November is the Perfect Month to Cycle the Bay of Kotor

That feeling again. That delicious, electrifying feeling. It pumps from my heart through my bloodstream and outward to the cells of my body. An electric shockwave of energy surging from my heart to my feet, pedaling beneath me. I let out a sigh of amazement. 

I get this rush of feelings every time I cross the border of a country I’ve never been, and the waves of exhilaration are even more intense when I’m graced with a spectacular view, such as this one: majestic mountains of Montenegro.

I rode the descent from the Croatian/Montenegro border until I cycled to the end of the road and right up to the sea. I was in Igalo, looking out over the ocean set against the backdrop of dramatic limestone mountains. 

Not a view from Igalo, but a view of the Bay of Kotor from Zanjev Do

After snapping a couple of photos of the view, I turned left and cycled down the promenade into Herceg Novi.

It was late October, and the temps this far south were still quite pleasant. There were plenty of locals strolling along the promenade, but it was not so crowded that I couldn’t freely cycle without having to come to near stops behind people. I didn’t even have to ring my bell, actually. There were several vendors and cafes open, and in the center of town were children running around and even a couple of folks braving the chilly ocean.

I cycled up and into the city, stopping in front of a tall apartment building where my host for the next month lived.

Dee was born in Bosnia, but her parents moved her and her family to Canada during the Bosnian war in the 1990’s. Her mother, who was born in Montenegro (former Yugoslavia), bought a home in Herceg Novi after the war. Dee was now staying with her mom there until the house she bought in the village of Mojdež is renovated enough for her to move in.

And that is why I’m in Montenegro. I am going to be assisting in the renovation of Dee’s house.

Dee’s little stone house sat atop a mountainous village above Herceg Novi. The house was mid-renovation. We washed our dishes in a sink outside, used a convection oven with an electric stovetop for cooking, and bathed in a makeshift shower on the side of the house outside. On the sunny days I worked in the gardens, on the rainy days I worked inside sanding and painting. I took care of the many cats, ducks, and sometimes Luna the dog during my month there.

View from my bedroom from the village of Mojdež

Before taking me to the house, however, Dee cooked me breakfast and we sat down to eat on her back porch which, if not for all of the vegetation, would have a beautiful view of the sea.

Breakfast consisted of coffee and burek. Burek is a type of puff pastry popular in the Balkans. It’s often stuffed with various fillings; meat, cheese, spinach, leek. Dee’s burek was stuffed with potatoes. The spiral pastry was filling and so delicious.

After breakfast Dee took me around town. She had a small white dog named Luna, who was sweet, hyper, and needy. We walked Luna through the city center as Dee took me through hidden stairways that led us into wide open spaces, each leading down another corridor. At the center of the town square, Herceg Stjepan, sits the Church of the Archangel Saint Michael, where Dee’s daughter was baptized. 

“There used to be two palm trees here,” she pointed to two empty squares in the ground. “But there were red weevils, they’re like beetles, that infested the trees so they had to be removed.” This has apparently been a problem all over Montenegro and in other areas of the Mediterranean. 

Right across from the Church there is an adorable little bookshop nestled within the ancient stone walls of Old Town. For such a tiny shop, I was surprised to find books written in so many different languages. They also sold locally crafted trinkets, souvenirs, and art. It was late October, so they had a display of Halloween themed gifts for sale. Cats were sauntering in and out of the shop, which added an extra element of charm to the place. It kind of reminded me of the travel book shop in that movie, Notting Hill, only instead of Julia Roberts you get cats.

On a crisp October evening I paid a visit to the UNESCO World Heritage site aptly called Forte Mare, or Sea Fortress. The fortress sits just above the harbor at the edge of Old Town. Lights gave the town a warm amber glow, with the Clock Tower gleaming in a soft red at the center.

Dee also took me, another traveler, and her son to visit the Savina Monastery. She described the history and significance of the Orthodox religion in the former Yugoslavia. Savina Monastery sits above Herceg Novi and consists of three Serbian Orthodox churches, and a captivating cemetery that overlooks the bay.

During our hike down to the promenade, we came across a friendly black kitten that appeared to be a stray. Dee, whose heart is as big as the Adriatic sea, couldn’t help herself. She scooped the little guy up, not owning a concern over the fact that she had three feral rescue cats at her home in Mojdež, and one honorary cat who belongs to the next door neighbor but has taken up residence at Dee’s. We took turns holding our new furry friend while we walked down the promenade. As we made our way to the Citadel ruins, she explained that these giant stone walls were sitting in the Adriatic sea after an earthquake in the late 1970’s.

On a sunny November morning, I shared a departing breakfast with Dee before resuming my route around the Bay of Kotor.

I couldn’t have chosen a better time to do it. The route is approximately 74 km (46 miles), not including the Serpentine Road, which I took up to continue south towards Albania. The entire Bay can easily be cycled in a day but if you want to linger longer you could split it between two days.

I’ll admit I was pretty nervous about cycling in Montenegro after learning that popular opinion is that it’s very dangerous because of the heavy traffic and the agitation drivers feel towards cyclists. If you google the Bay of Kotor cycling route right now you’ll see many posts and blog articles about how dangerous and sketchy it is. The traffic in Bosnia & Herzegovina was not so nice when I had to cycle on main roads or narrow streets there, and it sounded like Montenegro would be even more intimidating.

My experience, thankfully, was starkly different. I have no doubt that my decision to cycle the route in November created a cycling experience that was safe, comfortable, and entirely enjoyable.

The day I cycled the Bay was sunny and temperate. The sun cast rays of glistening warmth onto the sea. I stayed off of the main road as much as I could, cycling close to the coast on the smaller streets. The coastal villages were cloaked in serene charm. There are three in particular I’ll mention in this article. 

Perast

If you’re cycling around the Bay clockwise, Perast will be one of the first towns you’ll want to stop. If you’re cycling counter-clockwise, it’ll be the last before you get to Herceg Novi. 

When I got to the border of the town, there were police blocking off the roads. The town was putting on some event for the state holiday in remembrance of Petar II Petrović Njegoš, a renowned Serbian poet. Several pedestrians were waiting behind the ribbon, and I figured it was just a temporary stop, so I waited with them. Within minutes the ribbon was removed, but I decided to walk my bike as I leisured past the life-like displays of 19th century Slavic markets. I’m assuming this was a setup for the holiday events. 

Perast hugs right up against the sea, and two small islets sit just offshore, reachable by boat. A baroque bell tower looks over the little town, greeting visitors. 

I imagine Perast gets quite congested during the summer, especially with the boat tours that take you to Our Lady of the Rocks (one of the islets) and several other popular tourist spots. But in November the streets felt roomy and it was easy to walk leisurely along the slick, stone streets, even with my bike. 

One of the islets, Our Lady of the Rocks, has an interesting history. It was built by sailors who would lay a stone whenever they returned from sea voyages safe and sound. Over time, there were enough rocks to make a foundation for a church, which can now be visited by taking a boat to the islet.

Sveti Dorde is even more fascinating, as it very rarely allows visitors. A Benedictine monastery sits there surrounded by Cypress trees.

Tivat

To get to Tivat I crossed from Kamenari on a ferry. The lady at the booth let me take my bike on without buying a ticket. It’s possible they may charge during the busier months. It was a short ride across the bay, only a few minutes.

I didn’t spend much time in Tivat, and didn’t even get any photos there. There are some popular tourist spots like the Blue Cave and the Submarine which I, unfortunately, did not get the chance to visit. That is one of the downsides of traveling in off-season; these types of activities are often not available or open.

I did take a short stroll along the coastline, and stopped at a cute French cafe called Ma Chérie to grab a pastry. It was pretty quiet, but again I can imagine how alive the place would be in the warmer months.

Though I didn’t engage in any tourist attractions, I did grab a few groceries and hygiene items. There are plenty of shops, restaurants, and bank ATMs all around town.

Kotor

Kotor is the largest and liveliest town on the Bay. The town had recently been decorated for Christmas, with a tree at the city center and lights all around the town walls.

I stayed overnight there so I could enjoy some exploration and allow the decorations to spark a little Christmas spirit within me.

I got up early to hike up the mountain from the Ladder of Kotor trail. Most people take the trail straight to the back wall of Kotor Fortress, where a rickety metal ladder sits just under a hole in the wall allowing hikers to enter the fortress the ‘back way.’ 

If you take a left up the hill at the cheese house, rather than going down to the Fortress, you can hike all the way up to Zanjev Do, a village that rests high above Kotor and provides visitors with the most magnificent view of the entire Bay. I would be cycling up there the following day via the Serpentine Road, but I wanted to get a good hike in so I went all the way to the top. 

On the way up I encountered many goats and many bulls. Since the bulls were with their babies, I climbed up some rocks to meet the trail at a higher point to avoid disturbing them. 

After snapping a few photos from the observation deck at Horizont Cafe (best views of the Bay), I hiked back down the trail, this time making my way behind the cheese house, to check out the Fortress. On the way you see an old stone church. Take a right down the path behind the church and you’ll come to a questionable ladder that offers a ‘back door’ entrance to Kotor Fortress for the brave hikers who dare to take the climb. 

I watched two people emerge from the little window of the wall and climb down the ladder before the couple ahead of me slowly inched their way toward the ladder. They had said they wanted to enter the Fortress but were afraid of climbing the ladder, which sits just on the edge of the cliff. After placing their feet on the rungs a few times, they ultimately abandoned the mission and hiked back.

I climbed the ladder and entered the Fortress very near to the top. I spent some time walking up and down the stone steps, exploring the many nooks of the fortress. If you enter via the ladder, there is no way you can exit out the front, as technically you’re supposed to pay to get in. Once I had a good look around, I climbed back down the ladder and returned to the start of the trail in the town center. 

Inside the Venetian town walls of Kotor you can walk through hidden alleyways and have your choice of restaurants, jazz clubs, and gelato stands. There are also quite a few cat souvenir shops, and I passed by a cat museum but didn’t go in.

There are several churches to visit, if that’s your thing, and many boutiques to check out. At the time I was there, the town was adorned with Christmas displays at the corners of the stone walls, and the city center donned its very own Christmas tree. Twinkle lights draped the outside of the town walls, and inside the restaurants you could hear pianists playing the occasional holiday tune. 

Just outside the town walls you’ll find a few vendors serving street food and dutch pancakes - you can enjoy a snack as you walk along the harbor.

Leaving Kotor, I cycled up the winding Serpentine Road. It’s an approximately 8.3km (5.16 mile) road, taking you up a gradual grade of 16 hairpin turns. It took me almost three hours to cycle up, and was a little drizzly on and off. It was quite chilly and by the time I made it to Zanjev Do my toes were pretty frozen, but after a snack I forged on towards Cetinje. (Read more about my journey through Montenegro to Albania).

The biggest positive was that there was very little traffic. I had read a blog post from another cyclist who took the Serpentine Road in the summer and wrote that you basically have to start at 6am in the morning so you can be back down before all of the giant tour buses start heading up. The roads are narrow and the switchbacks can be blindspots for such large vehicles. In fact, if two vehicles are going in opposite directions; one up and one down, one has to back up and allow the other to pass through. There’s not enough room for both vehicles to pass at the same moment.

The mornings in November are pretty chilly, so I just didn’t see a world in which I would get up at 6am to start cycling this time of year. I also wouldn’t be coming back down since I was going straight up and over to continue south. My anxieties about the safety levels of the road were unfounded. I am convinced that anyone cycling this road will have a very enjoyable experience during off-season. Just dress warmly!

Given that everyone I have heard about how dangerous the roads in Montenegro are for cycling, I was pleasantly surprised at how easy, safe, and enjoyable my experience was. This had me reflecting on which is better; cycling during summer or winter… or, peak season vs. off-season.

I’ve concluded that there are comparable pros and cons to both. I’ve identified four categories that can sway one’s preference: 1) weather, 2) tourism, 3) traffic, and 4) daylight

Weather

If you don’t mind cold weather, cycling during off-season will be a dream for you. I, personally, do not like cold weather. I’m learning to put up with it, but I’m from the desert and I like desert weather. I can cycle in the heat all day long. I’m talking 35-38 Celsius (95-100 Farenheit). I know how to cope with the heat and really, I thrive in it. Put me in cold weather and I whimper like a dog who struck its paw. My extremities numb out so quick, my nose runs, and I lose energy. So for me, cycling in summer and sun is preferable.

I will say, however, that October can be the most pleasant month to cycle if the weather is mild, and I think that somewhat depends on where you are. While I cycled the Bay of Kotor in November, I was granted sun and warmth during my day around the bay. My ride up the Serpentine Road was quite cold, though, especially up at the top. 

With colder weather you get colder water. There are fewer things more gratifying than taking a dip in a cool stream or salty ocean on a hot sunny day, especially after hours of cycling. In the winter, that’s not so enjoyable for me. I’ve always wanted to do an Arctic swim, but I am a wimp through and through when it comes to cold water. 

As I was cycling on the coast of Perast it was so sunny and the water was such beautiful shades of turquoise, teal, and sapphire - I thought about how nice it would be to swim and explore some of the surrounding caves and grottos. As nice as it appeared, the water is much too cold to do that.

Tourism

This is one of those things that can be both a positive and a negative when it comes to traveling during peak season. Everyone complains about large crowds of tourists but sometimes it’s nice to meet people from all over the world and listen to their stories. Plus, in the midst of years of solo travel, being around people even if I don’t know them can sometimes make me feel less alone. It’s a good reminder of life.

Crowds can be a nuisance sometimes, though. I find there’s a sweet spot between tourist season and off-season. Late fall and mid-spring seem to strike a good balance — decent weather, fewer crowds, but still enough buzz to keep things lively.

Another benefit to traveling during tourist season is that most everything is open and running. Some places I have cycled during off-season were like ghost towns, and some even looked abandoned. Many businesses are closed and town centers feel a little dreary. Some people prefer it that way, sure. For me, I like a balance. I get overwhelmed when things are too crowded but if it’s empty it’s a little depressing (unless I’m in the mountains or the wilderness, which is very different than cycling through towns and cities).

Traffic

This is one that is almost always better in the off-season. The only exception might be bad weather like snow in the mountains or intense rain, which can make cycling on the roads as dangerous as driving on them.

But traffic is inevitably lighter during off-season, and in some places you may have long stretches of road all to yourself. Cycling through Montenegro I had some days where I saw only a handful of vehicles up on the mountain roads. 

I definitely saw plenty of traffic cycling the Bay of Kotor, but it wasn’t heavy - it was actually quite calm. I felt a lot safer there than I did cycling on the roads in Bosnia & Herzegovina. 

Locals, blog posts, and other cyclists who have done this route before had me scared of cycling these roads. It turned out to be really enjoyable and safe, and I have no doubt that had everything to do with the fact that I did this route in November. In fact, I didn’t see a single tour bus during my three hours cycling up the Serpentine Road.

Daylight

Shorter days are a definite drawback to cycling during the off-season. In summer, I can take my time finding a nice camping spot, and cycle longer if I don’t find one I like. In winter, the days are much shorter - in November it was getting dark around 4-4:30pm. That meant I wanted to find a spot to sleep by 3pm. Given that it was so cold, I often stayed in a guesthouse in lieu of camping. Accommodation in Montenegro and Albania is pretty cheap, even cheaper than some campsites I stayed at in Germany and France, so it worked in my favor. 

There’s a sense of pressure I feel when I know I only have a few hours in the day, especially since I don’t really know where I might be sleeping that night. There was at least once on my way from Herceg Novi to the Albanian border when I had to cycle down the mountain in the dark before I finally found a decent place to sleep.

November is the perfect month to cycle in Montenegro

With all the benefits and drawbacks, I have to say that I slightly prefer cycling in peak season, or summer, than off-season for the simple fact that I love the heat and the sun. However, I am glad that I was able to cycle the Bay of Kotor during off-season, and I firmly believe I couldn’t have chosen a better time than November.

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