Kotor, Montenegro
Travelers can hoof it up this large hill to view Kotor from the mile-high fortress of St. Ivan.
David Farley
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Coming Soon: The Next Small Thing?

A couple of hours later, I was in a cab headed down the coast to the much-hyped island of Sveti Stefan with a talkative cab driver. He shared Danijela's views. "Life was much better 15 years ago," he told me as we rolled past construction sites where high-rise hotels will sit in a couple of years. When I asked him about independence from Serbia, he said it was inevitable. "The current president [Filip Vujanovic] will have to leave office because of term limits. But . . ., " he said, holding up his index finger for emphasis, "if we split with Serbia, he can remain in power. You see, this is Montenegro."

A few days earlier in Dubrovnik, my British-born hotel owner, who has spent the majority of his life in the region, primed me on the situation in Montenegro. "The entire country is run by the Mafia," he said.

Kotor, Montenegro
The town of Kotor used three miles of walls to protect such treasures as the Square of Weapons and, above, St. Tryphon cathedral. (David Farley - David Farley)

"The Italian Mafia," I asked, "or is there a Montenegrin or Serbian Mafia that's running the show there?"

"Take your pick," he said.

Exaggeration or not, Montenegrins seem to accept that their government officials are corrupt. Allegations that current prime minister Milo Djukanovic -- who's been in continual power in one form or another since 1991 -- participated in an Italian-Mafia-led tobacco ring didn't stop him from getting reelected in 2002.

It was an intense conversation the driver and I were having, and one that I didn't necessarily want to end--but then Sveti Stefan came into view, which silenced both of us. What's unique about this island and former 15th-century fishing village -- connected to the mainland by a narrow cement walkway -- is that the government converted the entire football field-size hamlet into an upscale hotel in the 1950s. The rich and famous (and a few ordinary folks) came, staying in the red-tiled, adobe-like structures that cram the island -- presumably former homes of residents.

The driver got out of the car with me. He pointed to the island about 300 feet away and gave me a detailed history, concluding with, "The Russians want to buy it, and I wouldn't be surprised if the government sold it to them."

In fact, the posh Aman Resorts recently won a bid to restore Sveti Stefan to its former glory, which will surely make it one of the most exclusive resorts on the Adriatic . . . and certain to bring back the celebrities.

I paid the entrance fee ($8 for non-hotel guests) and strolled the island's cobblestone alleys and past cottages. I plopped down at a cafe (the island also has a pub, restaurant and casino) and ordered a glass of local red wine. Looking down the coast, where new resorts are sure to sprout in the next few years, I thought about the shirtless Serbian I'd met in Kotor. Like me, he's no longer asking himself why he hadn't come to Montenegro earlier; instead, he's certainly asking a new question: When can I come back? But maybe by that time, some other yet-to-be--determined, nearby developing hot spot, certain to be called the "next Montenegro," will beckon us both.

David Farley, a New York writer, is the editor of the anthology "Travelers' Tales Prague and the Czech Republic."


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