SVETI STEFAN, Serbia and Montenegro -- In Shakespeare's "Twelfth
Night," a young woman finds herself shipwrecked on a strange coast.
"What country, friends, is this?" she asks.
Scholars speculate--and I like to think--that she landed on the
Adriatic coast of Montenegro, a place as little-known to many people
today as it was to Shakespeare's poor, lost Viola.
A few intrepid travelers came here for suntans and seafood in the
Soviet era, when Montenegro was a part of the Federal People's
Republic of Yugoslavia and hotel rooms were a steal. But the breakup
in the early 1990s of the former Yugoslavia, of which Serbia and
Montenegro were a part, followed by a dark decade of ethnic cleansing
and war, virtually erased the region from the tourist map.
Now, with peace restored, vacationers have started returning to the
southern Balkans.
The coast of Croatia, just northwest of Montenegro, became Europe's
hot beach spot a few years ago. Then--in the inevitable way of flash
fame--it became increasingly crowded and pricey. Adventurous,
cost-conscious vacationers began looking to forgotten little
Montenegro, about the size of Connecticut and with a population of
about 670,000.
Last spring, I clipped an item from the French newspaper Le Figaro
touting Montenegro as the next eastern Mediterranean beach
destination. The article promised haunting medieval towns like Kotor,
rugged mountains, dreamy beaches and low prices compared with those on
the French Riviera and Italy's Amalfi Coast.
I also was interested to learn that Montenegro enjoys a beach season
that starts as early as April and lingers into October.
But my four-day visit to Montenegro in early September was mostly due
to Shakespeare, who depicted the country as a wild, romantic place
where marvelous things can happen.
I had only the vaguest notion of where the country was and couldn't
locate a guidebook that covered it. I did find the Web site for the
National Tourist Organization of Montenegro and then an office for
Montenegro Airlines, from which I bought a round-trip ticket from
Paris. The ticket agent gave me the name of a travel agency in
Montenegro--Luminalis--that arranged my airport transfers and
accommodations. I was offered a double at a small new hotel in the
seafront town of Sveti Stefan for about $60 a night.
The price was right, but I had my heart set on the most storied place
on the coast, the Hotel Sveti Stefan, occupying its own little island
and connected to the town by a causeway. It was formerly a medieval
fortress, then a fishing village before it was converted into a hotel
in the late 1950s. It briefly upstaged places like St. Tropez as a
glamorous hideaway for such stars as Sophia Loren and Elizabeth
Taylor.
The travel agency warned me that the government-owned Hotel Sveti
Stefan was no longer up to VIP snuff. But the price for a single, with
breakfast and dinner, was only about $130.
It was rainy and cold when I flew to Montenegro, a trip that ended
with a stirring flyover across the virtually mountain-locked Bay of
Kotor. On landing, I found bright sunshine at the diminutive Podgorica
airport and a Luminalis agent waiting to take me to Sveti Stefan in
his car.
On the way, we skirted the western side of wide Skadar Lake, half in
Montenegro, half in Albania, one of the largest bodies of fresh water
in Europe. We then crossed Montenegro's coastal range. It crests at
little more than 6,000 feet but is stark and steep.
A narrow, winding road links the resorts along Montenegro's coast,
from Herceg-Novi near the Croatian border to Ulcinj, the last major
town before Albania. About halfway between the two, I got my first
view of the town of Sveti Stefan.
Hotel Sveti Stefan looks magnificent from a distance, a Mediterranean
Mont St. Michel made up of about two dozen stone villas roofed with
red tile, climbing terraces toward a Serbian Orthodox chapel on the
top of the rock. Porters meet guests at the head of the causeway to
take baggage to the formidable front gate.
Guests are given maps when they arrive, which are especially valuable
at night, when it's almost impossible to avoid going astray on the
island's poorly lighted, maze-like walkways and staircases. In the
daytime, it's fairly easy to find the Serbian Orthodox chapel and
postage-stamp-sized swimming pool below it, the cafe on the islet's
southeastern side and the stunning, terraced dining room, which looks
toward the Montenegro Riviera capital of Budva.
I spent two nights in a single, with hardly any view, a spreadless bed
that looked like something out of boot camp, battered bureaus and
chairs, and a private bath, garishly tiled, but clean and serviceable.
The hotel didn't seem crowded, but I had to plead with the
reservations manager to let me move for my last two nights to a
similarly shabby double that overlooked the mainland.
Breakfasts on the terrace featured blueberry juice and big, beautiful,
cheesy omelets. Dinners were another matter, served by legions of
waiters attired in penguin black and white, who presented lackluster
fish and meat dishes. After two evening meals at the hotel, I went
elsewhere, even though dinners were included in my room rate.
Like the hotel, the town of Sveti Stefan is rough around the edges.
It's in the middle of condo and hotel development that bodes ill for
its future.
To get to Budva, about 10 miles northwest of Sveti Stefan, I took a
water taxi that let passengers on and off at several of the most
popular beaches along the way.
The last stop was the mightily walled old town, or "Stari Grad," of
Budva, topped by a citadel where open-air concerts and plays are
staged in summer. Budva is an ancient place, mentioned in the writings
of Sophocles, Pliny and Ptolemy. The Bay of Kotor is a wonder, reached
from the Adriatic through two other bays, separated by bottlenecks. It
is surrounded by steep mountains, including Mt. Lovcen, the nation's
spiritual cradle.
Anyone who has been to Venice will be enchanted by this late-medieval
outpost of the once omnipotent republic, with its decorated palaces,
clock tower, meandering lanes and secret piazzas.
My tour group then boarded a little boat and sallied forth onto
pristine Kotor Bay. Halfway across, we saw the tall Venetian tower of
the town of Perast and the two islets in front of it, crowned by
churches. We stopped at one of them, Our Lady of the Rock, built stone
by stone by local people starting in the 15th Century.
In my heart of hearts, I'm fairly sure that Shakespeare's Viola landed
someplace on the Bay of Kotor at the beginning of "Twelfth Night."
Ultimately, things worked out for her. She found her lost twin brother
and married a duke.
Things worked out well for me there also, even if the Adriatic Coast
of Montenegro remains something of a mixed bag: in need of development
but not too much, almost ready to welcome visitors but not too many.
It's not quite an idyll, but as is, it's a fine place to be
shipwrecked.
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IF YOU GO
LODGING
Even Montenegro's highest-rated, luxury hotels are fairly basic by
American standards. Many are Soviet-era architectural horrors.
Some exceptions:
Hotel Sveti Stefan (85315 Sveti Stefan; 011-381-86-420-000;
www.budvanska-rivijera.co.yu/engleski/sstefan.html) is fabulously
situated on its own island in the Adriatic. It is government-owned and
rough around the edges but clean and hospitable. Closed mid-October to
April. Doubles from $84, with breakfast.
Hotel Splendido (85335 Preanj; 011-381-82-301-700; e-mail
[EMAIL PROTECTED]) is on the northern arm of the Bay
of Kotor, in a recently renovated palace with a small pool. Doubles
from $55, including breakfast.
DINING
I found some great little seafood places, where dinner with local wine
costs about $18:
In Sveti Stefan, Pod Maslinom sits on a pretty terrace overlooking the
sea. At night, there is live music.
In Przno, at Konora Langust (011-381-86-468-369), try a meal of
grilled shrimp, salad and a carafe of wine.
I can't imagine a better place to eat seafood--grilled calamari
especially-- than Jadran (011-381-86-451-028) in Budva.
INFORMATION
National Tourist Organization of Montenegro, 28 Postanski Fah, 85310
Budva; www.visit-montenegro.com.
Luminalis, G9 Poslovni Centar, 95000 Bar; 011-381-82-303-236; www.luminalis.net
(Web site is in French only).
-- S.S.
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