May 18, 2025 – Exploring Budva
Today had one priority: give back the scooters. What had seemed like a fun idea turned into a tense game of dodging buses, trucks, cars and other more, quite frankly, experienced and annoyed by our own inexperience, scooter drivers, on narrow coastal roads. We found a small rental agency a few blocks inland, paid our fifty euros per day for the next few days, and immediately felt the stress lift with the hum of a real car’s engine.
With wheels sorted, we finally headed into Old Town Budva. It’s compact and feels solid, like a fortress should. The main archway funnels you right into a maze of stone. We didn’t have a map, which was the point. We passed shops selling olive wood trinkets and restaurants with menus in five languages, but you could still see, and feel, the bones of the place; the uneven Roman-era stones underfoot, the heavy Venetian arches above.
The climb to the Citadela is short but steep. The view from the top isn’t just beautiful; it’s strategic. You see exactly how this little peninsula controlled the bay. Down in the square, the Church of Saint John looks sturdy and plain. The real draw is inside, a Byzantine icon called the Gospa, which has a calm, powerful presence that feels entirely separate from the souvenir hustle outside.
We ended up at Casper Bar more by accident than plan, drawn down an alley by the sound of jazz. It’s tucked away in a courtyard, all shaded greenery and mismatched chairs. We got a table, ordered two local Nikšićko beers, and just watched the afternoon pass. It felt like the town’s living room.
Dinner was fine. We ate at Piano Mobile on a terrace. The pasta was decent, the wine was cold, but it was more about the spot—watching the evening light warm the stone walls.
The real success was back at the apartment. We’d chosen it for the deck, and it delivered. We opened a bottle of local Vranac, a red that tastes like dark cherries and earth. From up there, the Old Town was a silent puzzle of rooftops and church towers, with the Adriatic a wide, dark blue sheet beyond it.
It was the right vantage point to understand the place. Budva isn’t one thing. It’s the preserved history, the perfect corner bar you stumble into, and the quiet moment above it all with a glass of good wine, just watching the day end. With a car in the parking stall, tomorrow was set to be a day of exploring beyond the town.
