August 1, 2012
Return to life: Hani Hotit - Virapazar
IF YOU have ever ridden the busy road south from Golcesbovci to Virpazar, we know where you left your tyre lever. It's in the grass in the shade of the building next to the railway station. It's black plastic and we left it there for you to collect.
The railway station was a rest point and asylum from the traffic on a deliberately short day. Our camp site turned to be ideal but for long lines of grass worn bare by the eternal passage of thousands of ants. We chose it because we could get away from traffic crossing between Albania and Montenegro. It was, as I said, the first field on the right and the only problem was a white house equally back from the road. The walls were cracked and the windows missing. The inside was a mush of sodden newspapers and other junk. It was unlikely anybody lived there but we called in case we were about to disturb a hobo or someone who deserved respect for dropping out of society and who valued his peace.
We valued our own peace. We were asleep by seven and we slept 11 hours. Exhaustion takes time to placate. I wonder now how seriously dehydrated we became up on that mountain. The only place to drink was a mountain spring. That was it all day. We didn't feel drained but, then, I suppose you never do. Today I have drunk a litre and a half from my bidons, a litre and a half from a bottle of ice tea, a beer and a coffee and I still haven't had a serious pee.
Virpazar, where we are now, is a good place to switch off from the world. Ironic, really, because the world makes a point of being there. It is a halt on the backpacking trail and lives in a circle of self-justification, surviving because of backpackers who go there because it is there. It's appealing but no better than a thousand others once you've looked over the bridge at the river or, if you're a bird-watcher and in the right season, made your tour of the lake and its reserves.
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But, no grumbles. We have had a good meal, the sort that surprises you and rewards as well, and we watched a round-up of the Olympics in Britain on the restaurant television. A thoroughly self-absorbed, brainless night out.
Wonderful!
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