PETRA
Tired after cycling uphill far longer than downhill, Anne, Flo, Alen and I’ve finally reached Šavnik, our long expected destination, and synonim for lunch and rest. Town is small and a living fairytale. One little road, a shop, a center with two trees promising a shelter away from noon sunlight and crystal- clear river running straight through the center. As we’ve marched into the town our welcoming party were shop’s owner, a salesgirl, and local football team. The shop’s owner gave us 4 Coctas and casually tried to arrange my marriage with one of the players (Alen, on the other hand, didn’t feel like saving me from Montenegro’s Don Juan). The salesgirl wished to know my name in order to send me friend request on FB, plus she was delighted when realized Alen shares her family name. The sun had no mercy on our already burnt skin, while the river seemed as an only cure. The first one to enter was Flo, whose face became a thermometer giving us a clue of how low the is the mercury column (concerning mountain ranges around, a spring could be quite close). My first swim lasted cca 4 seconds, during which I’ve estimated ‘pleasant’ 14ºc. While collecting my bravery for the second swim, out of nowhere emerged Alen behind me with a camera installed on his head. He swiftly sprinkled his chest and stomach, squeaked and jumped ON HIS HEAD. He came up with eyes wide open, opening his mouth like a fish on a dry land. He turned on his turbo mode and landed on the bank almost before he was inside the lake. The rest of us on the bank laughed so hard that our serotonin level went quite high. Priceless! The only thing I regret is the fact I didn’t hold that camera at that moment. On our daily menu werewarmed-up delicacies, which we selflessly decided to share with the shop owner. While in the cool under the tree Anne gave her DIY course for making pots of Cocta stoppers, Flo caught midday sleep and Alen did his sketching. After some time all of us, but Alen, went to take a nap. Through my sleep I could hear Alen talking to someone about bussiness meeting, then he stood up and left. I’ve just been too tired to open my eyes and join. While he did bussiness, we went back to the river for a swim and finally managed to climatise to its temperatures. Kids played volleyball in the river and jumped off the bridge, while football players watched the time needed to swim across the river. Alen joined us, talking details about meeting with young hopes of Montenegro and Serbian tourism. He got an offer for ex-Yu partnership, but it didn’t seem like he’s buyin’ its success.
ALEN
Right through the center of a village clear river flows. While noon sunlight burns my back, I’m standing at the bank of cold Bukovica preparing for a jump. Not only that it’s shallow, but also freezingly cold. Petra, Anne and Flo are right beside, waiting for me to break the ice. Not that far away children jump off a bridge. Screams and laughter echo through a valley, reminding me of the time when I was a kid, taking a swim in the ice-cold Klenovnica lake. Blue lips, shaky jaw and giant grin. All in all, I’ve jumped into the river and in that moment I’ve instantly felt my brain freezing over. Expression of shock on my face accompanied with suitable unarticulated scream appeared as a pure reflex. Great way to freshen up before lunchtime. We’ve hiden into a shade of a fat linden-tree. I’ve pulled out can of beans with sausages and bag with vegetables from my saddle bags. The owner of a closest shop came to say hi, carying Coctas as a present. We’ve offered him to share our lunch. We’ve talked pleasently and after a while he returned to his work. We were waiting for the sun to give us a break. As I closed my eyes to think, right in fornt of me came a young man to ask whether those bikes were ours. We’ve started a conversation, and few moments later I found myself sitting at the table with a Serbian and Montenegro guy. The two guys are starting a tour guide agency in Montenegro. The guy from Montenegro is an organizer while Serbian guy is a PR responisble for public relations. The guy from Montenegro starts his talk by clapping hands and saying we would’ve made a great international organization together. We’ve got a Serbian, guy from Montenegro and a Croat. They presented me with their ambitious plan, saying they know few sport amateurs, and I, as a traveller, could bring few Czechs or Germans crying out for adventures. We’ll organize tours by people’s interest. The folk could choose from various extreme sports, and I would get a provision for every group I organize. However, it’s still early for more detailed information since they’ve just started with the whole thing and their web page is under construction. As I asked about the info I could be offering the future clients, the guy from Montenegro said he forgot the info CD home and doesn’t feel like going back for it. At that point I realized that our co-operation is going downhill in its very beginning.
