Croatia, Montenegro – two victims of overtourism? (page 8 of 11)

I’d say it’s more on the rustic side.

I preferred the meals in Albania. More vegetables, more fruit.

It’s not as bad as in the northern countries, England, or the USA (on a normal budget), but it doesn’t quite measure up to the Iberian Peninsula, France, Italy, or Morocco.

It’s time to say goodbye to Montenegro and our cozy chalet.

Today, we’re hitting the road for Bosnia-Herzegovina!

We choose to cross the border via a secondary checkpoint since the main crossing can take a while.

Secondary checkpoint means a quiet, less-traveled road!

That’s definitely the case on the Montenegrin side: not a single car, just a handful of houses between Vir and Bobotovo Groblje—about 45 kilometers...

The formalities go smoothly, and soon we’re logging our first kilometers in this nearly landlocked country—just 20 kilometers of coastline—hard hit by the wars following the breakup of Yugoslavia.

The vibe is different here. Less wild, more populated, more industrial, but also less touristy.

We stop in the town of Nevesinje to withdraw some cash from an ATM.

A secret code later, we’re armed with a few hundred convertible marks.

How about spending some at this restaurant’s terrace?



Small appetites can settle for one dish for two...

After devouring the ćevapi, we head to the village of Blagaj and its famous Sufi monastery.

We run into tourists and parking attendants—though the latter won’t get a dime out of us...

The site is packed with riverside restaurants, the temperature’s hovering around 40°C (104°F), so we only stick around long enough for a few photos.







Mostar is only about fifteen kilometers away, and we reach our reserved lodging by mid-afternoon.

The room is quiet, the Scirocco fits nicely in the courtyard, and we’re just steps away from the old town.

What more could we ask for?

The AC?

Phew, it works like a charm!

Thankfully, because we’ve walked right back into a heatwave, and we’ve got no desire to stroll around in this kind of heat!

We’re waiting in the cool until the end of the day before heading out to explore the Ottoman heart of this war-torn city.

The old bridge destroyed during the war now stands again over the Neretva River. The daring divers still put on a show, war reporters have been replaced by tourists, and a fragile peace now exists between the peoples.

The old-time shops have been replaced by souvenir stands and restaurants, sadly making the city feel interchangeable with so many others.

Yet the atmosphere of the little squares and alleys still has a warm charm, and we’re happy to wander the cobblestone streets.



















The only major downside: the riverbanks, where trash alternates with tourist facilities.

For dinner, we chose a restaurant with a view of the bridge. The meal was okay, nothing special, and the bill was steep.

Always check the price of a drink before ordering...

But when it came to the view, we definitely got our money’s worth!









Enjoy your meal...

Well, I thought it was dessert too—apples and vanilla ice cream. 😄

I get the feeling the hinterland is pretty similar to Slovenia. Not necessarily a change of scenery for us.

Well, I thought it was dessert too—apples and vanilla ice cream.

Same here! 😏

No, Montenegro doesn’t really look like Slovenia—it’s not the same type of terrain, and Slovenia is wetter and covered in lusher deciduous forests (beech trees). We’re in the Alps there! Plus, the culture isn’t quite the same either.

Montenegro’s hinterland is way wilder than Slovenia’s, at least from what I’ve seen.

Way less touristy (nothing like Bled or Vintgar), and way more disorienting because of the dual use of the Latin and Cyrillic alphabets—even though Cyrillic is fading out (a deliberate move to stand apart from Serbia).

I don’t remember anywhere in Slovenia like Durmitor, do you?

The thermometer keeps hitting record highs; the day promises to be grueling.

Still, we’re not going to spend it cooped up under the air conditioning!

We finally decide to explore the area around Mostar, starting with the Kravica waterfalls.

I hesitated for a long time about visiting this natural site. The Blue Eye in Albania, Krka, and (to a lesser extent) Plitvice in Croatia left me with a bitter memory—one of environmental destruction in the name of profit.

Kravica won’t escape this rule, and I even wonder if the carnage isn’t worse here than elsewhere.

The size of the (paid) parking lot gives a sense of what’s coming.

We pay for entry (it’s not cheap...), decline the offer of a little train, and walk along the paved path leading to the base of the falls.

Wow, it’s stunning!









In photos...

But if I zoom out, it’s a lot less glorious...



Concrete, an invasion of sun loungers and bars, swimmers slathered in sunscreen—everything I hate!







I came, I saw, I’m leaving just as fast...

Our next stop will save this rather poorly started day: the magnificent village of Počitelj.

We have lunch with trout before tackling the steep alleys of this Ottoman city.

We won’t make it all the way to the top of the village, defeated by the 40°C heat, but it’s truly charming—a little gem!











Our tour will end at the Fortica viewpoint.

The view stretches over all of Mostar, but it’s not the best time to admire this grand panorama.



Afterward, we head back to town to admire the Old Bridge from the riverbanks.

The setting sun gilds the stone, a diver wonders if his jump will be worth it, boats compete to see which will be the loudest...



We’re dining on a terrace with some local specialties that feel a bit too heavy in this heat.





Night falls, and the streetlights beautifully highlight mosques and buildings.

We make a few purchases, then go pack our suitcases.





Tomorrow, we head back toward France.

It’s such a shame for these beautiful waterfalls. 😕

In winter, it must be nice since everything’s probably closed for lack of customers! 😉

During peak season, you’re better off giving it a miss...

We’re leaving Bosnia-Herzegovina the same way we entered—through a secondary border crossing.

The Croatian customs officer asks if we have anything to declare.

Three bottles of wine?

Alright, you’re good to go!

And just like that, we’re back in the Schengen Zone.

A quick stop at Red Lake, a few views of the green waters of Lake Riice, and it’s time to head toward busier roads.



We’re now crossing Croatia via the highway, though we’ll leave it near Ogulin to finish our journey through the greenery and mountains.

The hotel we booked is in sight, and we take advantage of the relatively mild temperatures to stretch our legs.

The village doesn’t have much to offer, but that doesn’t matter for a one-night stop.

One last Croatian dinner, one last night in the Balkans...



See you tomorrow in Italy! !

Goodbye Croatia, goodbye Slovenia, hello Italian motorways.

Traffic is lighter than on the way out, but it’s still a car parade for some...

Feeling a bit peckish?

How about stopping in Vicenza?

The city is dominated by the Sanctuary of the Madonna of Monte Berico, a perfect spot for a break off the motorway.

A café offers tempting paninis, and we can’t resist.

We admire the panoramic view of the city before getting back on the motorway.



Driver swap—two of us is exhausting with Italian-style driving!

We finally pass Milan, and our BnB isn’t far now.

The village of Boffalora Sopra Ticino has a lovely setting along the Naviglio Grande, one of the region’s canals.

Not a tourist in sight—we’re far from the overcrowded towns and villages we passed through on this trip.



Few locals around this season either, so dinner options are limited.

Yet my partner will eat the best carbonara of his life here—proving that appearances can be deceiving!

See you tomorrow in France for the wrap-up of this trip...

Fréjus Tunnel or not?

That is the question this morning.

No more desire to be cooped up under the mountain today than there was 3 weeks ago, so we took the Mont-Cenis Pass instead.



A few hours later, we’re home—this trip is over.

So, overtourism in the Balkans or not?

I was expecting the worst, but the worst rarely happened.

Sure, towns and villages have become commercial enterprises, but the crowds weren’t overwhelming. Maybe the June effect?

The coastline is still accessible and peaceful in many places, and the countryside and mountains aren’t exactly swamped.

If I were to do it again, I’d avoid Budva and its surroundings, as well as the Kravica waterfalls. Instead, I’d spend more time inland in Montenegro.

Not sure if this travel journal has inspired any Balkans trips, but my advice is: don’t wait too long for Montenegro.

Avoiding the summer season (July through September) is also a good idea if you’re hoping for a more relaxed trip...

See you soon in the Indian Ocean! !

Oh! It's coming to an end. Thanks again for these discoveries.

All good things must come to an end. 😉

I’m not sure if this travel journal adds anything new compared to the ones already written—these countries are pretty touristy, so there’s probably a lot of overlap!

Well, I guess I didn’t read enough because there were places I hadn’t even thought of. In any case, I really liked it.

Thanks. 🙂