This morning we woke up early, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Today was our last day on the Bay of Kotor but instead of rushing out to see and do everything we hadn't done yet, we relaxed and enjoyed a slow lazy start.

Shortly after 9am we decided to have breakfast out. We walked to Armonia and sat outside right on the waterfront. It was an idyllic setting and the perfect start to the day.

I ordered an omelette provencal which was incredibly tasty. Julie wanted a bacon butty and ordered the nearest thing on the menu, and asked them to omit the egg. They were more than happy to oblige Julie's off-menu request.

When it arrived both our mouths dropped. It was enormous, like a triple-layered club sandwich made with very rustic French toast or a sort of bread pancake. It was far too large and there were two pieces. She struggled to finish one of them!

After breakfast we got ourselves ready to visit Kotor. Not wanting to drive, or more to the point, park in Kotor, we decided to catch the bus. We knew a Blue Line bus came through the town regularly so we waited at the bus stop, which was opposite the Church of St. Nicholas.

Some idiot had parked inside the bus shelter! It reminded us of when Julie parked inside a shopping trolley park! We checked the timetable and had just missed the 10:30am. The next one was due at 11:15am.

Whilst we waited we had a closer look at the bronze busts outside the church. They commemorated three of Perast's finest.

The artist Tripo Kokolja, whose frescoes we saw yesterday in the Church of Our Lady of the Rock.

Matija  Zmajević who left Perast after the murder of Vicko Bujović, then became Admiral of the Russian Baltic fleet under Tsar Peter the Great.

Last and probably least was Marko Martinović, a renowned sailor and shipbuilder who opened a maritime training college in Perast, amonst whose students were 17 Russian noblemen studying to become naval officers.

They were all contemporaries at the turn of the 18th century, Perast's golden period.

The bus arrrived on time. It cost us €2 each to get on board. It was reasonably empty when we got on, but as we collected more passengers along the way, it ended up with all the seats taken and about a dozen people standing.

Kotor, nestled in the far South Eastern side of the bay, was only 10 miles away but it took us half an hour to reach. Eager to get off we probably did so a stop too early, opposite a supermarket in the nearby town of Dobrota.

Thankfully it was only a couple of minutes walk and we reached Kotor's city walls, where a cruise ship had literally docked right up to the city. The Oceania cruise ship MS Riviera was enormous, carrying 1250 passengers, like a floating tower block, dwarfing everything around it.

"That's disgusting" we both said.

 The thought of being on a cruise ship doesn't appeal to us, not yet anyway. Perhaps in our old age when we're too tired to travel it would at least be a way to continue seeing the world, but until then we'll reserve the right to think it's awful.

We crossed the Scurda, a turquoise stretch of water looking more like a wide moat, entering the Stari Grad (old town) through the North Gate, sometimes referred to as the River Gate.

The narrow alleys of the Venetian city were a joy to explore. Around every corner there was a sight that hadn't changed much for centuries.

With over a thousand people swamping the small medieval citadel sneaking in through the back door had its advantages. The area around here was certainly devoid of crowds. 

Kotor was a real gem. The influence of the Republic of Venice was evident with every step we took. It often draws comparisons with Dubrovnik, which we were fortunate to visit six years ago.

Our first impression was that Kotor had more than enough heritage to rival the more illustrious Dalmatian city state. The alleys continued to deliver interest.

Eventually we reached Trg od Oružja or Arms Square, a surprisingly pretty piazza. The entire floor was tiled with alternating colours, like a chess board, only with dark terracotta and an off-white.

At one end was Crkva Svetog Nikole the Church of  St. Nicholas, a Serbian Orthodox church built at the turn of the 20th century.

The square was fairly quiet. I could only assume that most of the thousand visitors were having lunch somewhere.

We took advantage of the lack of hordes and popped inside the Church of St. Nicholas. It was richly decorated with frescoes that were only painted in 1996, soon after the Balkan Wars.

The altar had beautiful silver icons of Jesus on one side and The Virgin Mary & baby Jesus on the other. I'm not too sure who was depicted in the images on the central boards but they were very remiscent of a painting of Mozart which was not surprising because when the church was built Kotor was part of the Austrian-Hungarian empire.

Afterwards we returned the way we came to find the start of the path up to the fort that overlooked the city, a must-do for any discerning visitor to Kotor. We soon found the sign post "Entrance to the Fortress" that brought us to a steep cobbled street. To make it easier to climb they had constructed steps to the side, instead of a pavement.

However they alternated sides which Julie didn't appreciate. The smooth stones looked worn to the point of slippery so Julie was walking with extra precaution.

We paid €3 each for the privilege to hike up the ancient path. Apart from the weeds it was well maintained so we didn't begrudge the entrance fee. The path zig-zagged up rapidly.

Julie kept to the steps that ran alongside the path, whilst I walked beside her on the cobbles. It was challenging in the heat of the midday sun and we immediately broke into a sweat.

After 15 minutes of hard slog we were rewarded with a great view over the city and all the way down the bay. We passed two couples who were already thinking about turning back at this point.

Julie was also struggling, so we stopped regularly to take photos and catch our breaths.  Eventually she broke down and couldn't go any further.

"You go on alone. I'll follow behind at my own pace" she suggested.

So I marched on ahead, reaching the Church of Our Lady of Remedy. The view from here was absolutely breathtaking. I took a few photos whilst waiting for Julie to catch up. 

The entire city was sprawled out below. It was all red roof tiles with the exception of the blue domes of the Church of St. Nicholas to the North and the twin bell towers of St. Tryphon's Cathedral to the South.

Several minutes passed an Julie still hadn't arrived so I decided to walk back to meet her. I found her a quivering wreck sheltering in the shade on one of the bends. She had been through a traumatic experience whilst walking up the steps on her own.

The wall to her left had gone, so nothing stood between her and the drop. Gripped with fear her knees gave way. For a while she couldn't move, before managing to crawl to the safety of where I found her.

I explained that there was a church a short distance away where she could sit and regain her composure.

We began to move on but her knees gave way again. Determined not to give up but unable to stand she crawl on our fours. People passing us must have though she was on a pilgrimage, prostrating herself towards the church.

After a while she found her courage and found some strength in her legs to walk the last few minutes to the sanctuary of the church, where we sat outside on the steps in the shade.

I returned to the edge to have another look at the old walled-city below, zooming in on the cathedral. I made a mental note of the its location so we could find it later. It seemed straightforward enough.

I also zoomed in on the town of Prčanj, right on the edge of the water, just at the point the bay turns a corner. It looked idyllic.

After a while I was ready to move on. Someone who appeared to be a caretaker, but also was selling souvenirs told us that we were only halfway to the fort. Julie was more than happy to stay where she was.

I set off on my own again, this time knowing that Julie was safe, in the shade, and not alone.

I marched as quickly as I could, not even stopping to "take a photo", pushing myself through the barrier. Although after the fourth bend I was so out of breath I had to slow my pace down.

I had my head down most of the time concentrating on the ground but when I looked up I could see the fortified walls of Sveti Ivan's fort. They were amazing, like a smaller version of the Great Wall of China.

When I reached the entrance to the fort I turned around and couldn't believe how high I had climbed in such a short amount of time. It stood at 280m above sea level.

There's been a fort here since the Illyrian time, around 1st century BC. The Romans, who then became the Byzantines expanded the fort and then the Venetian renovated it to what stands today, with perhaps a few Austrian additions.

St. Ivan fort wasn't anything special. Much it was badly damaged, shaken by a 6.9 magnitude earthquake that affected the entire Adriatic region in 1979.

Although I have to explain that coming from Wales, where we have the best castles in the world, then all others pale in comparisson, regardless how impressive they are.

It didn't matter. I didn't hike all the way up the mountain to look at ruined buildings. It was all about the spectacular view, and what a view.

It was quite literally breathtaking.

On the way back down gravity must have pulled me down as I made it back to the church in 10 minutes, half the time it took me to get up.

Still, despite my quick march, I felt I had more time to appreciate my surroundings.

At the church I joined Julie in the shade. I needed a moment.

After a few minutes of watching people come and go, marvelling at how calm and not sweaty they looked, we began the return leg back down.

We stopped at the first bar we came across. It was called Old Town. We sat outside on high stools, which Julie didn't appreciate. I knocked back a cold pint of lager and Julie a large glass of Coke Zero. It felt so good.

They didn't take card payments, insisting on cash, so I paid the €6.50 with one of the €100 notes. They weren't best pleased, but they only had themselves to blame.

It was time to eat, so we went in search of a restaurant. We had done some reaseach and Konoba Restoran Giardino came highly rated. We found it on the corner of Trg Bokeljske mornarice, a small square, the opposite side to the Maritime Museum.

The square was full and busy with people eating at a reastaurant that had staked a claim to a third of it.

Giardino was only a small place, one of those family run restaurants, with tables filling the side street. The staff were most welcoming.

We sat outside in the shade. I ordered a margerita pizza and a shopska salad, whilst Julie went for their slow-roasted lamb with "potatoes cooked with the meat".

"Good choice" said the waitress.

When it arrived Julie just stared at it, not really knowing where to begin. It looked like the poor lamb had been hacked to pieces, a pile of gnarly bones, grizzle and sinew.

She wasn't looking forward to it, on the other hand she was excited about tucking into the potatoes cooked in the stock. As it turned out there was more meat on the bone than he thought, so it wasn't a disaster.

Unfortunately mine was disappointing. A marguerita is the simplest pizza, but there's no place to hide when you get it wrong. All you have is the base, the sauce and the mozzarella.

 It just reminded me of those kids pizzas in a supermarket, a pack of 5 marguerita pizzas for £3.50. The base was dry, like cardboard, the tomato sauce was sweet like ketchup, and the cheese was sharp, grated and cheddar-like. The Venetians obviously didn't invent pizza. I probably should have gone for a risotto.

At least the shopska salad was fresh and tasty.

After lunch we walked around the narrow streets. The idea of visiting the cathedral completely left of minds. Instead we ended up in Trg od Oruzja, the Square of Arms. There was a three-storey tall clocktower on a corner. Built in 1602 and still stnding.  

It had a small obelisk in front of it, known as a pillory, a post where guilty offenders would be tied up for physical punishment and public humilation. It's often called the pillar of shame.

The square was the largest piazza in Kotor but also, by far, the busiest of the open spaces in the old town. Perhaps because it was the nearest the ship and people were gathering, waiting to meet up with friends before leaving through the West gate, or Sea Gate.

We left through the Sea Gate and began walking South towards the marina. On the fortified walls we saw a fine example of the Lion of St. Mark, the winged-lion that came to represent the Venetian republic. This plaque was once above the Sea Gate but it was moved during the Yugoslavian era. 

A little further down, we came across Gradska pijaca an old marketplace. We love a good food market but it was a bit late in the day and most traders had gone home. Apparently the best day of the week to visit the market was on a Saturday, which was tomorrow but unfortunately we were leaving Boka Kotorská for our next destination.

We followed the road, reaching the end of the city walls at the Gurdić Bastion, where the South Gate, aka the Gurdić Gate, was also located. There was a moat at this spot, where the water filled it directly from the bay.

We continued along the marina towards the end to find Restaurant Galion, more out of curiosity but we were also hoping to have a drink. It's was all glass and steel, right on the water, very modern and trendy.

They politely but firmly wouldn't allow us to have a drink without ordering a meal.  After our rather rustic lunch we wished we had eaten here. The menu sounded great although it was very expensive.

As we turned back we could see the Church of Our Lady of Remedy perched high on the side of the mountain. No wonder we struggled physically, it was quite a climb.

Then above it we could see the impressive walls of San Giovanni's Fort. No wonder I was out of breath.

With Google maps in hand we walked to the Autobuska Stanica, the main bus station. We asked around. The staff were abrupt, rude even, and told us that the Blue Line bus didn't stop here.

So we made our way back towards the old town looking for a bus stop on the side of the road.

Along the way, at the entrnace to a supermarket car park where we had popped in for supplies, we noticed this enormous moth. It must have had a wingspan of over 10cm.

The car park attendant came out of his hut and said "Elephant!"

"Elephant moth?" I asked puzzled, wondering if he was telling me its moth name. I don't know why he found it funny but he fell about laughing at my question.

It was actually a Giant Peacock moth, (also known as a Great Emperor moth), the largest in Europe and a very impressive beast.

We continued walking, past the Sea Gate, past the MS Riviera, stopping at a small ice cream booth to enquire about the nearest bus stop. She kindly pointed in the direction of Dobrota, to the spot where we got off this morning.

Traffic heading back towards Perast would be on the right hand side of the road but there wasn't a bus stop anywhere to be seen.  Getting a little desperate now, we stood at the side of the road ready to flag down a bus.

Julie noticed  small crowd a little further down the road. "They look like they're waiting for a bus" she said.

We walked up to them and asked the lady at the end. To our relief they were actually waiting for a bus to Perast. Literally moments later a bus turned up. It wasn't a Blue Line bus but it didn't matter.

It felt so good to see the familiar belltower of Perast as the bus pulled over in a layby off the main E80 road. It was a great viewpoint, just above the Monastery of Saint Anthony of Padua, looking across towards the belltower and the two islands.

A narrow path lead us down between the houses, towards the base of the belltower, by the old Church of St. Nicholas. 

It was now gone 5pm and it had been a big day out. It strangely felt like coming home.

As we walked past Armonia we stopped for a drink, sitting outside on the waterfront.

We sipped our chardonnays listening to the waves gently rock the boats and watch a small boy called Luca, no older than six, smartly dressed and wearing a name badge like all the other staff, help to lay the tables for dinner service.

An hour passed in a flash. We felt so relaxed.

We still had our shopping bags with us so after our moment in Armonia we returned to our apartment. Waiting for us, hanging around the yard, was a skinny tabby cat. It was an affectionate little thing, rubbing itself on our legs, weaving in and out between them.

We didn't spend long in our room, just long enough to keep our shopping. 

We rushed back out to the waterfront, where we walked down the promenade, past a basketball court, to another restaurant bar called Disdin. They had comfy outdoor seats, in a more relaxed setting. There was no obligation to eat, so we shared a bottle of wine, but also ordered a bowl of fries.

I was sat facing East towards Kotor and Lovcren, bathed in the golden light of the sunset. It was such an idyllic setting.  We didn't want the evening to end.

A cruise liner sailed past, tooting its horn as it left the bay through the Verige strait. The church bells rang out in reply. Branko told us that this has become a Perast tradition.

Not wanting to spend a penny more on wine we quickly popped back to our apartment to get a bottle of supermarket plonk from our fridge and two glasses, returning to the pier directly opposite.

We sat facing the sunset as it disappeared behind the mountains to the West. The setting was so perfect, “idyllic” didn't begin to capture the moment.

Once we emptied the bottle we just sat there gazing into the distance until night came. When it was dark we returned to our apartment.

It was time to eat. We had jacket potatoes. I also made a tomato and beetroot salad. We had so much of it there was plenty left over. Fortunately we had bought plenty of tubs for such an occassion.

I also made this very unique bread porridge called Popara, a traditional peasant meal. The recipe I found had stale bread, kačamak (a sour cream) and Sjenički sir, a soft salty cheese. I hadn't seen it on any menu but I really enjoyed it!

As soon as we washed the dishes it was light's out. It was another early night. Tomorrow was going to be a long day driving.