Orchids, butterflies and monasteries

While yesterday’s explorations were by boat, today we continue along the lakeside by car.  The narrow road winds its way up high above the lake, offering breathtaking views across the greens and blues towards the mountains of Albania. This is the ‘Orchid Route’, a small area between lake and sea where 20 of Montenegro’s 45 orchid species can be found and the road is edged in a glorious array of wild flowers and medicinal herbs. 

We make our way down to the shore via a series of precipitous bends. I’m so grateful for G’s driving skills and quick reactions as we meet odd locals speeding round the bends - and this is not the place for easy reversing! 

We reach the beach, bizarrely deserted but for a small herd of donkeys, and try to find someone to take us over to the island of Beska where there is a monastery we want to visit. There’s one boat there, but the place seems completely deserted until a local man comes lumbering towards us. We try negotiating prices, but in the end agree his rates, and he takes us, agreeing to return after an hour. 

The place is beautiful and peaceful, run by some 18 sisters, the first of whom had overseen the restoration of the crumbling churches dating back to the C14th. We see some of the sisters working in the gardens, clad from head to toe in black despite the blistering heat, and we’re approached by a young nun who offers to show us inside the church. Sister Paula is serenely beautiful, exuding an air of calm and peace. She apologises for her English which of course is more than adequate, explaining the history of the island and showing us the glorious frescoes inside the church. Our visit over, we are offered pomegranate juice in a shaded area of the garden where we sit and talk. Her parents experienced the horrors of the Bosnian conflict, and within the monastery there are nuns from both Ukraine and Russia. ‘We’re all the same people,’ she says sadly, ‘it makes no sense.’  So true. 

Suddenly she stops as there’s a humming overhead: a drone. Despite her serenity, she’s angry at this intrusion - a frequent occurrence it seems. She does not even want her photo taken (I ask, suspecting the response) let alone a mobile surveillance filming her at her bedroom window. They could put up signs, she says, but they would be ignored. 

We’re sad to leave this peaceful place and Sister Paula, but our boat has now returned, and back on shore we head back up the road to the higher point of Livari. Somehow we miss the ancient waterholes, but discover a beautiful old village lost in time and a pond alive with dragonflies dashing around crazily, the crashing of wings indicating a successful if brief moment of union. I try desperately to catch them flying but it is impossible, settling instead for stationery shots of ovipositing or branch resting. 

It’s been another stunning day, ending in an excellent barbecue dinner prepared by Nicholas the young Argentinian camp chef, slowly working his way around the world.

It’s hard today to choose between a Scarce Swallowtail, brilliantly spotted by G in the monastery gardens, or a Broad Bodied Chaser photographed at the pond in Livari. I go for the butterfly, adding a view of the island monastery, frescos, views and orchids/flowers. Oh, and in response to requests ‘the tent’ - with G collapsed on the bed after a very arduous drive!

Thanks so much again for your kind comments, hearts and stars - particularly when I’ve been so absent from your journals!