We left home at 7:30am, and for once we left exactly on time. It was a good positive start which always sets the tone for Julie's state of mind. We made good progress to Starbucks near Bodelwyddan where we stopped for a coffee and pastries.

The next leg of the journey however was delayed by a broken down lorry bringing traffic on the A55 to a standstill. We crawled along for half an hour, cranking Julie's anxiety with  every minute that passed.

We then got a phonecall from our guests staying at one of the cottages complaining that their bathroom tap was dripping. There's no peace to be had with running a holiday cottage business! We asked Hannah & Tim to pop over to at least attempt to fix it. Julie was on the verge of breaking point. Her fear of flying is showing no signs of going away. 

Despite the setbacks and irritations we reached the Jet Parks 3 long stay car park and caught the shuttle bus to Manchester Terminal 1 in plenty of time.  Check-in and security gates went smoothly and Tim phoned to say he sorted out the drip.

A resemblence of calmness was restored.

We grabbed breakfast at the "pub". It may have looked like a Wetherspoons but it wasn't Wetherspoons prices. It was so expensive for the quality. We then went shopping, buying our usual champagne and Toberlone. I also bought some flip-flops, Julie a new Jo Malone fragrance and we stocked up on sandwiches from Pret-a-Manger for lunch.

Our gate number came up and we boarded smoothly. Julie had regained her composure and was holding back her fears quite well.

The flight was slightly delayed but we made up time over mainland Europe, flying over the Alps, then following the Adriatic coast South, which was almost exclusively Croatia.

We turned inland over the beautiful red rooftops of an old Venetian walled city. At first I thought it was Dubrovnik but it was Budva.

We began our descent over the foothills of Mount Lovćen, its forrested slopes lush and green. The name Montenegro means the black mountain, as does Crna Gora, its name in the Montenegrin language. We both had our heads in the window in awe of the landscape. Julie almost admitted to having a pleasant flight.

Just under three hours from Manchester we touched down smoothly at Tivat airport and the passengers erupted into spontaenous applause. I rolled my eyes. 

We queued to get our passports checked and stamped. Montenegro wasn't part of the European Union so it was nice to collect a new stamp in the passport.

The country had a fascinating recent history.

Montenegro only gained its independence in 2006. When Yugoslavia fell apart in the early nineties, Serbia and Montenegro joined forces and refused to let go of the past, continuing to use the name Republic of Yugoslavia.

Then after a referendum, Serbia and Montenegro went their seperate ways.

 After collecting our suitcase we went to the Europacar desk to collect our hire car for the week. There was only one man working, booking people in and then taking them out to their car.

We were only the third in line but after almost 40 minues we were still waiting.

 Eventually we followed him to the car park where we were given the keys to a brand new Volkswagen Polo. It has something like 600km on the mile-o-metre.

He checked the fuel and we were practically empty. The range showed 20km.

We were told to turn left towards Tivat. So we left the airport and came to the town of Mrčevac, where we stopped at the first "gas station". I don't know why I decided to just put €20 of petrol into the tank. The price was relatively cheap compared to home. It only filled half the tank. I should have filled it to the top.

Next to the petrol station was a supermarket called Idea. We took the opportunity to stock up on supplies for the next few days. It's always fun to browse supermarket shelves in a foreign land. It's a great way to get a feel for the country.

Our bill came to €24.80 and we had a trolley full. 2 bottles of wine, 3 bottles of beer, 3 bottles of water, 2 loaves, butter, orange juice, yogurt, strawberries, tomatoes, garlic and a pot of something that looked like potato salad. It was a bargain.

Back in the car we drove back towards the airport. It felt odd going back the way we came but our SatNav took us on the shortest route. It took us through a very long tunnel through the mountains, popping out the other side in Kotor.

 I drove really carefully through the town. It was very busy, not cars on the road but with people crossing it. It was also a beautiful town, with the old walls and the striking mountain back drop. 

About 15 minutes later we reached Perast and turned off the main road at the furthest end of the village. There were plenty of places to park which was a relief. I had been worrying about it. I also expected to pay €2 a day but it was free until the end of May.

We continued on foot towards the centre of the town. It was absolutely stunning, right on the water of the Kotor Bay. We walked past the Palazzo Museum towards the bell tower of the Crkva Svetog Nikole, the 17th century church of St. Nicholas.

We were on the look out for our apartment. There wasn't an address as such only a name, Apartments Gudco, Perast. We stopped to ask two elderly couples, who were sat at outside their house, if they knew where it was. They shook their heads.

I then tried the names, "Milan & Lubljica Gudelj?"    

One of the ladies knew who we were talking about and very kindly took us to the door. Balloons were hanging off the handrail. "They must be having a party" said Julie, before adding "I should have been a detective" tapping the side of her head, mimicking my mother.

 We knocked but there was no answer. The local woman didn't mess about. She pushed us out of the way, opened the door and ushered us in. 

We stepped inside a small courtyard or alley. "Hello?" I called. There were voices coming from the far end, "Hellooooo?" I called again.

Eventually someone came out. He introduced himself as Branko, son of Milan and Lubljica. He didn't usually live here, but had come back home for two weeks for the baptism of his daughter, Anita, hence the party balloons.

He also mentioned that it was a shame we missed the "Shooting of the Cockerel", a local festival on the 15th May where the town celebrates their victory over the Ottomans in 1654!  Apparently a real chicken floats on a board 300m out into the bay and a competition takes place to shoot it.

He showed us to our room and we paid our €120 in cash. In return he handed over the keys for the next three nights.

We returned to the car and drove into the village to drop off our luggage and shopping bags. I drove the car back and by the time I got back to the apartment Julie had kept everything in its place.

With everything settled we went out for a stroll along waterfront. For such a small town it was filled with gorgeous churches and palaces. The Venetians built what we see today. They ruled the Adriatic coast for centuries, leaving behind their beautiful architecture.

It was an incredibly attractive place. It was also incredibly peaceful. There was no traffic. All we could hear was the lapping of the water.

A wonderful feeling of total serenity came over us.

At restaurant Konoba Skolji we decided to stop for a drink and check out their menu. With only €8 cash in our pockets and no ATMs in Perast, we made sure they accepted card payments before ordering.

The waiter was very welcoming, handing over their funky wooden folder menu. He was very attentive, pointing out all the vegetarian options on the menu.  

A chilled bottle of Montenegrin Sauvingon Blanc was brought to our table outside. We both sat overlooking Kotor Bay as the sun was setting behind the mountains.

"What a stunning place" I said, feeling glad to be alive. 

They had a barbecue outside, where all their chargrilled meats were cooked. Julie went for the chicken with boiled potatoes, which she enjoyed. My vegetable risotto was fresh and delicious, if a little too wet.

We also had a fabulous shopska salad on the side, a Balkan variation of a Greek salad. And we had some roasted red peppers as a side dish. They're currently Julie's new favourite food, despite them repeating on her, just like her mother.

The waiter kept on trying to persuade us to have dessert, pushing their "homemade layers of cake". He was very polite whilst being relentless at the same time. Eventually I succumbed to the cake.

It was amazing. I don't know how to describe it. It was a simple sponge cake but the bottom third was soaked in cream, then it was topped with a lovely salted caramel sauce. It was so comforting.

The bill came to €48 which was great value considering how much we drank.

We left Konoba Skolji and made our way back towards our apartment. Along the way we came across a small bar called Armonia. It was playing some great bluesy music so we thought one more for the road. The last €8 must in my pocket was more than enough to pay for a round of drinks, a beer and a wine, priced at an extremely reasonable €4.90.

Although you do pay for what you get.  The quality was €4.90 worth.

They had football on the TV which was great. I asked if they ever show English Premier League games but it was only usually French or Italian, or the domestic leagues of Serbia, Croatia and Montenegro.

The live game was FK Javor Ivanjica v FK Crvena Zvezda, better known in the English media as Red Star Belgrade. The match ended 3-0 to the most succesful team from the whole Balkans.

I've always known the name of the club. It's woven into the history of Manchester United. In 1958 the Busby Babes played against Red Star Belgrade, drawing 3-3, securing their place in the semi-finals of the European Cup. On their way home they re-fuelled in Munich, crashing on their third attempt of take-off. The disaster took the lives of twenty three, which included eight players.

 The first day of any adventure is always the longest day, so we were ready to call it a night. Shortly after 9pm we were back at the apartment. We put the TV on but after 15 minutes we had seen enough and it was time for lights out.