Twenty four hours anywhere is never enough but certainly not enough to take in these three amazingly beautiful places in these peerless Balkan countries. It only left us wanting to go back at a more leisurely pace.

Our April day started out very positively as we headed out of Mostar still in Bosnia Herzegovena. It soon became apparent as we rose and rose, that there were several mountain ranges between us and our Albanian destination that afternoon and we were now ready (at 9am) to see what the Sprinter could cope with!

On leaving the beautiful much restored City of Mostar, we headed up the most luscious valley of the Bregava River, passing a quite incredible circle of small waterfalls (Provalije) at a confluence of rivers and then later on some very ancient stones near Stolac which reminded me of a mini Stonehenge. The weather was great and in normal circumstances we would have leapt out to explore. But time was not on our side.

As we headed off to reach the border with Montenegro, (Deleusa/Vracenovici) not far up the valley, we were pulled over by two friendly policemen, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. They inspected my driving licence and asked if we had a triangle and yellow vests on board! The answer was yes. We were told that our UK sign on the number plate was too small and should be replaced and then they wished us well and waved us on.
We were confused about exactly where we were as they were road signs shortly afterwards that appeared to welcome us to another territory, but there was no formal border.
Jim’s theory was that the police were there to monitor our entry into a Serbian part from the Bosnian part, and it was some semi independent part of Bosnia Herzogovena prescribed by the post war Dayton agreement - see map and sign below.

As we got higher up into the hills in this area, and away from the touristy routes, the roadsides became increasingly litter strewn and there appeared to be really distressing fly tipping on an industrial scale, in this beautiful wild mountainous countryside.

The border crossing between Bosnia and Montenegro was notable for the friendly relations and close physical proximity of the border police in the two countries. Once our passports had been stamped out in Bosnia they were simply passed through a large hole in the wall to be stamped in by Montenegro. Neither the border policeman in Bosnia nor the one in Montenegro needed to rise from their desks! All we had to do was inch forward in the car to recover our documents.

Eventually over the border into Montenegro, (less litter) our plan was to descend the mountains into Kotor on the Mediterranean coast for lunch. We had heard that this was a beautiful pedestrianised old walled Venetian city and at least as beautiful as nearby Dubrovnik also on the coast.

To reach it, we had to descend either by a steep windy main road or head off down a more direct tiny steep track with many hairpin bends, which was an invitation to the brave, the foolish or intrepid. We paused briefly, and then thought we should try the latter as we had made good time and we were feeling a bit more confident about the capabilities of the Sprinter. Not far down the unprotected drops at the edge of the narrowing track fell away to nothing, hundreds of meters down and I got cold feet! It was so steep and many parts of the track were incredibly narrow, precipitous and crumbly.
I cannot lie, but there were a few cars with intrepid looking youths attempting the descent and even one touring motorbike coming up, but absolutely no caravans or heavy motorhomes at all. Our Sprinter van was at least twice the size and weight of Landy and there were very few, if any, places to safely turn back. Plus as we started our descent, I could not see how much worse it was going to get lower down. Not far down, I became rooted to the spot out of fear as the road narrowed to a minimum and there were sections of barrierless drops. Jim got out of the van leaving me clinging to the handbrake and everything I could grab and he sallied forth on foot to see how bad the hairpins were going to be and how narrow it was going to get. In the meantime a couple of young guys in small cars had decided to take the route (and a motorbike). I was forced to back up the track over wobbly potholes and narrow bridges to find a spot wide enough to let them through.

Me having backed the Sprinter back up to a spot where others could safely pass

Eventually Jim returned from his recce of the narrow track, steep drops and tight hairpins and we decided I should put my terror aside and drop down. It did not actually get much worse (at this point) and we eventually made it down to civilisation and a busy Med holiday resort area, which was buzzing with visitors. Not sure I would willingly do this again if not forced to! (I was).

We arrived in downtown Kotor and inside the city walls were many restaurants and shops and guides with tours. 1000m above the City was a massive castle, accessible by multiple steps. Exploring that would have required many hours. Time we did not have. Our plans to at least walk around the City walls were jettisoned in favour of a leisurely seafood lunch. (This allowed me to recover).

Sitting just outside the old city was a huge Norwegian cruise ship moored off shore. Just an amazing location and peaceful harbour. And no we could not hear its engines running!

Before we continued on our travels I looked at the route Jim had proposed for the remainder of our day. There were more precipitous hairpins in prospect! They looked as bad as our pre-lunch sorti. In the event, we had umpteen false and impossible starts up ridiculously steep mountainous tracks and sheepishly backed off. Jim blamed Mapsme, before he took control of matters and ignored all further instructions to head straight up mountains! (Well nearly all). By the time we eventually reached the Montenegeo/Albanian border near Shkoder, I could not face another mountain track and my nerves were in shreds.
This border crossing into Albania from Montenegro was totally straight forward and friendly. We had only to pay an exorbitant amount to insure the Sprinter for a very short visit. These things have to be forgotten, or they could ruin your day, if it was not ruined already!

View of castle in Shkoder from Legjendra campsite

On arrival in Shkoder, I have never been so glad to be able to stop in any campsite and sink into a comfortable bed clutching a bottle of cold beer! I was amazed by the quality of this Albanian campsite (Camping Legjendra) which was amazing by any standards, it was beautifully designed with incredible attention to detail, but even more so the view of yet another City with its illuminated castle in view of our doorstep! (Shkodër Wikipedia) This was not the Albania that I had visited 40 years ago when the roads had no markings, cars were scarce and the fields were full of peasants cutting crops with scythes. Donkeys and bullocks were carrying loads of people and crops to and from the fields and buses and lorries had parts falling off them and little or no lighting. Now roads, facilities, hotels and blocks of flats were being constructed everywhere and advertising, shops and traffic were much like neighbouring countries. Much had changed.

Part of campsite facilities designed and built by owner

I would like to say we had learnt our lesson on the limits of a 5.5 tonne Sprinter thus far into our journey but the following day, Jim felt we had made such good progress in respect of reaching the Greek border that we just had time for one more Castle in Albania which had the coveted Unesco World Heritage badge of quality. See castle, drive up. That is the thought process. However. The story of our wreckless ascent and ungainly descent from this Albanian castle (Gjirokaster) will have to wait for another blog. But as a taster, let me just say that our experience will not be getting the thumbs up from me.