I paid 20 euros extra to travel in a 2-berth couchette, rather than the 6-berth compartments in peasant class. There is no segregation by sex and so one's couchette-mate is a matter of blind luck. Obviously my first choice would have been a visually-impaired young lady with an affectionate nature and flexible morals; but in the event I was happy to settle for my second choice, which was that nobody at all turned up and so I had the whole compartment to myself.
Admittedly the term 'sleeper' is something of a misnomer. The train frequently stops at signals and the sudden diminution of noise wakes you up every time. (It's funny, I'm always driven to distraction by smartphone pings and earphone leakage, but I can abide the deafening clatter of 1950s rolling stock with the utmost complacency.) Also there was the abrupt 3am bang on the door from the Serbian border guards, closely followed by a similar visitation from their Montenegrin counterparts. There were no shower facilities on the train, and the toilet was of that kind that makes me just thank God that, as a man, I didn't need to sit down on it.
After five nights in my Belgrade fleapit, plus the overnight journey described above, by the time I arrived at my hotel I was in a fairly advanced state of decomposition. I threw myself on the mercy of the receptionist and, like an angel in human shape, she let me check in even though it was 8am and I was five hours early. In accordance with the laws of justice and karma, I've given that hotel five-star reviews across all platforms.
With its wide sleepy streets, bright sunshine and distant mountain ranges, Podgorica reminds me in some ways of the remoter parts of Arizona or California. Admittedly there isn't a whole lot going on here, but the people are friendly and there are plenty of places to get coffee and good food for a pittance. And on the rainy days I've settled for sitting on my hotel room balcony with a book and a beer or two. It's a tough life.
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| Surely the world needs more capital city centres that look like this. |
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| At the train station, looking north at the mountains through which I arrived |
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| View to the east from near my hotel |
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| I didn't manage to find out the names of these teams, and so I don't think this counts towards my foreign football badge collection (USA, Chile, Argentina, Spain, Portugal, Serbia, Scotland) |
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| Edd vs Food #67 Chicken, bacon, cheese, chips, pita bread At Home of Gyros |
