The quaint Montenegrin fishing village with surprising East Asian charm
The birds had stopped talking, the beer had begun to pour and the fishermen were daydreaming of their beds. I tried to distinguish the land from the floating flora of the lake but couldn’t. The serpent haze lifted, slicing the landscape into two: mountain high and river low. This slow village has that feel of secluded harmony with nature that east Asian fishing villages often have – except this is not Asia. It is the small village of Karuč in Montenegro, on the edge of Lake Scutari, Europe’s largest freshwater lake.
Karuč has a palpable essence of temporality, its villagers fisherman, only at home when the bleak fish are too. The tower of St Peter of Montenegro sits under the viewpoint of a bay, a short hike via road, where the young country’s flag sticks out of the ruins waving gently. Chosen as the winter residence for its seclusion and temperate climate, the fisherman set up trade after the tower was built in 1808. Its stone body is dishevelled, no bigger than a bothy, but looking out at the melting vision of Lake Scutari, it’s no wonder that this spot inspired Karuč into existence.
Back down at the bay, an ensemble of villagers were cutting wood and transporting it to the jetties. They waved me over, offering a quick sail to a nearby restaurant. Carp is a delicacy in Montenegro – soaked in oil with garlic and dill for a few hours before being fried, giving it a crisp crackle – and I paired my meal with Nikšićko, a national beer made with mountain water which tastes like a classic pilsner with a salty undertone. An odd sensation after a morning swim in a saltless lake.
“Do you want to go to the Amazon?” beckoned the taxi-boat skipper. Lake Scutari has more than 200 species of bird and is officially listed as an important bird area. Like emigrating birds, the lake escapes nationality by crossing a border with Albania, sharing fishing rights much like an international waterbody. Karuč is on the northern side, a few hours from neighbouring villages. To get to them, you must cross “the jungle on water” to enter the wriggling river known as Rijeka Crnojevića, named after the old capital and the royals who inhabited it.
“Take me to the Amazon,” I proclaimed – and on we went, cutting through blankets of buttery lilies in our shallow boat; a traditional čun (pronounced chune), shaped like a sword, ideal for skimming reeds and shallow translucent waters. Before us was a wide blue jaw of liquid without a horizon, bordered entirely by land. Triangular mounds of forest-decorated mountains faded into the distance, into deeper shades of steely blue, layered like cake. As we glided along, pygmy cormorants began to glide with us – and for a moment, as surface reflected sky, it gave the impression we were flying too.
You don’t come to Karuč to see artefacts or wander for souvenirs, but to float in stillness and seclusion – a true break from the hubbub of the wider world; to jump into teal waters under teal skies; to sample fresh fish and sit, wet-haired, looking out over a natural landscape undisturbed.
Montenegro prides itself on having a laidback attitude, and nowhere is it easier to surrender to it than here. Make for Karuč, find a good view, good food and plenty of time, and the real world can start to feel an awfully long way away.
Essentials
EasyJet flies from Manchester and London to Tivat from £80 return. Various guesthouses and homestays are available from around £20 per night.
Alternatively, Apartmani Karučki krš (00 382 69 844 123) has doubles from £48 per night, and also offers two-hour Taxi-Boat tours from £50 per person.
The best time to visit is from May and October, when temperatures hover between 25 and 40C, you can watch birds migrating, and local speciality fish is abundant.
