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At about 2 in the morning I finally managed to find and book a hotel for Podgorica, I had to ring them as it said there was no availability online.

It costs €55 (and that’s the cheapest in town) which is a bit annoying as that’s not far off a week’s worth of hostels but I didn’t really have any other choice. There’s only one hostel there as I’ve mentioned earlier and that has an 11pm curfew (one of many daft rules they implement) which is no good to me when my bus won’t get in until well after midnight.

At least the hotel is right near the bus station apparently, so I’m not going to have to faff about with directions or taxis.

Podgorica isn’t actually supposed to be that good but I like to see a country’s capital city and I don’t think I could have got to Kotor (near the Montenegro coast line) direct from here anyway. I’m looking forward to Kotor, it should be a chance to relax after what’s been quite a hectic few weeks.

Bloody hell, how annoying. I just had to hand over €4 (which lets face it, is pretty much 4 quid these days) to ‘The Professor’ at checkout as I’d borrowed one of the city guides and left it in the bus station while rushing about yesterday. It’s only a crappy small magazine, one that in most cities would be free, so I thought he was trying it on at first (and maybe he was and did get them free or cheap, I can’t have seen him forking out €80 for 20 as he said) but it does say in tiny letters on the front €4. This is fastly turning in to an expensive week.

I just stopped for a lunch time pint at a place where I saw there was a wireless network and before ordering I asked if it was their’s and the barman confirmed it. Then after I’ve got the pint of Peja they give me the password which is wrong and it transpires they don’t know the right one, great. I wanted to stock up on my podcasts for my imminent 7 hour bus journey. I guess I’ll just have to find another pub, oh the hardship.

I know I’ve not said much about Pristina as there isn’t really much to say, it’s not done anything for me. To be fair it is a city in what is in effect a new country which is changing fairly rapidly so in another 5 years who knows what it will be like.

The only thing I can think to mention is that Bill Clinton appears to be pretty big over here, streets and shops named after him and bill-boards (geddit?) with his swede plastered on. The Kosovan government even subsidises the cost of cigars. I presume all of this is because he was the American commander-in-chief when NATO bombed Serbia to get them off Kosovo’s back.

The mozsters got me again (8 bites is the count) as I forgot to apply the repellent last night, blighters to the end they are.

I just had a very early tea at XIX only 90 minutes after my lunch as I had to fit it in before my bus ride. It was my first ‘Full English’ in 2 months and it was ruddy gorge’.

Crikey, I’m dying for a haircut but with still the best part of 2 months to go I’m likely to look like Pat Sharp on my return.

On the bus now, goodo. I just got a bottle of water and a bag of crisps before embarking and the shopkeeper said to me “Where you from?”, “Manchester” was my obvious reply. “Wayne Rooney!”. “No, Carlos Tevez”. “Ah, Manchester City”. That’s more like it fella.

Oh boy this is going to be a long journey. They’ve just switched the ‘entertainment’ on. Some DVD of people (Albanians I think) singing and dancing to that awful tuneless Turkish sort of music. It’s penetrating and therefore ruining my Mayo and Kermode (though he’s not on it this week as he has swiney) weekly film reviews podcast.

I’d honestly rather listen to drum ‘n bass than this, it’s the most horrific sort of music on the planet and every ruddy song is exactly the same. I could make a killing (pun intended) selling cyanide capsules to fellow passengers.

I’m going to have to switch to something louder to drown out this assault on the ears out. Cue my thoughts on Beirut’s ‘March of the Zapotec and Realpeople Holland’. Well it’s almost a companion piece to their first album ‘The Gulag Orkestar’ with the powerful horn section and graceful synths present again. I really like it but it’s not quite at the standard of Gulag (granted, a very high standard that was), I’ll need to download the album imbetween now.

Over 2 and a half hours in and that stuff on the box is still going, they’ve turned it down a fair bit now though so I can bare it. Oddly, currently on screen is a tall and skinny Albanian man in a suit who is a great lookey likey for Matthew Kelly.

On the way out of Kosovo the customs man who boarded the bus was looking for my inbound stamp, I knew I should have got one when coming from Macedonia. Luckily he just gave it me back and that was that.

Very strangely there was no Montenegro customs at all, that’s a new one on me. Another stamp goes begging. I’m telling ya, it’s an international conspiracy to deprive me of the travelling badges of honour that are righly mine.

Actually I take it back, there is a Montenegro customs, but it’s a good 5 miles I reckon from the Kosovan border. That’s a new one on me. Got a stamp though, whoo!

They’ve turned the sound back up. Boo.

Well it’s gone over 7 hours and still no Podgorica. I don’t think it’s helped that the driver has stopped for ages loads. I hope we get there soon, I’m dying to collapse in my bed. The good thing is that my hotel is supposed to be 200 metres from the station.

Also, I’ve just yawned and my ears have popped. That’s made the travesty of sound even louder. Not pleased.

Another bleedin’ stop. The driver has the bladder of an infant guinea pig. Onwards I say, onwards!

This is ridiculous. This numpty has more breaks than a Spanish builder, they last ages and ages too. I’m not sure what I hate him more for, his music taste or his laziness. Nearly half 1 in the morning, I’m not going to get very long for my €55.

I’m finally there readers, thank Jehova.

The hotel is really nice, 10% off with my ISIC too which will save me a fiver. Night.