canoes, tin cans, even inflatable pool toys. The restaurant breadbaskets becomes pet food as you look down from your table at swarms of fish feeding in frenzy like deranged piranha. Langust has the reputation but the food at More seemed better, although the menu in most of the restaurants is the same – seafood risotto, vongole na buzari (clams in a tomato soup) and fresh fish, straight from the fishermen’s boats. Unlike a number of places around the Mediterranean where the waters have been over fished, Montenegro still has an abundance of sea life.
The real treat at Przno occurs in the early evening. Take your seat in one of the comfy chairs at Fini Porat, the bar/pizzeria, as the sun begins to set. It is truly spectacular. The image becomes even more surreal after dark as the boats bob around on the water like toys in a child’s bath.
Three years on and the Adriatic remains crystal clear and teeming with fish. The mountains slope steep towards the sky and small picturesque fishing villages, unchanged for generations, are dotted along the coastline.
But blemishes are beginning to appear on the face of the landscape. Concrete carbuncles are popping up like pimples on adolescent cheeks. Russian roubles are piling into Montenegro faster than the property developers can spend, (or is that invest?), them. There are more flights each day to and from Moscow than any other destination. You won’t hear many English voices but the Eastern Europeans are here en masse.
The old forted town of Kotor is Montenegro’s tourist showcase. The problem is that there is only one road in and out so either go early in the morning or be prepared for a long midday car nap. Better to head south along the coast, past Budva, which is rapidly becoming Torremolinos with its ‘Jet-ski jerks’ and teenage boat parties, to the quaint fishing village of Przno.
Even Przno has not escaped unscathed with the grotesquely ugly Hotel Maestral & Casino. Fortunately the hotel is located by the main road to the side of the village leaving the tiny bay in tact. Sit by the water’s edge in one of the taverna style restaurants and watch the local fishermen move between the shore and their boats via anything small which floats – canoes, tin cans, even inflatable pool toys. The restaurant breadbaskets becomes pet food as you look down from your table at swarms of fish feeding in frenzy like deranged piranha. Langust has the reputation but the food at More seemed better, although the menu in most of the restaurants is the same – seafood risotto, vongole na buzari (clams in a tomato soup) and fresh fish, straight from the fishermen’s boats. Unlike a number of places around the Mediterranean where the waters have been over fished, Montenegro still has an abundance of sea life.
The real treat at Przno occurs in the early evening. Take your seat in one of the comfy chairs at Fini Porat, the bar/pizzeria, as the sun begins to set. It is truly spectacular. The image becomes even more surreal after dark as the boats bob around on the water like toys in a child’s bath.
Be Frank: agree or disagree? What do you think?
