The weather had turned by the morning, a blustery wind blowing and a new freshness in the air. I feel blessed to have only had a few rainy days  thus far on this section of the trip, but the outlook from here on is rain with no end in sight. Mentally, that’s quite hard to deal with.

I walked up to the cobbled streets of Ulcinj’s old town and had a look around some Roman ruins. Looking out to sea, I was excited at the prospect of some life in the water – some wild, challenging conditions, some screaming downwind. Save the odd day, I haven’t had any of that in a long time – around Italy and up from Greece the sea has been flat most days. That’s hard work and makes paddling dull. Around France I had amazing conditions, including loads of downwind runs where I barely had to paddle, and that made getting from A to B a real joy.

A lady was sweeping up rubbish from the night before and I noticed how clean the streets were compared to towns in Albania.

The wind was blowing offshore so I hid in the lee of the cliff, battling against a fierce gusty wind across the bays, knowing if I screwed up I’d get swept straight out to sea. The wind really whips here, you can see it coming across the water, dark patches of beaten water, plumes of mist swirling in the air.

I reached Bar, Montenegro’s main port town, and stopped on the beach for a look at King Nikola’s Palace, which was the palace for Montenegro’s royal family for 50 years, and the Church of St. Jovan Vladimir, a huge orthodox church with a gold roof. The sun came out bringing the colours of the mountains to life and everything felt better.

There wasn’t much else to see so I carried on until the wind became so violent I decided it was time to shelter in a little bay.