May was, believe it or not, the first time we’d gone home and left Rush afloat. It was good to get back and find all well – albeit we’d heard from Jerry Hill, an old small boat racing contact from the UK who was cruising on his Catana, moored next to Rush and was impressed enough to research the design and discover she was ours.

 

After a MAJOR red dust clean-up and food shop we set off for an evening rendezvous with Lars and Anna in a beautiful cove on the southern tip off Ithaca, before heading to Argostolli on Kefalonia, where Amanda’s mum, Diane, was due to arrive the next day. 

 

This was a big deal. Amanda’s mum was, fittingly, the first of our family to see Rush and it was a special moment. Turtles swimming around us added to the occasion. The mother-in-law (as I call her) stayed in a hotel overlooking the bay for a week and we had drinks and meals on Rush, went for day-sails, explored Argostolli, hired a car to visit Asos at the north end of the island and drove around what the Greeks claim (and who are we to argue) is the most spectacular coastal road in the Mediterranean. We all loved that week. The MiL bought a straw hat and left it on board “for next time”.

 

Next up for Rush was a lovely passage north to Paxos, anchoring in a bay just north of Gaios at dusk and then on to Corfu, early the next morning. Claire arrived the following day, seizing a last minute opportunity to cram in another week of cruising adventure She’s hooked! 

Our plan was to head to Albania and then Montenegro, to explore some areas we’ve never visited before, win time outside our bleedin’ Schengen zone 90/180 day restriction and re-set Rush’s VAT clock. She’s not EU VAT paid, so we have to leave the EU within 18 months of arrival and start a new period on return.

Clearing out at Corfu was, therefore, an important task – critical to get the documentation right and avoid potentially huge fines later. It involves schlepping back and forth between the Port Police and the Customs offices, but once we’d found the right offices the officials were super-friendly and made it almost fun… in 40° heat. 

Southern Albania is only a couple of miles from Corfu’s east coast – with their mountain silhouettes giving spectacular evening backdrops. We headed to the southern-most port of entry, Sarande and, as it’s recommended to use a clearing agent in Albania, we engaged Jelja.  Jelja was super-efficient which made up for the fact that our arrival in Sarande, a biggish town and holiday resort, felt a rather hostile experience after the shabby chic glamour of Corfu old-town. A strong breeze kicked in just before we arrived, jet-skis and speedboats used us for target practice… and the pirate ships set sail with (terrible) music pumping at full bore. Amanda and Claire headed ashore in Derek, while I defended the ship. 

As soon as the team returned, having cleared in, we cleared off and headed to Butrint at the very southern end of the Albanian coast. You couldn’t get a greater contrast. Butrint is an ancient city ruin dating back to 300BC and situated up a mile up an estuary. We felt our way into the river over the shallow bar and anchored just inside, totally alone – atmospheric and silent. And perfect for skinny dipping – one of cruising’s true pleasures!

 

The next day was characterised by (fortunately uncharacteristic) health issues for both Amanda and me. Amanda felt queezy and dizzy and basically had to sleep it off, all day. Must have felt bad… 

I’d been battling with building tooth ache over the last ten days and needed to tackle it. Google revealed that Albania is, coincidentally, a major dental tourism destination. We called Mrs Fixit, Jelja, for a recommendation, an appointment and a taxi for the 40 minute drive back to Sarande. Claire came along in case I was a basket case afterwards. The dentist diagnosed a root canal job and thought it should be spread over several days… I explained that we were anchored in a bay and, if the wind changed, we’d have to clear off so, in the end, she did it in one hard hit. 

I’m not a fan of massive drilling operations in my face but there was an amusing interlude. Half-way through, the drill stopped, the suction ceased and the lights went out… The electric chair that reclined me didn’t, however, simply stop working when the power cut… It went into pack-up mode and began folding me up from both ends! The dentist’s eyes widened, then she realised she’d trodden on the power switch. That rectified, we shared a grin and she got back to work. Total cost €60. That eased the pain.

Afterwards I staggered out to find Claire ensconced in a smart waterside bar, surrounded by hunky waiters she was teaching to mix Monkey’s Lunch cocktails. I escorted her back to the taxi before the situation deteriorated.

Next morning Amanda and I explored Butrint ruins while Claire had a Teams meeting, pretending to be at work. Later we headed to a lovely cove on the Albanian / Greek border… then the tripper boats turned up….the volume. So we scuttled back to Butrint.

The coast NW of Sarande is indented, rocky and beautiful, so the following day we chose another bay, anchored with lines to the shore and only wasps for company. One of them, however, decided to sting me during the shore-lines manoeuvre and, for the first time, caused a bit of a reaction. Intense itching in unmentionable places and then my vision started going darker… and darker…

After recovering from that, a three-ship pirate armada hove into view, heading for our cove. We couldn’t imagine how loud the music must have been on board when, even 50 metres away, we couldn’t think straight. 

 

All too soon, Claire’s time ran out so we dropped her back to Sarande for a dodgy hydrofoil ferry back to Corfu, with just enough time to lounge by the yacht club pool, acquire a Greek adonis shipping magnate’s phone number and fly home. Well, that was the plan…

Amanda and I headed north, with a combination of light wind fetching and motoring, calling in briefly at Himara (a nicer Albanian resort town) and Durres, where we cleared out of Albania. Our friendly agent, Ilir, bought us a feisty, gritty coffee in a worker’s caff in the port and told us how life is changing there. Apparently a Russian (?) group has bought swathes of the large port and is set on literally moving the busy shipping docks a few miles up the coast and building an upmarket marina resort in its place.

 

Albania seemed a real mixture. Some incredible scenery – we only saw the coastline but imagine it must be quite dramatic inland. The people we dealt with were friendly and efficient but there was, perhaps, an edge to some others around us. With the exception of Butrint, it wasn’t conducive to relaxed sailboat cruising – not in the places we anchored, anyway… That said, it was interesting to experience a different ambiance – another yacht being a notable event, in contrast to the 200+ boats anchored in the bay off Corfu town.

Immediately after clearing out of Durres we set off on a fiftyish mile passage to Bar, Montengro. The wind was again generally under 7 knots but with the Code 55 we were able to sail most of it. A Fountain Pajot cat gradually overhauled us some distance off and arrived in Bar an hour ahead, having motored all the way. We tied up next to them on the customs quay and the German owner took our lines, scanned Rush and said “now I understand how you could sail”.

Bar felt like returning to sailing civilisation. Clearing in was a DIY job, albeit with the best hidden harbour master’s office encountered so far. Even the staff in the adjacent café had no idea it existed!

Unheard of for us, we stayed two nights in Bar marina – cleaning and washing, restocking fridges, eating ashore and enjoying the place – before sailing along Montenegro’s short and equally dramatic coastline to picture-postcard Sveti Stefan. Having anchored close to the shore, with a great view, we were affronted when a large motor yacht inserted itself between us and Sveti Stephan –  much too close for comfort AND blocking our view. Rather than initiate a fruitless “discussion”, we sailed on to anchor in Lustica Bay. 

 

We took Derek into the marina and wandered around in fascination. It was like a deserted movie set – new, pristine, glam and soulless. Again, new money laundering investment all over it. We headed out and anchored Derek inshore while we swam round a beautiful cove… until a huge black cloud appeared over the mountains. Amanda’s sprint swimming is more effective than mine but fortunately I was closer to Derek. We just made it back to Rush and lifted Derek before things turned seriously wet and wild. Full marks to our Rocna anchor.

Our Lustica Bay Marina impression was cemented the following morning. A 90’ Sunseeker anchored across the Bay and a smart, uniformed, marina RIB picked up a boatload of people to take them into the harbour. At this point, we spotted the Sunseeker was dragging its anchor – towards the rocks. I called to warn the people in the RIB as it headed past, but the driver ignored me. I gesticulated more urgently and he slowed down. His response, when I pointed out what was happening “You’re not a marina customer, you’ll have to talk to the captain”. Then he sped off…

Our short motor, into 25 knots of wind through the narrow entrance to the Bay of Kotor, felt punchy but, as the Bay opened up, the wind dropped to nothing and we entered another world. The closest comparison we could make, was that it felt like taking Rush into an Italian Lake. Como-esq. Mountains rising out of the water – lush greenery – small settlements with white painted houses and red roofs. Stunning.

 

Just beating dusk, we anchored off Sveti Marko island, next to a Discovery 55 whose husband and wife crew came over for coffee the following morning and we joined them for supper in their favourite restaurant that evening. Turned out they live a few miles from us and frequently cycle past our gate on the way to “our” beach.

It was a poignant day. Back home our amazing friends and neighbours, Amanda and Guy, hosted a garden party at short notice, to celebrate their impromptu wedding a few days earlier, with the local gang. It was an emotional occasion. We were living the dream in a beautiful place… but so wished we were home with them. But we chatted to them that evening and watched a video of Guy’s brave and beautiful speech. 

The next day we motored through the Bay of Kotor in more searing 40° heat, to anchor off the old walled city of Kotor. The city is very beautiful but extremely tourist-spot, cruise ship destination, crowded. We (Amanda) were keen to climb to the fort high on the mountain above Kotor, so decided this was a job for early the following morning. Walking through the city at 7am gave an entirely different perspective. Calm and evocative. Then came the climb… 1350 steps and rocky track to a height of 1300m and incredible views. We descended to a still waking city and well-earned breakfast at a tiny, almost hidden café opened a couple of days earlier by a beautiful and excited daughter, beneath her family’s home. Her dad told us all about it. 

 

After one or two more chilled (sweltering) days anchored in various parts of the bay we berthed Rush in Porto Montenegro, which is everything you might expect – glam superyachts, bling shops, smart, efficient staff, cool people working hard to look even cooler and, actually, also lots of interesting yachts around our size too. We were backed onto the inner wall – perfect for people watching. Apparently I was over-keen.

 

We’d arranged to leave Rush in Porto Montenegro for three days, while we flew to London for the Celebration of Life for our dear, dear friend Stephan, who passed away unexpectedly in May. Another highly poignant part of this unfolding year and time of life. 

This post is already long, so I’ll use this short break in our cruise as a natural blog break too!