This is going to be a short post, mainly because I don’t have much that’s interesting to say about Budva.
The bus from Kotor to Budva took less than an hour. I walked in the already scorching heat to my hostel, where it was too early to check in. This was not my first choice of accommodation, but as it was high season and I booked at the last minute, this was about all I could find. While sweating on the common room couch (which was later covered with a sheet and charged as a bed, I believe), I met a couple of backpackers heading into town and asked if I could join them. After stops at a bookstore (one of the guys was collecting a copy of Lord of the Rings in every language) and another hostel to meet up with other travelers, the group of us sweated away the afternoon at a bar/cafe in the Stari Grad.
In the afternoon, I tried to cool off a bit by heading to the beach, which was definitely a see-and-be-seen sort of place. It was like Club Med, only everyone was speaking Russian.
Unable to bear the heat anymore, I walked past the plethora of yachts on the dock and back to the hostel to check in. I had a private
closet room with its own bathroom and a dust-caked fan wedged between the wall and the foot of the bed. In the hallway, I met a friendly German guy with a Fantastic Mr. Fox tattoo on his arm, then kindly declined a staff member’s offer of weed (um, thanks but no thanks?). Later on, I rejoined the group for dinner and a drink, but the scene along the strip of beachside clubs was not really up our alley. Overly loud techno music, young women with sky-high heels and obvious plastic surgery, and laughably ostentatious decor. An Eiffel Tower with strobe lights and disco balls? A neon-lit glass waterfall? Really?
Although we were enjoying each other’s company, we called it a night fairly soon since some of us had to leave early the next morning. That night, I had to tip the fan precariously backwards in order to keep my toes from hitting the fan blades in my sleep, which was restless on account of the dust-induced sneezing fits.
In the morning, I tiptoed passed the sleeping backpackers on the couches and the patio tables strewn with overflowing ashtrays and beer bottles on my way out the door. (Needless to say, this was not an A+ hostel experience). I was all too happy to be leaving Budva: I had a shuttle to Albania to catch.