The Cheapskate Express (Our Budget Route to Finland)

Europe is great because you can fly just about anywhere in under three hours. The prices are so cheap, thanks to budget airlines like Ryanair and EasyJet it’s not difficult to find flights for under $100. This is true for going from Albania to pretty much anywhere. Except, of course, for the one place we needed to go- Finland.

It was just about Midsummer and we were hoping to catch Sam and Elli while they had the holiday week off. But first we had to get there. This is the lame part of travel- all the admin that builds up like homework with a price tag.

We spent hours pricing up every possible route from Shkoder to Turku; flying via Stockholm, Copenhagen, Krakow, Riga or Milan. We thought about catching the ferry from Estonia or Sweden. But we weren’t finding anything for less than $300 each – brutal- this was about a quarter of our monthly budget, and we still had to buy more flights this month.

It was only thanks to a fortunate find by Finn that we were able to make it to the Land of a Thousand Lakes via Dubrovnik, Croatia. So we had wrapped up our hike in the Albanian Alps and had four days until our flight. We knew that Dubrovnik was very expensive so we decided to split our time and stop over Budva, Montenegro on the way.

We hadn’t done any research on Budva before we arrived, so we had no idea what to expect. Turns out, its nickname is the “Montenegrin Miami”- I haven’t been to Miami but I think that sums it up quite well. What we thought would be a nice relaxed beach town is actually the number one holiday destination in Montenegro. The place is packed with hordes of holidaymakers bathing on overpriced sun loungers and plodding down main street in their togs and inflatable rings. Music plays through both the days and nights, except in the evening it’s paired with a side of neon lights and party animals.

While there’s a seaside citadel and plenty of historic background, that feels sidelined in favour of the beach and nightlife. What a luxury to be able to cast history aside in a country where there’s so much of it!

We had a nice enough day in Budva, we enjoyed the blue water swims and exploring the old town. But I couldn’t help feeling that everything was just a bit lacking- the beaches were too packed and too plain (We would have loved to see some fish or be able to jump off some rocks). The old town was nice but dominated by kitschy souvenir shops. And the whole place was suffused with an inescapable air of consumerism. I can’t quite comprehend why so many people spend their treasured holidays on overcrowded beach drinking overpriced drinks.

And then before we knew it, we were hopping on the bus and crossing back into the EU. The border agent stamped my passport while texting on WhatsApp.

On first glance, Dubrovnik is very similar to Budva, though bigger. It had a fortified old town down the road from the new town centre, turquoise beaches, and loads and loads of tourists. As well as everything that comes with tourism: souvenir central, eye-watering prices, lots of American accents. Just as we expected, Dubrovnik was way more expensive than Budva. The night before we had paid $75 for a two person AirBnb, whereas in Dubrovnik, it was least double. So instead, we spent $90 on two beds in the cheapest possible 10 bed hostel room.

The hostel, ironically called ‘Hostel Dubrovnik Center’, was 5km out from the centre, which required navigating the bus system to get to. Since our most recent experience with city buses was in Albania, we were pleasantly surprised to find that the Croatian system was straightfoward and well organised. Every bus station was clearly marked with a colour-coded route map, and you could buy a one-hour ticket for your line of choice from any newsagent or tap on directly with your eftpos card for a slightly higher fee. The busses were even modern German imports with air conditioning and plenty of space. Ah, the luxuries of the EU!

The hostel, however, left something to be desired. Right off the bat, we found it odd that check in was as late as 5pm. Then when we arrived, we were immediately confronted with dozens of signs reminding us in capital letters of their various policies and fines. Some graces we had come to expect from Southern European hostels were clearly considered luxurious add-ons, such as $10 to store your luggage outside of check in, $6 to use the toilet after checkout and $10 for the shower. An early check in before 5pm would set you back $20, which was the same price as a load of ridiculously expensive laundry. While they didn’t have a kitchen per se, there was an outdoor area with benches, sinks, a fridge and a kettle. And of course, plenty of signs, which said something along the lines of:

WE DO NOT HAVE A KITCHEN
WE WILL NEVER HAVE A KITCHEN
WE HAVE NEVER ADVERTISED HAVING A KITCHEN
DO NOT ASK US FOR DISHES OR CUTLERY
PLEASE DO NOT GIVE US A BAD REVIEW REGARDING THE KITCHEN

In the evening, we hung out with some people from the hostel, including an Australian/Peruvian who is cycling from Paris to Athens and an Argentinian who just completed his studies in politics, philosophy, economics and cognitive neuroscience in the US. Since the restaurant prices were so extortionate, and there was no way for us to cook food of our own, Finn and I had to get creative at the supermarket. We didn’t know that there was a kettle, so we were limited to cold food. After a lot of back and forth, we ended up having tinned tuna sandwiches, and cornflakes with milk and yogurt for desert. For lunch we had the usual: a salami sandwich. I swear we have been having a salami sandwich every day. Sometimes we mix it up and add lettuce or butter, but only when we have access to a fridge. We’re not sick of it yet (so long as we have good bakery bread) but I know eventually I will be so over it!

Our perspective of Dubrovnik significantly improved the next day, when we woke up early and caught the bus into the old town before most of the tourists arrived. Since our flight to Finland was at an ungodly hour the next morning, we’d had the decency to book at least one night in a guesthouse close to the airport bus stop. After a bit of faff trying to drop our bags off — and a LOT of stairs — we were free to explore.

The old town is an incredibly well preserved medieval city. Known as the ‘Pearl of the Adriatic’, Dubrovnik was once a bustling trading port and significant maritime power. After being founded in the 7th century by Roman refugees, it was a protectorate of the Byzantine Empire, and later the Republic of Venice. The whole city is encased by sturdy stone walls, which you can walk along for the low price of $80. Within the walls are classic cobbled streets, as well as baroque palaces, churches and monasteries, polished limestone squares and drinking water fountains. The highlight, however, was when we heard the faintest sound of music through the stone. We followed the noise through a maze of narrow alleyways to an entryway so tiny we had to bow our heads to fit through. And when we looked up, we found ourselves on a small cliff, sandwiched between the ancient limestone and the glistening sea. This small area had a little bar of only ten tables, the rest was a tiered rocky outcrop that jutted out into the sea.

We spent a while here, jumping into the water. We rode the currents around the corner into a little bay which had higher cliffs to climb and jump from. It was magical- just us, the waves, and centuries of history right above us.

If we could have stayed for longer, we would have. But past us, in a moment of optimism, had booked a 5am flight that meant waking up 3am and yawning our way onto the very earliest airport bus. To keep costs down even more (of course) we had decided to only pay for one bag between the two of us. So we had to merge everything into one 20kg mega-bag and awkwardly carry it while we shuffled to the bus stop in the dark.

So we stayed in some strange hostels, lived off tuna and cereal, and had an awkward journey carrying this behemoth of a bag to the airport. It wasn’t exactly smooth, but it got us there. And for what we saved in money, we made up for in stories.

Signing off,
Milly