A happy tale for the holidays...
From my hostel I had a great view of the mountains that sat right behind the old town in Kotor, Montenegro. One of them had a path that cut back and forth all the way up to the top - so, one day, I decided to go for a walk.
I made my way out of the old town, across a small stream and began the hike. I hadn't made it more than 20 minutes up the mountain when I ran into a group of... mountain goats. They had set up shop right in the middle of the path and I wasn't sure if casually strolling passed them would be such a good idea. So, I stood there, starring at them, hoping to come up with a solution. As I was planning my next move, I noticed someone further up the mountain watching me struggle. I decided to go around the goats. This meant scaling up some loose rocks which was easier said than done. After several futile attempts, I ended up back where I started. Again, there I stood, starring at the goats. I glanced up to see where the man was. He was looking at me, holding his arms up as if to say "don't pass, just wait a few moments". I took his advice and sat down. Ten minutes later, the goats finished their lunch and began to make there way off the path. I looked back up at the man, hoping for the thumbs up. He waved at me to continue so I jumped to meet feet and started moving. A few minutes later we met. Using his hands, he told me that they were his goats and if I had tried to pass them, they would of rammed me in the guts. I shook his hand, thanked him for the gut-saving advice and continued on my way.
As I neared the top, I came across an old stone house. A dog started barking at me and a middle-aged man came out of the house to give me the once over. I said hello and pointed at the path, looking for permission to continue. He said nothing but gave me a small nod so I passed the dog and kept going. A few seconds later I stopped. I kind of felt like I was trespassing, so I decided to turn around. The dog started barking again and I'm sure the guy was wondering what I was up to.
As I was on my way back down, I could see an older woman and a young girl making their way up the path. As we neared, I said hello and waved. They stopped and I introduced myself. The woman spoke no English and the young girl, who was only seven years old, knew only a few basic words. I pointed to the house at the top of the path and asked them if they lived there; the little girl nodded. From what I could piece together, the little girl went to school in town and they would make this trek everyday. "You walk all that way twice a day?!" - they just smiled having not understood a single word I said.
The older woman began gesturing like she was pouring tea while pointing up towards the house. I wasn't sure exactly what she was trying to say but I had a feeling she was inviting me up for something to drink. For some reason, I didn't go. I tell myself it's because I wasn't clear what she was offering, if anything, and I didn't want to look like a fool. I gave them a smile, said goodbye and continued down the path. I kept stopping to look back up as the older women, slowly but surely, made the long walk up with her granddaughter, who was bouncing along behind her. I just couldn't get over what a commute it was.
The next day I decided it would be nice to bring the little girl a gift. I had a few tins of mints, from the Roots Canada store, that I carried with me for just such an occasion. Who better to give the first tin to than this little girl? I grabbed one and headed up the mountain. As I neared the house, I saw the goat man from the previous day. He recognized me and we both waved. I showed him the mints and tried to explain that they were a gift for the little girl. He smiled and gestured for me to follow him. The little girl came out of the house and I handed her the mints - she smiled from ear-to-ear. I explained to her that they were from Canada, far far away - she just kept smiling. Her older sister came out to join us, along with the goat man, who had gone inside and returned with a couple of small glasses and a clear bottle containing, what I assumed to be, some sort of vodka. He filled our glasses and we clinked. I put mine back in one shot and he nearly fell of his chair laughing. He motioned at me not to drink it so fast and instead, to sip it and enjoy. He quickly poured me another. His wife, the older woman from the previous day, came out with a plate of cheese. Could it get any better?!
As we ate and drank, I tried to explain where I was from and what I was doing. They tried to ask me questions. We may not have spoke the same language but we did our best to make it work. Everyone was smiling and having a good laugh; it was a glorious afternoon!
After a few more drinks, I thanked them for their hospitality and we said our goodbyes. I made my way back down the mountain, albeit a little wobbly, and back to my hostel. It is days like this that are the reason I travel.
*This happened during my visit in 2010.
