The plan was to take said bus from Žabljak to Podgorica, the capital of Montenegro. From there, at 11am, there would be a bus going to Ulcinj, a small and very touristy village on the coast. Ulcinj was only a few kilometers away from the Albanian border, and I was told there would be buses leaving hourly to Shkodra.
Getting up early is not something you have to do when hitchhiking, although it is advisable depending on the size of the city and its location. If I had been hitchhiking, I probably would've started in Žabljak at around 10, because it pretty much consists of only one road that leads back to the rest of Montenegro. Buuuut I wasn't, so I went into the bathroom at 6:40am, because I was afraid it would be occupied afterwards. Then I went to get something to eat from the supermarket, just to find it closest because it was still some minutes till 7.
Deciding that I didn't actually have the time to wait, I went back, had a banana, got my backpacks ready, and was surprised to have some minutes left. The common room was packed with people, who all wanted to take the same bus, and who all panicked when the co-owner of the hostel, Gina, said she expected the bus to be full.
So everyone hurried to the bus station to get a seat, in case the bus was already there and waiting - well it wasn't. I had been standing with the others for some
minutes when I remembered that I forgot a pair of socks and a pantyhose in the hostel. Everyone was like well, screw it, but in that moment I really didn't want to leave those things behind.
So put my bags down and ran (=jogged) back to the hostel. It wasn't far, but if the bus was to leave on time, I definitely wouldn't make it. I liked the idea: it might be too full anyway, I thought, or I'll just miss it and stay here for another night. I hadn't seen anything but the hostel, the supermarket, and the restaurant on he other side of the street anyway, so it wouldn't be a complete disaster.
I arrived at the hostel, walked up the stairs too far, went back, got into the room, took the stuff, went back down, started jogging again. Half way I saw a bus driving to the station and knew I would make it in time. Hear hear!
It took quite some time for all us backpackers to board; the minibus was already packed with locals, who has probably gotten in a stop before, and we all had to "check-in" our backpacks for an extra Euro. I ended up standing just next to the driver and already saw myself flying through the glass when he started driving up and down the serpentines.
Only after an hour and a half, when we arrived in Nicšić, people got out and everyone found a seat. Then we continued to Podgorica, which took another hour.
That ride was 7€ + 1€ for luggage.
In Podgorica I had to wait for around 45 minutes, and bought the ticket in the meantime: 6€ + 1€ for luggage.
I don't like waiting for buses. It gives you a feeling that no time is passing at all. Hitchhiking is different: even if I have to wait for 45 minutes, it stays exciting, because cars are passing by almost all the time, and every one of them could be mine. I keep smiling at every single car, try to send my destinanion to the drivers' heads telepathically, stay in action. Waiting for a bus, in comparison, is just really dull.
Eventually it arrived, anyway. It seemed like it took forever to get out of Podgorica, and in general everything was just so slow. I checked my map and again was annoyed about the fact that there's no direct connection between Podgorica (the goddamn capital of Montenegro!) and Shkodra, the next big city behind the border. No, they send you to a fisher village instead, where you have to wait for another bus, making a huge detour through streets that are probably much shittier than the ones connecting the two cities.
The longer I was looking at the map, the slower the bus seemed to drive, the more I regretted not hitchhiking at least from Podgorica to Shkodra. But I was trapped now, so I just enjoyed the privilege of being able to read instead of having to talk while driving.
Finally in Ulcinj, at around 1pm, I followed a British couple to their hostel, hoping to exchange my finished book for a new one. Successful, I asked the receptionist when the next bus to Shkodra would leave: 4:30pm. Oh god.
Quite reluctantly I went to see the town, after they had kindly let me store my backpack at the hostel. I was hungry, so I had a burek with beef in it; I only wanted half of it, but the cashier didn't understand, so I ended up with a whole and finished, obviously feeling terrible afterwards.
The place seemed to consist of a really ugly street endlessly leading down to the beach, which was completely overcrowded. Because I had so much time, I climbed up to some kind of fortress, which was filled with trashy restaurans and souvenir shops.
This "beach bar"-sign caught my attention though, so I passed the unfinished building, went down some old stairs, and then got to the announced beach bar, which ended up being really nice.
I also spotted a familiar face: David, who had stayed in the same room in Žabljak when I got sick, was there with some new friends. The Balkans are so small.
After my first coffee in a lot of days I felt better and got adventurous, so I went back another boring yet not so ugly street back to the hostel. From there I carried my unbelievably heavy (for no reason) backpack back to the bus station, bought the ticket (6€), got into the bus, and almost died in there from the lack of oxygen, so I waited standing outside until the driver started the motor.
I really enjoyed the book, but that didn't let the unbelievably low speed go unnoticed. I really don't know what took so long.
Finally at the border, the driver disappeared with all the passports, which we had had to hand in before boarding the bus, and came back after an eternity. Then, on to Shkodra, on a teeny tiny road that would probably be used only for cycling in Germany.
When the bus dropped everyone off in the city center, it was around 6pm. That makes a total of 10 1/2 hours of sitting around, and 21€ of expenses for a distance of (due to stupidity) around 200 km.
And this, my dear friends, is why I don't like travelling by bus!
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