I was awake at 5.45am, to watch the sail-in up the Bay of Kotor. It was still dark when I emerged on deck, along with only a handful of others.  Lights were still twinkling in the small villages that cling to the shore.  As dawn broke, more and more people arrived, cameras in hand.  We were in time for our first views of the two tiny islands and the town of Perast, before the ship turned hard right and into the final arm of the fjord. We were sailing under the Montenegran flag today.

Before long we could see Kotor, and I could start to pick out the city walls which climb the steep slopes.  The Fortress of St John was perched way above the water, and I could also see the little church about half way up.  It was going to be quite a walk.

We waited until 9.30 before boarding a tender to shore, then made our way into the old town via the Sea Gate, one of three that gives access into Kotor.  The town is small, but its labyrinthine streets and squares was reminiscent of Venice (without the canals) or Tallinn (without the hills).  Of course the Venetian influence is still heavy here.

We found the southern gate which marks the start of the 1300 stone steps which lead up to the Fortress. It is the most popular thing to do in Kotor and was already busy; most people still heading up, but the early risers were already well on their way down.

Many places in Europe still have walls, but these are quite different from any we’ve seen.  Starting from the waterfront, they are 4 miles in length, and traverse the mountainside.  Narrow steps follow the line of the walls in a series of tight switchbacks. There is also a rough stone path which gives overtaking room.

I had no idea how this was going to affect my head, but I was certainly up for it.  I have to say it was hard going for me, especially in the sections where the wall disappeared; and in most places it was lower than waist high, so didn’t give me the vertical reassurance that my vestibular system wants.  But I took it slowly and steadily.  We paused every so often to take in the views of the fjord, the town, and our ship which dominated the bay.  Enterprising locals had set up small stalls selling soft drinks.

After a little less than an hour we reached the ruins of the fort.  These are on several levels, and there were various steps and terraces offering different vantage points. Peer through a stone window and you could see the mountainside and valley behind us, with a zigzag path leading both up and down.  My head was starting to spin a bit, but it was worth it.

You can get across onto the zigzag path by clambering through a window, onto an unsteady wooden ladder, and down some rough steps. Ian decided to give it a go, while I preferred to stick to the devil I knew, and descend via the steps. We planned to meet up back at the pier.  However, after a short while on the zigzag path, which was very rough and boulder strewn, Ian changed his mind, and caught me up about two thirds of the way down.  He told me afterward that I would never have made it down the ladder, which was not fixed to the wall.

Back on ground level, we spent some time exploring the town, and looking at the walls at sea level.  We never did find the cat museum, but we wandered in and out of each of the town gates, and found a really big park bench for a well earned rest, before our mid afternoon reboarding.

Sailaway was gorgeous, back down the fjord with the afternoon sun. We stayed on the promenade deck for over an hour until the mountains gave way to the sea, and we set our direction for Greece.