We had booked a boat to take us around the bay and out into the Adriatic, eager to see some local landmarks. Wanting to make the most of the day, we arranged for a taxi to pick us up and take us to the dock in Kotor early in the morning. The afternoons were getting hot, and the bay and sea could get busy and choppy, so an early start was ideal. The boat we had chosen was both new and comfortable, with plenty of shade for Mum, ensuring she stayed comfortable throughout the journey.

Our first point of interest was the old town of Perast, which clung to the right side of the bay and was once a large Venetian shipyard. Our first stop was at Lady of the Rock, the second of the two islets in the bay (the first being St. George Island). This historic tiny island features a centuries-old monastery and cemetery, surrounded by tall, picturesque cypress trees. Unfortunately, the island is completely private, much to my secret relief. Instead, we pulled up alongside the small jetty at Lady of the Rock to explore the old church. The island itself is a man-made project undertaken by two brothers who sunk more than 150 old and confiscated ships filled with rocks to create it. While the church is still in use today, it has become more of a tourist attraction.

From there, we headed to the very top of the bay, about 20 kilometers from where we set off, to visit the fascinating submarine tunnels carved into the base of the mountain. Construction of these tunnels began in the 1950s, but a concerted effort by the Yugoslav navy in the 1970s saw the completion of three tunnels, with this being the largest. The tunnel was strategically used for surprise attacks, where small ships and submarines could stealthily approach the enemy. The tunnel itself spans 100 meters in length, but access beyond about 30 meters is barred by steel doors, as depicted in the picture below.

Exiting the Bay of Kotor, we entered the relatively calm waters of the Adriatic Sea and shortly arrived at Mamula Island. During the Yugoslav wars, this island served as a prison, but to the dismay of many Montenegrins, it has since been transformed into an exclusive and private resort. It is widely felt that Mamula Island should serve as a memorial to the thousands who were tortured and lost their lives there.

Our final stop of the day was at the Blue Cave, where Rach and Mum took the opportunity to swim through its crystal-clear waters. The cave’s unique lighting turns it into a natural aquarium, and while we’ve been fortunate to see a few such caves during our travels, it was Mum’s first experience, and she absolutely loved it.

We exercised and swam early as usual, enjoying the peaceful start to the day. Beforehand, we discovered that there were no cruise ships in on Friday or Saturday at the moment, so we made our way to the blue-line bus stop which would take us into Kotor old town. There are two ways to get into town: you can either take a taxi back towards the airport which then cuts through the mountain via a 3km tunnel, taking about 15 minutes, or as we elected to do, opt for the 40 minute, white-knuckled bus ride along the scenic single-track coastal road. This route winds through little hamlets, offering stunning views across the bay. However, as we found out, the bus ride isn’t for the faint-hearted, as the bus asserts its dominance on the narrow road and takes no prisoners along the way, with everything on the road having to yield. We sat near the back and clung on to whatever we could.

The bus itself was fairly new and comfortably air-conditioned, which was quite welcome given the temperatures in the high 20s. Eventually, the bus slowed down and dropped us at the north entrance of the old city, which is surrounded by a moat and set against the backdrop of a mountain. Crossing the static bridge, we entered through the cobbled entrance and were greeted by wonderful walkways leading into plazas adorned with interesting buildings throughout.

Founded by the Romans in the 10th century and enhanced by the Venetians thereafter, Kotor also boasts a castle high above, cut into the cliff face. It can only be reached by foot via over 1100 steep steps. Mum was keen, but we decided against it, knowing even the locals don’t attempt the climb at this time of year. Instead, we walked around the top of the walls, exploring the higgledy-piggledy streets and taking in the sights of the 12th-century Cathedral of St. Tryphon, which houses a little museum that Mum really enjoyed.

Afterward, we stopped for lunch in one of the many charming restaurants before catching the bus back home.

Rach and I had decided that Montenegro was to be our next destination and invited Mum to join us, so with flights booked and Mum helping to choose where we’d be staying, deciding that she needed a complete new wardrobe, we were all set. With Dad not being much of a traveler, Mum had had her wings clipped, but before she met Dad, she’d traveled extensively by car with family through Europe. So she was super excited to be heading off with us, and after the strain of the last year, she needed a break and it would hopefully be a healthy distraction.

On the last day of May, Friday morning, we boarded the plane heading to Montenegro, and after about a 3-hour flight, we touched down safely in Tivat on what was an overcast and drizzly late morning. After eventually clearing customs (it’s the first time in a long time that I’ve been singled out, but apparently, they’d seen something suspicious through the scanner), we loaded the luggage into the taxi and set off. We stopped en route at an ATM and then to pick up a couple of SIM cards, something we always do when we’re outside of Europe.

We arrived about 40 minutes later at our Airbnb in Donja Lastva, situated on the northeast side of the Bay of Kotor. The apartment we’d chosen wasn’t the largest we’ve stayed in, but the view across the bay and up into the mountains was simply stunning and more than made up for it. After a quick pit stop and with the rain abating, we headed off to explore and pick up some groceries. There’s a really nice quiet walk along the shoreline which takes you down into Port of Montenegro, which is a vibrant playground of the super-rich, but more on that later.

First thoughts on Montenegro are that it looks beautiful. We’re looking forward to exploring more and enjoying this new adventure together.

https://www.airbnb.com/slink/AnrL0ZLw

After getting Dad’s affairs in order and finally receiving the necessary paperwork from the shockingly inept GP practice and the slow-moving wheels of legal bureaucracy, we were finally able to arrange the date for the funeral and all the planning surrounding it. Rachel, who has been as fantastic as ever, pretty much coordinated the funeral with Mum. We had planned to spend the week together at Jon & Jo’s looking after Ossie, but Rach went alone, while I stayed with Mum, agreeing that Mum and I would join Rach at the weekend.

After a week of reminiscing and going through Dad’s things, which was actually nice, Mum and I headed to Braintree, arriving late afternoon on Friday. After Mum and Ossie had made their introductions, they got on famously. The following morning, we decided on the Flitch walk, about a 10km walk along a disused railway track, which is one of Ossie’s favorite walks. The rest of the afternoon was spent chatting in the garden.

Sunday’s marathon walk was around the discovery center, where we were blessed with some great weather as we made our way around before heading off for some retail therapy for Rachel and Mum. Although I did end up with a pair of sneakers for not complaining too much. We left Sunday evening after a great weekend, with Rach staying on until Tuesday. We’ve done a lot of walking since arriving, which has helped us all process our loss while reveling in the fantastic countryside around where Mum lives. It really is beautiful, and when the sun is shining, there are not too many other places I’d rather be.

We set off on a National Trust walk to St Ives, which again was about a 10km round trip. First along leafy paths that wove through old church buildings and stately homes, and then through fields of cows busily munching through all that was green, before arriving in St Ives, a wonderful old market town with the river running through it.

The funeral came around quickly. Mum’s priest had agreed to conduct the ceremony, which was rather uplifting from the initial tune we’d chosen, “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life,” which Dad liked and made everyone smile. I managed to keep it together through the eulogy, and my brother and I kept Mum upright for what was a lovely service. From there, we had arranged the wake at the 3 Jolly Butchers in Houghton, which was good-humored, and the overall consensus of the 30 or so guests was that it had been a wonderful celebration of Dad’s life.

We had a late flight, so we were up early exercising before heading off to the beach. According to my three weather apps, it was going to be a very windy day, and we’d already experienced the Sahara winds earlier in the week, which turned everything a darker shade of orange. After scouting the three beaches, we found a sheltered spot on the western side and went in for what was a surprisingly calm swim, given the ever increasing winds. Meanwhile, on the main beach behind us, people were windsurfing in some very lively-looking seas. The temperature was perfect for nodding off though, which is what we did for a couple of hours, before our little secluded spot became overrun.

We were on a late flight back to Stansted, but it wasn’t too bad. Although we didn’t get to Mum’s until after 2 am, we try to make it a rule not to catch flights that arrive at unsociable hours. However, one of the reasons for taking this flight was that Seb and Ally were having the official opening of their new dental practice. So, the following day, together with Mum, we made the two-and-a-half-hour drive up the A1 to Huddersfield, where the practice is located. The event was due to start at 2 pm, and we were actually on time (my timekeeping is rubbish!). Ally knew that we were coming, but Seb didn’t, so we entered into the “Wonder of Wellness” (their brand).

The practice had been open for a while, but they’d only recently completed the renovation, and the place looked great. We snuck in with the other guests, and Seb hadn’t seen us, so when he came down the staircase into reception, he was shocked and pleased, I think, to see us all and gave Mum the guided tour, which really lifted her spirits. The guys have done a great job with all of the changes they’ve made, both visually and with the folks they have working around them. They both looked so happy, and we left feeling proud of them and what they’d achieved so far. The weather’s been pretty good, so we’ve been keeping Mum busy, walking her around the local area, which I have to say has been a real treat for us all.

The weather’s been great, in the low 20s with some dreamy cobalt skies. As I mentioned before, with the beach setup here, there’s a choice of 3 beaches facing east, west, and N/W. So, we can always find a sheltered spot and calm waters when the wind picks up, and we’ve now acclimatised to the water and the swims are great.

We’d read some interesting blogs about a few places on the west side of the island, so we pointed the car towards Chania and from there headed south towards the White Mountains and the Imbros Gorge. Once off the main highway, we snaked our way through some small villages, showing off the vibrant colours of their spring flora really is quite something. The start of the ascent up into the gorge seemed to be marked by an interesting old ruined church, set by the side of the road. From there, we wound our way up through some very narrow roads, where some goats were stretched out and resting after what I am guessing had been a busy mornings munching. As we slipped from one side of the crevices, to the other not knowing what was around the other side, but with each turn we were treated to a different view.

We reached the small village of Patsianos, with most of its rust-colored stone buildings wonderfully renovated and restored. There were some great-looking places to eat, but it was too early for us. One of the guys we’d met had told us about a small village called Vamos, given over to artisans, with a highly rated lunch venue that was highly rated, so off we went. Cretan food has some slight variants from the traditional Greek fare, but it’s equally delicious all the same.

Our next stop was about 2km east, to the working Agios Georgios monastery, famed in the past for its olive oil production. At one time, over 3600 trees produced 25,000 kilos annually. Olive oil is still produced today, but in smaller quantities, the modern way…still delicious though. The setting itself was incredibly peaceful, with mystical sounds emanating from the Orthodox Church in the center of the courtyard.

Our final stop was Lake Kourna, which is the only freshwater lake in Crete. It swells in the winter and spring as it acts as a basin to the White Mountains, but in the summer, it shrinks, creating temporary sandy beaches and you can stroll around its 3.5km circumference and enjoy the serene surroundings.

It had been a tough week, but with things in hand as we waited for the slow bureaucrats in the UK to process the paperwork, we weren’t needed, so we decided to stay on. We hired a car for a few days and headed off to Heraklion, more specifically Knossos, which ended up being a pleasant hour and a half’s drive on the main highway, hugging the coastline.

We had set off quite late, so when we arrived and knowing that once we started exploring, we’d forget to eat, we found a small organic restaurant close by set underneath flowering olive trees and tucked into some delicious authentic Cretan food. After lunch, we made our way to the Minoan palace. First built in 1900 BC, but then adapted by the Minoans some 500 years later, it holds folklore surrounding its ruler King Minos, the labyrinth for the Minotaur, and for me, the story of how Daedalus and his son Icarus escaped imprisonment from the labyrinth, only for Icarus to fly too close to the sun and fall to his death in what after became the Icarian Sea.

The palace itself is huge and sits on an artificial hill, with commanding views on all sides. The sprawling building layout is very complex. Daedalus’ remit was to design it so that visitors would be trapped there until Minos was ready for them to leave. Sadly for me, it was recreated in the 1970s by an English archaeologist, who used inappropriate building materials (concrete) that I found hard to look past, but it didn’t bother Rach, who really enjoyed it.

After leaving the palace, we set off into Heraklion to see the famed museum, only to discover it closed. So, from there, we decided to spend the rest of the day taking a look around Rethymno, which is halfway between Heraklion & Chania. The weather was beautiful, so we parked up along the seafront and decided to walk the couple of miles into the port and then into the old town.

The Venetian port was much smaller than the one in Chania, but against the backdrop of the sea, it was as impressive. The old town was perhaps more extensive than Chania’s, with different streets seemingly given over to the collective groups of craftsmen to showcase their wares. We got a little lost as we strayed deeper into this labyrinth, fortunately knowing that the sea was to our left. We eventually got back to the seafront and after walking about a half a mile past the car as we chatted, we retraced our steps back to the car and made our way home.

I was awakened in the early hours of Saturday morning by sharp shooting pains. I don’t like to take painkillers, but I raided Rachel’s stash and after taking a couple, waited for them to kick in. Unfortunately, they didn’t, and I spent the rest of the night in the fetal position, moaning and feeling pretty sorry for myself.

Later that morning, I overheard Rachel on the phone and guessed the sad news: my father had passed away. It wasn’t completely unexpected, as Dad had been struggled with his health over the last year. Nevertheless, it’s the type of news that I don’t think anyone can prepare for, and then the guilt began as I remembered all of the times when I could have handled things better with him. Fortunately, my brother had been staying that weekend, to support Mum and was staying on.

My father and I didn’t always see eye to eye, and he was a man who showed little emotion. Perhaps not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know how. It’s something I never understood, even after I had my own children. He was happiest around the creative arts, able to turn his hand to whatever he wanted. A talented draftsman in his early years, then he found music (Jazz), playing the saxophone in bands, including proudly the Royal Airforce band.

He was a great artist, exhibiting at galleries in London and the southeast of England, with his paintings finding homes across the world. He was an accomplished photographer, using only his own reference material for his artwork. Together with a good friend, over nearly a decade, they created the children’s animated series, “Cogs Hollow.” As talented artists, they drew and fabricated all of the characters themselves. They also filmed each episode in stop animation, and Dad even had a hand in writing the music… Incredible!

Ultimately, he was one of life’s continual learners, always pushing for perfection in whatever artistic medium he was working in. For me, it was frustrating to see, and he wasn’t always great to be around. But I was proud of his accomplishments and to call him my father. However, on reflection, I know that I didn’t tell him that often enough. I just spent too much time focusing on the things that he wasn’t so good at.

After two days, things were getting worse, so Rachel decided that we should probably get things checked out. I would normally have resisted, but I felt she was probably right. The hospital in Chania wasn’t the most modern medical establishment I’ve ever been in; in fact, it was a little rundown. But what they lacked in equipment and aesthetics, they more than made up for in competent people who were welcoming and full of assurance. After we’d been there for an hour or so, I threw up, something I haven’t done for a good 20 years. But after that, I started to feel better, and the numerous blood and urine tests had all come back clean, which was a relief. After the doctor had signed me off with some kind of gastroenteritis, we took a cab back to the apartment, where I was sick again. After having a shower, I crawled into bed and got some sleep for the first time in a days and a few days after that, I was on the mend.

We’ve settled into our exercise routine and early morning walks, as we tend to do wherever we stay. While we haven’t braved the early morning swims yet, as the Mediterranean is still pretty cold, we’re waiting until the afternoon. We took the number 21 bus as close as we could to the old town and then meandered through its streets, which eventually opened out into the old Venetian port. The old buildings have been mostly turned into boutique hotels, with restaurants sitting close to the water’s edge. It’s really quite attractive, and there’s a very calming vibe here. We deliberately arrived in Crete before the crowds, and I’m sure it’s completely different then.

The lighthouse, which guards the entry, was originally built by the Venetians, but sadly, all that remains is the base, as it was rebuilt by the Egyptians in the mid-1800s during their occupation. The walls remain, though, and are great to walk along, offering enchanting views out to sea and amazing vistas across the port, the city, and the beautiful snow-capped ridges. It was a beautiful day, so we spent most of our time in and around the port, stopping for a great lazy lunch as we watched people of different nationalities pass by.

After lunch, we took a further stroll through the colorful side streets of the old town and made our way up to the newly commissioned museum. The museum was thoughtfully laid out, with some interesting artifacts recovered from across Chania, including relics dating back to the Minoan period.

After nearly three months in the UK and with my father finally out of the hospital and a new care team in place, I booked two flights to Chania in Crete. Saying farewell is always tough, especially to my mum, with whom we spent the majority of our time during this trip. Fortunately, my good friend Gerry kindly offered to drive us to the airport, which was fortuitous due to a train strike that day.

After a four-hour flight, we arrived in Chania just after 9 pm and headed straight to the car rental to pick up our vehicle, or so we thought. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned, as they didn’t accept the Amex card I had prepaid the booking with, and my other cards seemed to pose a challenge for them as well. The overall experience wasn’t a good one, so after venting my frustration, I was happy to let Amex sort it out.

The taxi finally arrived at our Airbnb in Agii Apostoli, Galatas, located on the northwest side of the island. Crete, not only the largest island in Europe but also the most southern, is separated from North East Africa/Middle East by the Libyan Sea, a fact we’re reminded of a couple of times a day as Euro-Fighters patrol that corridor.

The following morning, we ventured out to get some food after a quick exploration of the local area. The surroundings consist of on excellent walking tracks, popular with the locals undera canopy of trees leading out to three beaches: one long stretch of sand and two smaller coves, each with its own unique characteristics and clear water, perfect for swimming. All three beaches are less than ten minutes walk from where we’re staying, which is ideal. Winding paths through the brush offer interesting walks along the beachheads with stunning views of the sea and the Lefka Ori mountain range.

There are plenty of restaurants to choose from and a couple of supermarkets nearby. Additionally, it’s just a 10-minute drive to the second-largest city, Chania and all its charms.

https://www.airbnb.com/slink/RubDCbOo

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