Simplicity on the sea: How we fell in love with a destination we never expected to travel to.
If I close my eyes and summon up a scene from our eight months of slow travel, this little balcony overlooking the Bay of Kotor in Montenegro is what springs to mind. Barely big enough to perch a cafe table and two folding chairs when its two sea-green, wooden shutters were swung open, it’s tiny footprint only amplified the striking sea and mountain views that it gave way to.
Enclosed in wrought iron – with sweet floral detailing – the balcony is just one element of the historic Kotor stone home, squeezed tightly between two others, that we booked via Airbnb for roughly $170 per night. Inside, it’s been renovated to offer an updated kitchen, a second floor sitting area and two petite third-floor bedrooms. But the real charm is on that balcony, or on the street-level front patio, or nestled, knees up, on the wide ledge of an open window, overlooking the bay.
And thank goodness, because the entire reason that we were in Montenegro was this balcony. I’d scrolled past an image of it on Airbnb, searching for accommodations within a few hours drive from the airport we’d be landing at in Dubrovnik, Croatia. Given its reasonable cost, the expected ease of crossing from Croatia to Montengro, and it’s nearness to the Medieval town of Kotor, which was less than a 10-minute drive around the bay, it seemed like a no brainer. Plenty of vacation rentals fit that criteria, of course, but this was the balcony I was picturing our family eating breakfast on. And I could see it – then, before we’d even arrived – just as clearly as I see it in my mind now.
What I couldn’t have guessed was how deeply we’d fall in love with everything surrounding this tiny place on the bay, which we knew nothing about.
Located a two-hour drive south from Dubrovnik, the town of Kotor is the farthest point from the open ocean within the expansive bay, its Old Town ensconced by protective stone walls and the sheer mountainside. Here, there’s a bit less polish than you’ll find in Croatia’s tourist-centric city centers. A bit more grit. And in that, we felt like we’d achieved a more authentic glimpse into the Adriatic everyday.
While there are a handful of equally appealing nearby towns that deserve a day trip, we found our rhythm in slow mornings overlooking the sea, trips to stock up at the daily farmer’s market, and post-naptime ambles through Old Town’s narrow streets, frequently punctuated by breaks for gelato or to pet stray kittens. Here, stunning cathedrals tower above open squares that invite kids to kick soccer balls or twirl aimlessly. Cafes filled with outdoor seating and massive umbrellas create shady spots to sip coffee or wine. Tiny shops, galleries and pubs fill the spaces in between. And above it all – snaking up the mountain in a defiance of gravity – is a wall that leads to the old Kotor Fortress.
Making the ambitious climb to the top should be on the list of every traveler who is able. Steep and a bit crumbly, it’s a generally straightforward ascent that requires about an hour, offering impressive and expansive views of the bay at its summit. Time your climb outside of cruise ship docking hours to avoid the crowds; you’ll find one or more ships visiting the bay every day in high season. Likewise, time a trek outside of the day’s hottest hours; those stairs will get your heart pumping, especially if you’re climbing with a baby strapped to your body. (Gosh, I nearly sweat just remembering it.)
If you aren’t able to make time or find the energy to climb to the Fortress, take solace in the fact that equally magical are the views from the sea. With a not-yet-one-year-old in tow, we researched private boat tours of the bay and found it easy to work with an operator recommended by our rental host, who arrived the next morning, and docked directly in front of our home.
Since we’re usually up at the crack of dawn with the kids, we requested an early start, and the way that the empty waters felt as the jet boat rushed through them, under the sun and in the warm wind, made for my favorite part of our stay.
In the boat, we left Kotor and headed toward Perast, where the gorgeous Our Lady of the Rocks Catholic church is built in the sea upon an artificial island. The island itself was made from centuries of rocks, boulders and stone-filled ships being sank in its spot. Local legend claims that fishermen, who saw an image of Mary and Jesus on a rock in the sea in the 1400s, upheld an oath to toss stones into this same spot after each successful return to harbor. Even now, every year at sunset on July 22nd, locals boat to the island and throw rocks to continue the slow effort of widening its surface.
As we pulled up the island our tour guide chuckled, in awe. He’d never been the first to arrive, he told us, noting that nearly 1,000 visitors will rush in once the church opens its doors around 9 a.m. And so, in that moment, we soaked up the silence as we quietly walked the small island’s perimeter, marveling at its history and the beauty of the chapel. We hung around as more boats arrived and waited to duck inside the church ourselves, before continuing our tour, which included stops to the popular Blue Cave and old wartime submarine tunnels.
Later in the week, we drove to Perast to explore the town – which was small, upscale and full of charm – by land. We visited Kotor’s playgrounds and took walks along the water’s edge, where restaurants are lined up and bustling each evening. We toured the Old Town churches and lit candles and then found cafes steps away for pasta and Aperol spitzers. We read on our balcony and sipped wine while we watched in the distance as lights flickered on, illuminating the zigzagging wall that led up the mountain and to the Fortress.
And then we left. Not because we were ready to, but because the purpose of the trip was to keep moving, and Croatia was calling. But Montenegro carved a special space in my memories and for a long time to come, I’ll be dreaming of that balcony and the world that sits just outside of it.
Departing DTW 