Lunch With the Cops

The Bay of Kotor is popular with sunbathers…despite the fact that there is not a grain of sand to be found.

International Living Postcards-- your daily escape

Wednesday, Sept. 6, 2006
Budva, Montenegro

“Don’t they know about Spain and Portugal?” That was my first thought on seeing hordes of sunbathers around the Bay of Kotor and Herceg Novi, Montenegro’s nearest coastal city to the Croatian border. If they can’t find a patch of pale gray pebbles, bathers spread themselves out on blisteringly hot concrete platforms. It looks more like torture than pleasure.

Most of Montenegro’s beaches won’t appeal if you prefer soft sand underfoot. Around the central resorts of Budva and Becici, the concrete platforms disappear, but beaches are a mix of gritty shingle and pebbles. Don’t be fooled by descriptions of “natural sand.” In reality, it’s grit--and most unpleasant for tender soles. It helps having jelly sandals to pick your way into the clear blue water.

The farther south you go, the more sand you’ll find. The best sandy beaches are around Ulcinj, near the Albanian border (I’ll have full details on this area for subscribers to the print edition of International Living). But the tour operator who promises Becici has a “superb sandy beach” is telling bare-faced lies.

On Budva’s equally gritty beach, it only costs $6.40 to rent two sun-loungers and a shady parasol for the day, but most visitors are loath to pay anything. They lay down towels and stick up a sun brolly wherever there’s a free slot. The trickle of sun worshippers starts hitting Budva’s promenade at 7.30 a.m., and by 9 a.m. it’s a raging torrent of families weighed down with chairs, lilos, beach toys, brollys, drinks coolers, and bagfuls of food.

“ Imaprovni, imaprovni”’ I don’t know if it’s the correct spelling, but when you hear that call, it means a trayful of mega-sized donuts is heading toward you. Hawkers sell all kinds of strange stuff. Bottles of home-made tanning oil for $2.55; fake perfumes for $3.20; roasted corn-cobs for $1.28.

A couple of hours here was enough for me--particularly as the endless communal snacking of fruit and donuts attracts wasps. Parasols on this part of the beach don’t have attached ashtrays--and cigarette stubs are everywhere. Although I smoke myself, I didn’t feel happy about adding to the piles. And beach bars have no bathroom facilities. Noticing few people paying $0.65 to use the grim toilet blocks, I wondered how clean the sea really is.

For $2.55, you can ride a dinky tourist train from Budva’s Stari Grad (old town), past the beaches of Budva and Becici, and along to the harbor village of Rafailovici. The entire distance is only around four miles, but it’s understandable why so many people pack the train. It’s a long slog in August temperatures of 90+ degrees Fahrenheit.

Not fancying hot dogs, burgers or pizza for lunch, we clambered up from Rafailovici to Gaga’s restaurant on the highway. Maybe the climb puts visitors off...or maybe it’s seeing almost every terrace table occupied by very large policemen…but we were the only diners not in uniform. I’m not sure of the type of automatic rifle, but a frightening amount of firepower was propped against the restaurant door.

I’d guess this is where every local cop comes to eat. All were having the same set lunch--cucumber salads with fresh crusty bread; meat balls in a tomato and paprika sauce with mashed potatoes; huge chunks of juicy watermelon. It looked and smelt fantastic--so we ignored the menu and asked for the same. Six dollars apiece. But unlike the cops, I washed mine down with a $1.65 Niksic beer.

Steenie Harvey
For International Living