Welcome to Monetenegro. You will not see the sun this month.
We made it! After an admittedly hellish six months of preparation, we’re here, and we’re “liveaboards” on our very own boat.
Since it’s now April, this is an effort to bring our adventures up to date. Bear with me as I try to summarize the first month of our experiences living in Tivat.
First, don’t let these sunny photos deceive you. Though locals are quick to point out that Tivat has more days of sunshine that anywhere else in Montenegro, they neglect to mention that the bar is exceedingly low, particularly during the winter. And locals were also those who smiled bracingly and told us that this November, or at least the last two weeks of the month (we arrived November 15th), was as bad as they could remember. “Usually December is wetter than November.” (But I’ll cover that in the December post.) We woke up to rain, grey skies, and wind almost every morning. As Peter describes in the “Moldova” post, within weeks everything in the boat felt wet to the touch, and mold and mildew were threatening to consume anything stored in a drawer, lazarette, locker, cupboard, or bilge. We embarked on a search for a dehumidifier. If there was a patch of blue, we hauled everything out onto the deck to dry, and eventually learned that spraying a vinegar + tea tree oil concoction would keep the evil m&m away. Smelled to the skies, but it worked.
Peter worked, I watched the World Cup. For the first time I was able to watch every game, and my knitting benefitted as much as my sanity. Since Peter works at night, we spent many of our days, damn the weather, exploring the neighborhoods of Tivat, learning our way around and getting oriented. There’s also excellent walking to the north of Tivat – a sea wall that goes all the way up the coast to the ferry across the fjord at the neck of the hourglass shaped Boka Kotorska.
If the sun did come out (and it did every 10 days or so through December) we got outside for the day. Salamanders coming out from a tangle of seaweed and mud, squinting in the glare. Sunny days here are glorious, with a sky blue as a Colorado blue bird day. The sea is stunning, with crystal clear water and glittering vistas. And Porto Montenegro, the marina we’re berthed in, is a relatively recent development offering very posh housing and hotels, very good restaurants and bars, and shops selling very high fashion for the tourists who flock here. Sunny days found us walking along the coast, working on the boat, hanging out laundry, or sitting in one of the cafes next to the sea drinking prosecco. Just being out in the sun reminds you that winter, which is only just beginning, won’t last forever. Just, as it turns out, a damned long time.
