Wanderlust — Montenegro Dreams

As a child, I was captivated by people who lived lives very different from my own, and by the sounds of words spoken to a different cadence. The pull of the unfamiliar was strong. I do not remember a time when I didn’t want to experience far away places.  I never outgrew the wanderlust. Today, the rhythm of a foreign language is music to my ears and the promise of a trip is reason enough to pack up.

And those strange-sounding names; oh, yes!

The pull of unknown places is strong. So, when Kotor, Montenegro, was one of the ports on a Princess cruise itinerary, it was almost impossible to resist. I knew next to nothing about Montenegro; in fact, I had to pull out my atlas to locate it.

We were in port for only one day. That was 2017, in the fall. Today, as I think about that visit, I find it hard to believe that all those good memories were formed in the course of one afternoon. Now I want to return again!

The place, the people, the history speak loudly of life well-lived and fine experiences just waiting to be had. Even more seems promised on a second visit than I experienced during the original. But that first visit could hardly have been better! The scenery, both the ancient city buildings and the surrounding limestone cliffs, is stunning, with hand-built stone walls stretching for more than three miles above the town. The scene is both awesome and forbidding.

Arriving in the City

Our day began with a quick tender ride between our ship and the city dock. Once on land, we were efficiently directed to a guide who was to accompany us on a stroll through Kotor’s marketplace prior to joining a local chef to hear about traditional Montenegrin dishes. We were to sample a variety of regional favorites.

We don’t normally sign up for ship’s tours — we don’t do groups well, preferring instead to walk at our own pace and make our own discoveries. But this one was different.

The stroll turned out to be more of a brisk walk as our group skirted the walls of the ancient city before arriving at the

market. Stalls were filled with olives and cheeses, figs and dried apricots, colorful produce, plump breads, pastries and chocolates, sausages, ham and fresh fish – vendors offered samples, encouraging us to try unfamiliar fruits, to sample various figs and olives, to buy spices and olive oil. It was tempting, to be sure.

Welcome Freely Offered

But, we had a schedule to keep, and we pushed on to the end of the harborside thoroughfare before taking a turn onto a tree-lined lane bookended with private gardens. While our group had envisioned gathering in a local café, we were delighted to be ushered through a courtyard and into a cozy home, greeted by a vivacious blonde who wore pearls with her casual slacks and tee.

She greeted us warmly in only-slightly accented English, and introduced her husband, a former sea captain, who stood ready to pour each of us our choice of strong aperitif even though it was not quite 10 a.m. But, when one is on vacation and a guest in someone’s home . . .

Each of us accepted a glass, then followed our hostess’s lead and raised our glasses in a mutual toast — to new friendships, good food and good times. She encouraged us to feel at home in her home. Each of us found a comfortable seat in the art and antique-filled sitting room. I chose a spot around a diminutive lace-draped round table.

We learned about the life experiences of this lady and her husband. Her many-faceted career, as author, cook, lecturer, tour guide, and who knows what else, was a bit of a surprise, proving that reinventing oneself knows no cultural or geographic boundaries. We also learned about her husband’s exploits at sea and of his ancestors whose portraits hung on the walls.

After a bit, she disappeared for a few moments into the kitchen. We were invited to take seats at a long banquet table that nearly overfilled a well-proportioned dining room with a view of the garden.

Sharing Food, Building Bridges

Treated like honored guests, we sampled plate after plate of appetizers, a delicious soup, a traditional entree, and, finally, a rich dessert, all accompanied by a parade of local wines. We listened with rapt attention as she demonstrated how to prepare a traditional Montenegrin recipe.

We were not really prepared for Montenegro. Yes, we knew some of the history: Kotor is a unique medieval fortress town, with an array of buildings that span from the 12th through the 16th Centuries. It’s impossible to walk through the old town without visualizing pirates along with priests, noblemen and beggars, monks and blacksmiths, painters and writers, physicians and printers.

The small city, with a population of approximately 13,000, is situated in a secluded portion of the long Bay of Kotor on Montenegro’s Adriatic Coast. Less than 1,000 people actually live within Kotor’s historic walls, and its earliest history is a bit muddied; it is first mentioned in ancient literature in about 168 BC, but some authorities believe it was founded as early as the 5th Century BC. It was known at one point in history as Acruvium, part of the Roman province of Dalmatia. No matter the date, Kotor now holds the status of a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and the city’s fortifications testify to a succession of foreign occupations and battles. Once allied with Dubrovnik, it gained independence from Byzantium until it was later occupied successively, and repeatedly, by the Serbian Empire, the Republic of Venice and the Ottoman Empire, the Hapsburg Monarchy and, finally, the Napoleonic Kingdom of Italy. It played significant roles in both World Wars.

After 1918, the city that saw some of the fiercest battles of the war became part of Yugoslavia, and gained its new name of Kotor. It was not until 2006, however, that Montenegro, part of the former Yugoslav Republic, become truly independent

With that much turmoil and turnover in its history, it may be surprising that Kotor endured. But endure it did, and today it boasts one of the best-preserved old towns in the region, along with its impressive fortified old city walls and its stunning Cathedral, built in 1166.

The Cathedral of Saint Tryphon is a major tourist site, one of two cathedrals in this unique small city that was formerly known as Cattaro. Saint Tryphon has a collection of beautiful art and artifacts, in addition to its notable architecture.

What else sets Kotor apart from its neighbors? There is a distinguished maritime museum and the Kotor Festival of Theater for Children has attracted throngs of visitors from throughout Europe for the 30 years it has been held. Citizens of Kotor are also protective of their cats, symbols of the city. Food and water, along with boxes that serve as shelter, are left throughout the city. Kotor Kitties is a chartable services that provides spay and neutering services in an attempt to limit the population, but the cats are as much a part of the city as the smiles of its citizens. Don’t miss Cats’ Square if you visit, and be sure to take home a cat-themed souvenir.

I hold fading memories of the cats, the cathedral, the city walls, and the sparkling sea. But I have a clear recollection of the taste of fresh olives and figs from a vendor in the city’s market, and of the stories told and the laughter shared around a dining table in the home of a charming couple in Kotor!

Oysters . . . and other Adriatic adventures

I had never developed an appreciation for raw oysters; nor for oyster stew or oyster stuffing at Thanksgiving, for that matter.

I have been known to order Oysters Rockefeller because that seems a “classy” choice at an upscale restaurant, on the same culinary level as escargot or whole artichokes. I love showy foods, and I admit that I enjoy demonstrating that I know how to deal with such dishes. I have, on occasion, skewered a salty, smoked oyster for a cracker.

But as for raw oysters. No, thank you. I do not love oysters.

My husband, on the other hand, enjoys oysters any way they’re served, but preferably right in the shell, cold, salty and fresh from the sea.

It was a preference he worked hard to cultivate, ordering oysters on the half shell several times in his early 20s. He initially discovered that the slippery oysters didn’t slide so easily down his throat, no matter how much he tried to disguise them with cocktail sauce and and Tabasco. Those first few times, he admits, were less than pleasant experiences.

But he persevered. At a tiny cafe in Brittany, with a view of the oyster fields just out the window, he ordered an oyster. One fresh-from-the-Atlantic oyster. The lone half shell on ice, accompanied by lemon and course sea salt, was brought to the table with a flourish by an ever-so-proper French waiter. It prompted curious smiles from those seated at nearby tables.

The waiter stood by expectantly, awaiting a reaction.

I was there, cheering him on.

Other diners also waited, and nodded approval as he downed that first cool slippery oyster. It was a personal triumph. And it started a trend. He has since ordered oysters in Maine, in numerous Gulf Coast eateries, and in fine restaurants in cities across the globe. He does, you see, love oysters.

After many years, we returned to that same restaurant in Cancale, France. It had changed a bit over the years, but the oyster fields are still the same, and this time my husband ordered a half dozen and enjoyed every one. In fact, he considered ordering another half dozen.

Today, he rarely passes on the opportunity to order oysters on the half shell when we’re near an ocean that allows them to be delivered fresh and cold from their habitat. He still asks for extra horseradish and hot sauce.

I resisted for the longest time, until we visited the Adriatic three years ago. Sitting on the open deck of a vessel anchored only feet from the oyster beds, I was prepared to enjoy the local fare along with the white wine promised as part of a half-day excursion from Dubrovnik, Croatia.

I had planned to say no to the oysters. But I was curiously enthralled as I watched the servers expertly open the shells and plate up the briny treats. Before I took much time to think about it, I was repeating “I can do this” to myself. I accepted my plate with a bit of trepidation, but I knew my mate would help me out if I couldn’t finish my share.

I sprinkled the smallest oyster with lemon juice, added just a drop of Tabasco, and closed my eyes. My first sensation was memorable. I sensed the cold, and tasted the sea. Then I swallowed. It was a whole new reality.

I actually liked the sensation. I was pleasantly surprised by the silky texture, the intense fresh flavor, and the saltiness. I felt close to the sea and its bounty in profound ways.

It was a lesson. It was delicious. It was unforgettable. Not only was it an eye-opening confirmation of the bounties of the sea, but it was the beginning of a love affair with Croatia. The time we spent there was all too short. Last November we returned to see more of the country.

I did not sample any more oysters, but I did partake, willingly, of other Croatian treats! The food is special, as are the people. To say we loved our two short visits to Croatia is an understatement. I still have no great love for oysters, but Croatia captured our hearts. This Thanksgiving I cannot help but think again of those trips.

I am thankful that we took those trips when we did. When the world is once again healed, we will return. I look forward to it.

And I am sure there will be more stories to tell.