Perast

Perast, blues & breeze. I woke up intending on taking a cab or a bus to this little town, which is more of a strip of harbor than a town proper. I was afraid to lose my parking spot and a bit nervous of returning to those windy, mountain Montenegrin roads. But then I saw my server from the restaurant the night before in town, and he convinced me to drive. I’m so glad I listened.

Driving, between the mountains and the sea, along the edge of the bay in a completely foreign place, sea breeze in my hair and a language on the radio that I couldn’t understand; it was one of those experiences when you remember that you’re alive. 

And then I was alone in the town, so quiet, vivid, and bright. 

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