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Our editor-in-chief, David Booth, recently shipped his trusty old Suzuki V-Strom 1000 to Europe in search of a new adventure. Here’s the story of just one of those adventures and, more importantly, the other people who made your quest possible.
“It’s not about what you know, it’s about who you know. “It’s a business saying we all recognize, even if we don’t all subscribe to it, and its meaning, of course, is to emphasize the merit of close ties to the current ones and how much more vital they are than “simple” relationships. knowledge and skills. Call it connection, networking, or even mentoring, which you know is a shortcut (or so I’ve been told) to getting rich.
It turns out that making friends in prime locations can be even more vital when traveling to faraway foreign countries. Let’s say, for example, that you’re an unfortunate Canadian motorcyclist who is a long way from home. Maybe it’s on the edge of an old Eastern Bloc country whose customs officials yell at you in a language you’ve never heard before, an immediate spit made up of too many consonants and too few vowels.
The only word you can write sounds like “safe. ” Think. Or is it a ruse: why does it need you to cross the street and enter a building that, frankly, looks more like a gang hideout than any government workplace you’ve ever seen?
In other words, confused. Maybe even, a road warrior you’d like to think about, a little scared. In other words, full of “what am I getting myself into?And “Is it too old to go back?” repentance. Stories of missing tourists dance in your head. From minor clashes, and in buildings much less deteriorated than those that are encouraged to participate, horror stories have been created.
But – and this is where this old saying suddenly becomes so useful – if you’re smart and, more importantly, connected, all you have to do is text your new, more productive friend, Sergey, and, in the blink of an eye, everyone suddenly a) were instructed to go to the back office of the building, where b) be sure that, yes, on the most sensitive of the very rickety stairs and through the old, rusty door is c) a guy sitting in a dimly lit room asking for 10 euros – just in money! – who is actually a valid insurance broker. Or, at least, as valid as what you get in Montenegro, probably the most beautiful of the former Eastern bloc countries mentioned above.
And that’s how you get to the beautiful western tip of the former Yugoslavia with five minutes of smiles and lots of thanks, instead of spending two hours yelling at someone who doesn’t care if you enter their country or not. This time, save and hassle, in case you’re still suffering with the metaphor, it’s a result of who you knew, because in fact he wasn’t what you knew.
As for who Sergei Vikultsev is, well, the first thing we need to know is that he is a Russian expat, missing long before the Ukrainian conflagration, who came to Montenegro 8 years ago to paint in IT at Peter Munk’s Porto Montenegro superyacht hotel and marina. I took a mission and fell in love with the charm of this small country the size of a postage stamp in the Balkan Adriatic.
Gifted with a Slavic drive and an entrepreneurial spirit, he controlled money, moved car parts around the world, and, most importantly for my current interest in people living in low-lying areas, became Montenegro’s resident expert on motorcycle travel. to know, so to speak, if you want to revel in the wonders of this overlooked wonderland.
So, on a bright and incredibly warm morning (30 degrees C at 8:00 and heading for 37 or 38), my V-Strom 1000 joins your Tracer 900 for an adventure in the hills of Montenegro. Today, Montenegro is more productive, known for its majestic sea coastline (Munk was only the newest to “develop” the Tivat-Kotor region for the influx of cruise ships that now dock there daily), but what all those “tourists” do is that the vast majority of their land domain is a mountainous area. a region that would be the pride of the Swiss Alps or the coast of California.
In fact, less than ten miles from town, Monetenegro began to resemble the hills above Santa Barbara, though with far fewer Beemers and Bentleys. Flowing roads run along grassy mountains that feed synthetic lakes. It turns out that Montenegro wants to group its waters together or simply prefers to have high-altitude lakes. Either way, one moment everything becomes arid and the next there’s a huge expanse of water that, once you get past its good looks and gleaming calm, surely there’s no point in its presence. . Because it’s synthetic.
But boy, is Slansko Jezero – literally “salt lake” – charming. Surprisingly quiet, it is populated by small islets, all well wooded and none of them seem to be populated. In fact, the strangest thing about seeing such a beautiful sea coastline is how underexploited it still is. Anywhere else in the world, there would be McMansions galore and powerful speedboats that would disturb the peace. Here, there are only a few farms and a few cows that offer a glimpse of what, in any other country, would be the pinnacle of idyllic retreats. I still don’t know if that’s a smart thing to do or a bad thing.
“But wait,” Vikultsev said, “there’s one getting bigger and bigger. “It turns out that the last 15 or 30 kilometers before reaching Bosnia and Herzegovina are a valley absolutely filled with water from a dam, the Mratinje. This lake is just spectacular. Seemingly endless and even more incongruous than the first, the water is a natural azure blue, and once again, its surface is virtually untouched through the boats.
Cutting bobby pins on its surface while admiring its good looks turned out to be a bit tricky. Photo stops were frequent. This is the first time I wish I had studied Ansel Adams more skillfully. In any case, I’m captivated by his good looks.
The Soviet-era dam, not so much. Not because it wasn’t captivating either, but because it felt like we were suddenly trapped in a time warp. Built in 1975, you know, when Brezhnev, who heavily invaded another neighbor, Afghanistan, was an obscure position. in the Soviet era. Also, in those supposedly non-violent times, for no explainable reason, they would chase us away from anything close to their edge or the parking area, the guard, a former apparatchik, of course, hunted to save us. from taking pictures or even hunting around the side of the parking lot.
The Natural Theatre Assembly. If the encounter with the border “insurance” agent is comical, then the chase from the Mratinje dam is a top-notch art. At first, he would simply beep at us from his industrial foghorn. I guess in the old days, that would have been enough to scare us. We walked away, who were absolutely intimidated. When we didn’t get that message, there was longer bleeding and the beginning of a lot of hand signals.
Our offer of a camera then provoked what, in a language you did not want to understand, was more than enough to make me recoil precipitously. In fact, to an American raised on James Bond videos with nasty Eastern Bloc cronies, it looked like a transparent movie. sign that it was time to leave Dodge’s camp.
Montenegro is known for its majestic coastline, what those “tourists” miss are the mountainous regions that would be the pride of the Swiss Alps or the Californian coast.
That said, the whole episode felt theatrical. Seriously, being evacuated from a former Soviet barricade (either forced and, at the same time, woefully constructed) via a Cyrillic-spitting lackey, a megaphone, and a serious attitudinal challenge is the closest this 66-year-old can get. In fact, the war Fría. De made was so stupid that I asked Vikultsev if he had arranged everything for me. He said no, so perhaps Putin’s “special military operation” has confused the brains of the Russian-Ukrainian border. .
Although the real-life dramas are entertaining, the real highlight of the trip was the crossing of Durmitor Pass. One of the two roads that run through the park of the same name, it’s simply stunning.
At times, the miles-high grassy plateaus are dotted with small farms, lush fields, and displaced ice cream stands. A little later, it’s all rocks and dizzying peaks, with horses bathing hip-deep in refreshing ponds and sheep battling the summer warmth by frolicking in some of the few patches of snow that the summer sun hadn’t yet melted. A disparate landscape slightly messed up by tourists and one of the most beautiful remote landscapes on the planet, Durmitor National Park is definitely worth including on the bucket list. for any motorcyclist.
Frankly, the road passing through Durmitor would hardly be considered as an access road to gîtes in our Laurentides, let alone a main road passing through a national park. In fact, there’s surely no way I or any other American tourist would have believed (even with commands from a generally reliable GPS formula) that a quick right turn through a rudimentary, unpretentious, unlit tunnel was the beginning of a multi-hour spectacle with breathtaking scenery.
Or that such a small, single-lane road could simply start the roughly 30 kilometers (19 miles) that make up the main road leading to what is one of the most impressive parks in the Balkans. If you understand what I mean, I would never have discovered one of the most fun attractions of my entire summer in Europe.
But then I met someone.
If you move to Montenegro: Sergey Vikultsev operates Stoppie. me, which, among other things, rents you a motorbike if you move to Montenegro. Their fleet currently consists of two Yamaha Tracer 900s, a pair of Triumph Tiger 900 24s, a Tiger 850 Sports and the latest British triple model, the Tiger 660.
It will also rent you high-level driving equipment, adding helmets, boots and gloves in case you come to Tivat on a cruise. All clothing comes with CE point 1 or 2 protection, and the helmets even offer the latest ECE 2206 standard. standard. Digital maps are also provided with the rental and can be received with pre-planned routes.
He is also the author of a Mad or Nomad article, “Motorcycle Travel Guide: Montenegro”, which is the most productive motorcycle advisor I have encountered in Montenegro. Vikultsev can be reached at 382 (067) 537-677 or bookings@stoppie. I. Locate; Bacon can also save you.
If you would like to ship your motorcycle to Europe for a long road trip, call Carrie Drazek at (516) 682-9220. That’s right. Really, nothing can be more complicated than that. Just call that number and do everything exactly as Carrie tells you.
That’s because Drazek runs Motorcycle Express, which has roughly 40 years of experience shipping motorcycles around the world. Drazek will book your flight, fill out all the documents (14 pages and more) and direct you to the finisher at the end of the trip; and carrier at your arrival destination.
Literally all you have to do is make sure you have less than 4 liters (one US gallon) in your fuel tank (I just cycled until it’s almost empty), disconnect the battery when you get to the carrier, and make sure the most sensible panniers and/or suitcases are empty. Otherwise, it’s more a matter of getting on and charging it.
One last point, very vital!- detail. The release of your motorcycle also depends on proof that you have insurance valid for Europe. For a vehicle registered abroad, you need the so-called green card, which offers liability insurance almost in the EU. No map, no motorcycle. And you want to have the original document; Impressions may not be enough.
I suppose you could get it from one of the many European suppliers, suppliers in Germany, France or Italy, and wait for the postal service to deliver it to you. Or you can just call Drazek because, as you might have guessed, she’s also authorized to factor green card insurance. For more information, MotorcycleExpress. com.
You need to buy your motorcycle in Europe: Well, this time the user you need to know is Stefan Knopf, director of Knopf Tours based in Heidelberg, Germany. And although Knopf also ships motorcycles (via containers from Florida) and can also factor the green card. Sure, their real goal is to stock expat motorcycles like mine. In fact, thanks to a few on-site barns and a new underground hideout, Knopf has lately sold between 400 and 500 motorcycles with foreign (EU) license plates, with U. S. and Canadian license plates and the various Middle Eastern registrations being the most common.
However, what makes Knopf’s amenities so useful is that, in addition to storing your bike when you get home, there’s a bed and breakfast on-site where you can relax after a long flight to Germany. Knopf will even pick you up at Frankfurt airport; in fact, it’s his son Chris who takes care of that part, the taxi job.
There is a small service domain where you can perform some minor maintenance yourself, such as a tire or oil change. And if your motorcycle requires more serious work, Knopf will take it to a local motorcycle dealership and pick it up. Raise your mount once the task is complete. In other words, Knopf Tours is the ultimate in full-service, one-stop-shop garage facilities. For more information, call 49 (6221) 727-2308 or KnopfTours. com.
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