The mattress was old, definitely well slept in, the bedding was old fashioned sheets and blankets, none of these modern duvets, and we possibly had the best sleep of our lives! Neither of us remember waking up in the night, not once. It had been over 11 hours!

There was an air-freshners dispensing a pffft released every 15 minutes, and there was a clock, with the clockwork tick worthy of a Grandfather clock, but even they didn't keep us awake. 

Breakfast was a challenge. We had bought sliced bread for toast but there was no toaster, not even a grill in the oven, nor a gas hob to char the bread. With hindsight perhaps we could have fried some bread (without oil) but instead we made a sandwich with incredibly white butter, which I worried was just lard, and lashings of cream cheese.

Another thing missing to kick-start our day was coffee. We forgot to buy any. There was some left-over green tea, but that didn't really get us going.

At about 11am we decided to start the day. The nearest cash point was in the town of Risan, 5km away, so that was our plan.

The town of Risan appeared to have no character, certainly nowhere near as nice as Perast. The Venetians didn't leave much of a mark here, that's for sure. It did have a small old town but it was lost amongst the over development. There was even a large modern resort called Hotel Teuta, named after an Illyrian Queen.

Risan was once the seat of their power, and a fort discovered here is one of the earliest settlements on the Bay of Kotor dating back to the 3rd century BC. 

Then the Romans came, saw and conquered, establishing the port of Rhisinium. Not much remains from that time but a 2nd century Roman villa was found. It was possible to visit so we parked the car on a side street and walked up to find the museum.

A coach load of people arrived just before us, swamping the place but they literally spent five minutes inside before leaving. Afterwhich we had the place to ourselves.

A large steel structure had been built over the site to protect it from the elements but the large inner courtyard was open. We walked along an elevated walkway, allowing us to get close to the mosaics without trampling on anything important.

Discovered in 1930, Polish archaeologists carefully excavated seven rooms revealing beautiful mosaic floors. It's believed that the villa was in fact a hospitium, a kind of hotel and tavern.

The most important of the floors was a mosaic depicting a reclining figure of Hypnos, the Greek god of sleep. Whilst the others were mostly black and white geometric patterns, this used very fine tiles to weave an delicate design. The use of many colours was also noticably different.

Apparently it's the only example of a mosaic floor specifically attributed to Hypnos. 

As fascinating as it all was, and after rolling our eyes at the coach load that came and went in a flash, we ourselves probably spent no more than 15 minutes inside.

Next we walked back into the town, to look for an ATM. The path took us through a small shady park with the bust of a "National Hero" called Nikola Đurković.

Just behind it was the small church of the Archangel St. Michael and the much larger orthodox church of the Saints Peter and Paul. The most predominant organised religion in Montenegro was the Serbian Orthodox Church, a branch of the Eastern Orthodox Church expanded during the Byzantine era. 

A priest came out of his church, dressed head to toe in black, with a long white beard, very much looking the orthodox part.

We popped inside a small supermarket and picked up some supplies, then found the post office, which was literlly a room with a small desk and a very big safe behind it. On the wall outside there was an ATM.

I took €200 out. Unfortunately the machine in its wisdom dispensed two €100 notes. "That'll be handy when we pay for my €2 beer!" I moaned. 

Next door was Cafe Hipnos,  we now know, named after the Greek god.

They had some waterfront tables a little further down the road. Missing my morning coffee I ordered an Americano and Julie had water. It was a peaceful spot, despite being on the main road.

The water was incredibly clear. We could see the fish swimming deep below the surface. I stared at them for so long they became very hypnotic, which was ironic. 

We returned to Perast and parked the car. It was a lot busier than when we left with several large coaches taking up all the space. Two guys were directing us to a space but I ignored them and continued all the way down to the end, mostly to drop Julie off with the shopping bags. As it happened there was a spot to park right there.

Both unofficial "parking attendants" came down and demanded €2. We knew it was free to park but didn't argue with them. They had the power to look after or not look after our car.

Back in the apartment we had lunch. Julie was looking forward to the potato salad we bought yesterday but it turned out to be yellow pepper stuffed with a cream cheese. She was so disappointed. It was labelled as Paprika u Pavlaci Milkop but our Serbian wasn't up to scratch.

I quite liked it but we couldn't eat much of it. The cheese was over seasoned, very peppery and far too much salt. At least we had a delicious Spinach & Cheese Borek to enjoy.

Pondering what to do next we decided to visit the church in the lake, the Church of Our Lady of the Rocks.

Small boats were moored waiting to ferry people across to the small island. It was actually an artifical island created by the sinking of large rocks and even seized ships.

Legend has it that a tradition began in the 15th century. On the 22nd July, the anniversary of sailors finding an icon of the Madonna and Child on a rock out at sea, locals still drop rocks into the bay.  It's a tradition known as Fašinada.

By the time we arrived on the island we almost had the place to ourselves with only one other couple wandering about. We walked around the island from one end to another and back again.

Since the island became large enough there's always been a church. The one that stands there today was built after the previous one was destroyed during an earthquake in 1667.

Palazzo Bujović

Palazzo Bujović

Not a Perast cake