After 4 relaxing days off we left Kotor, said our goodbyes to Clémence and Andrés who were heading towards Kosovo, and started off towards Albania.

The weather had taken a turn for the worst (our unbelievable luck with weeks and weeks of beautiful sunshine may have come to an end), the sky was now grey and the forecast was for rain. As we cycled out of Kotor it started to spit, and by the time we came out of the tunnel that led towards the coast the spits had turned to rain, which got heavier with each passing minute. We spotted a petrol station with a café and pulled in to shelter and put the rest of our wet weather gear on. An hour later, with what we hoped was the heaviest rain past, we headed back out and continued along the rather busy E80 towards Budva.

The rest of the ride was wet and relatively uneventful, until we were climbing the last large hill for the day (Matt might have been a bit premature in farewelling the mountains). I was a few hundred meters behind (as is often the case when we climb), and a man driving the opposite way slowed, wound down his window, and asked me something from across the highway. I had no idea what he said, but he then did a u-turn and pulled up in front of me. He hopped out of his car, ran around behind where I was now stopped, opened his boot, and motioned for me to put my bike into his car. I did my best to say that I was okay, that Matt is just up ahead, and that he really didn’t need to be doing whatever it was he was trying to do, including pointing out just how wet and dirty my bike was. He was having none of it, gave up motioning and picked my bike up and proceeded to load it into his car. That done, he motioned for me to hop in the passenger seat.

Out of options, I figured I may as well just go along and see where this unbelievably strange encounter would lead (although I was very insistent that we stop next to Matt on the way up, so that he was aware that both I and my bike were now in this man’s car and heading up the hill).

Normally, being the risk adverse planner that I am, I’d find this kind of unknown spontaneous encounter completely alarming. However there was something about him that was comforting (once I’d gotten over the initial shock), and we were soon ‘chatting’ about which parts of Montenegro I had been to and where I was heading next. We crested the top of the hill, and he pulled over and took my bike out of the car, and let me know that it was all down hill to my destination from here. He also managed to let me know that he had a place in Petrovac (10km back) where we could sleep for free, which was done largely by making the universal sleep sign with his hands and writing ‘000 euros’ on the water drops on the car window. I had to decline, as knowing it was likely to rain we’d already booked an apartment for the night, so I didn’t get to find out how that part of the adventure might have ended.

Having then done all he could for me, he gave me one of the nicest handshakes I’ve ever had (which included holding my hand to his cheek), hopped back in his car and turned around and drove back the way he was originally heading.

I can only assume that he had first seen Matt, and then me so far behind, and decided that I needed a little help and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. It was such an unbelievably kind gesture, and I can only hope that I managed to pull myself together enough by the end of the encounter to at least get across a little of how grateful I was for his kindness.