It´s raining rain, hallelujah.

Autumn boats waiting patiently for their owners to sober up
A man in the street ploughed me with vodka and disinformation after this bridge, I think there was only one road anyway, but who cares after a snifter? The one we took was shrouded in dripping moss and fine mist.
Mountains dissolving into marshy lakelands, a fine reward for cowering on a hill for two days solid as thunderstorms lashed the tent.
You shall have a fishy on a little dishy......
Spiky camp before Podgorica, which, incidentally, is a shit hole.