We were on a roll. We hitchhiked from Holland to the southernmost part of Croatia - staunchly refusing to take any kind of paid transportation. When we reached Montenegro, however, some Stones blocked our way, and messed up our plans. Because of a Rolling Stones concert in a village nearby (Budva), we had to take a bus from a nearby town to Podgorica, Montenegro’s capitol. And what are the Stones doing in Montenegro anyways?

Aside from that one detour, our trip went just as planned. After our stay in Zagreb we travelled south through the coastal city of Split, then Dubrovnik, then Podgorica. At the moment we’re waiting on our ‘fugon’ (mini-van), which will take us to Shkoder, a town in the north of Albania. Our plan is to get to Durres today; our final destination.

In this town (Ulcin) about half the people are Albanians, and it’s been great to finally speak some Albanian again. I get very confused though, because throughout our travels we’ve spoken English, German, French, Albanian with others, and Dutch with my co-hitchhiker. A few minutes ago, I started a conversation with ‘Excuse me’ (I forgot the Albanian for that), asked for the time in broken French, used some German words for no reason, and padded all that with (I hope) some decent Albanian.

Of course the reply was in the Montenegran dialect of Serbian/Slavic, and she didn’t understand a word of what I said. Her eyes just sort of glazed over and she smiled. We get that a lot in this region. For some reason, I enjoy all this confusion.