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Updated: May 18, 2025
There is very little of the Montenegrin element apparent. We only walked through the town once, as our destination was Prstan, the actual seaport of Antivari. We were somewhat rudely disillusioned. After an hour's drive along a flat and ugly road, we espied a collection of some half a dozen houses. Two or three of them are large and modern in appearance but that was all.
It was an Albanian boat, manned by about half a dozen cut-throats, and in spite of warnings we arranged to leave next day. Anything would be preferable to a ride of eight hours over mountain tracks on mules to Dulcigno; and we were all well armed. But the next day brought contrary winds, and we were forced to spend another day in Prstan.
Stephan our servant Virpazar The drive over the Sutormann Pass Antivari and Prstan The beauty of the bay We are delayed by contrary winds We are rowed to Dulcigno We make the acquaintance of Marko Ivanković A story concerning him We shoot together An episode on a lake Vaccination The Turkish inhabitants. As he was our constant companion for several months, it would be well to describe him.
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