Chasing the Rocky Coast
May my heart be always open to little
birds which are the secrets of living…
Come with me on a journey. Trust me; your zest for life will be renewed.
A road weaves around the rocks. This is the road from Budva that serpentines further into coastal Montenegro. Despite the steep turns I can’t concentrate on the road as I yield to the temptation of looking around to feast my eyes on the fascinating view of the endless Adriatic Sea, sparkling under the bright Montenegro sun. The serpent draws to a close and I take the first turn off the main road to a secret place; a place that tourists rarely have a chance to experience. Why? Either the absence of guided tours, non-familiarity or simply because that’s the way it usually is with most precious things. They take effort to find and are never on the surface. A winding dirt road entices us further. I am accompanied by rocks on the one side and the sea on the other combined with titillating anticipation; they are softly whispering that my journey will be rewarded.
Ploce. Like the light at the end of the tunnel spurting forth or a flower at the top of a tall stalk, the awe-inspiring Ploce unfolds before us; an infinite sea in a setting of grey rocks. It feels as if this place has risen over the rest of the ground in its aspiration to merge with the sky. Rugged rocks cascade down to the water. On my left, the mountain silhouettes the horizon and descends in an impeccably straight line to the sea. On mt right is another sharp outline of rocks. This enigmatic place exudes power. Its charismatic character creeps inside me as I, permeating the electronic vibe of the place, come to a halt. Ploce is ever-changing. Only here does the commonly placid Adriatic Sea welter and billow; run high with powerful, thrilling and altogether intimidating waves. The sea fades into the distance and reflects the sky so impeccably that I can’t tell the reflection from the essence. I hold my breath so as not to impair the harmony. Here, dolphins swim close to the shore and flirt with the rocks; formidable vultures stretch their gaunt necks and strenuously peer into the distance.
The rocks continue further. If I am brave enough more enigmas will expose themselves to me. The rocky range enshrouds the old lighthouse. There’s something miraculous about those tall tower-like edifices that merge so naturally with the seascape; something about their guiding, life-saving mission. A set of stairs leads down from the Lighthouse. I follow it and find myself at the foot of a small natural pond, a rill in the rock, naturally fed by the sea. I cannot resist the temptation so slip out my dress and plunge into the desired coolness. That’s a dip that has to be experienced. Revived, I continue my Ploce exploration; more secrets are to be discovered. Shortly I see a tiny island, or rather an isolated spiky rock, ragged and sharp. Like a prodigal son, it broke off the mainland and now reflects contemptuously on it. My eyes feast on the sight and yet I probably won’t notice the tough beauty it holds in itself. My attention is seized by a little Orthodox Church perched on the very top of the rock. For centuries people have been trying to solve the conundrum of the Easter Island but Montenegro preserves its own secrets, which are abundant.
I never experience Ploce again the same way I leave it. Every time I discover a new facet of the rocks, the sea, the sky; something I never noticed before, or something which actually had not existed. Uncover your own secret at Ploce and let it be only yours.
The water around the island is emerald green. Eloquent words are flushed away by its beauty. I jump off the rock into its dense, yet transparent, velvet depth.