Radonovici -- our vacation base

A pampered cow sunbathes in the yard behind our guest house



We stayed in a cheery guest house, still a bit under construction, owned by a friend of Misha's. It was cheap (15 euros a night) but only a short drive to the beach and the workers and their families living there meant there was a lot of noise and little kids around.


The owner suffers from Parkinson's which makes movement difficult but he manages to get a lot done nonetheless. He lost his house in Bosnia during the war, lived for years in Germany and has built a house with a pool now in an area of Montenegro where water supply is in question. He sank a well. We know all of this because of talks (bad description for the translated, pidgin English/Serbian/German and pantomime we used) over evening lorzo.


Oh my god, this was the most potent, throat and stomach burning liquor I've ever had, hand made by a neighbor from his own grapes, with no sugar added. It was served in tiny, chilled silver goblets. Doug came down one morning to boil water for coffee and was offered a slug. He had a great day that day and didn't die.

At the end of our long weekend, we each went up to the owner in his chair on the porch to shake his hand and say thank you and how much we liked the house. He sat there enduring these pleasantries and then said something I didn't understand. Jane got it though.







"Who's giving me the money?" he wanted to know. Ha. Ya know, business is business.