The Klisura tunnel, 2.8 km long, was built with many challenges, much like the famous City of Skadar story, where what was completed in a few months would be undone by water in the following ones. Its construction exceeded both time and financial estimates, and by a wide margin. From the moment preparations for its construction began, I closely followed developments. Just when I lost hope that it would ever open, I was surprised by the news: “The tunnel between Jezerine and Lubnice is entering trial operation.” The following weekend, when we were discussing where to go for a drive (since hiking was currently on hold), the first idea was: “Let’s try the tunnel!”
The last Saturday in March felt like May. The day was perfect. From Zlatica, we quickly connected to the highway, passed through Kolašin, and soon arrived at the tunnel entrance. We noted that the road from Kolašin to Jezerine could use at least a little attention, if not a major reconstruction. We passed through the tunnel faster than expected. Straight as an arrow. In the blink of an eye, we found ourselves under Jelovica. Anyone unaware of the difficulties builders faced would never guess while driving through it. It looked entirely “tame.”
I had traveled from Lubnice to the tunnel twice, once via a gravel road over Bjelasica, so the area beyond the tunnel was familiar. But for Duško, my husband, it was new. He was amazed at the many structures already built and those still under construction. Captivated by the nature, he logically concluded: “It’s no wonder there are so many cottages here. The surroundings are beautiful.”
We passed by Hotel “Jelovica.” I once followed articles in “Monitor” about the man who bought it, promising grand developments before disappearing without a trace. I don’t know if there have been any new updates on this case in recent years, as it’s hard to keep track of all the “controversial businessmen” and their ventures from past decades. We stopped just past the tunnel to observe the surroundings and the meadows, where only saffron flowers had bloomed.
We continued towards Lubnice on a broad, winding road with surprisingly heavy traffic. We weren’t the only ones with the idea to “try” the tunnel. Many cars from Berane and Andrijevica were heading south. Since we hadn’t planned our route when we left home, upon reaching Lubnice, I suggested, “We could go to Veliko Šiško Lake. You haven’t seen Ševarina.” That convinced him to turn left towards Kurikuće and continue to the lake.
If we had known the road’s condition, we wouldn’t have ventured. But after navigating some patches of asphalt to Kurikuće, we continued despite worsening conditions. And so we covered around 11 km. We didn’t stop at Veliko Šiško Lake and instead continued to Ševarina or Ševarinsko Lake, a little over a kilometer away from Veliko Šiško. Despite the muddy road, it was far better than the path to the first lake. We passed the Šiška Katun, which I fondly remembered because of the delicious food offered by Mrs. Dubak, who, besides tending to livestock, finds time to treat travelers with homemade food. Of course, no one was at the katun yet, but just thinking back to the “great meals” from a year and a half ago brought a smile.
Ševarinsko Lake looked completely different from autumn 2022. Back then, it was mostly covered with grass, but now it was largely blanketed with snow, which surprised me, as it was scarce elsewhere.
With no hurry, I took a leisurely walk around the lake. I noticed that the entire lake could be circled by an off-road vehicle, though unnecessary due to its small size. Just above the worn path I followed, I saw a structure whose purpose wasn’t immediately clear. Upon approaching and reading the sign on it, it all became clear. It was a photo-hide, where those with patience and good cameras could “capture” animals coming to drink. I could only imagine the range of wildlife, as the only creatures we startled were two ducks flying away. Built under a lovely project called “Hu-hu: Following the Trails of Owls and Other Wildlife,” the photo-hide connects nature’s beauty (including animals), cultural heritage, and the gastronomic offerings of rural households through cross-border cooperation with Serbia. I was fortunate to be one of the few “media representatives” who followed the project’s results. We couldn’t see everything, but it happened that almost a year and a half later, I stumbled upon this photo-hide.
From some angles, it seemed as though the lake was entirely snow-covered. The forest around Ševarinsko Lake reminded me of the one around Pešić Lake, unsurprising since both are on Bjelasica, about 8 km apart as the crow flies, by my rough estimate.
We returned to Veliko Šiško Lake, where I noticed a table under a tree in a blooming meadow—a stark contrast to the snow-covered lake. Approaching the stream, I discovered a commemorative fountain. I have a fondness for these memorial fountains, seeing them as the best way to keep the memory of those no longer with us.
Back at Veliko Šiško Lake, Duško took out a book and refused to walk, so I climbed above the lake to capture it in a single frame. While climbing, I snapped shots of nearby snowy peaks, newly bloomed flowers, and, of course, the lake itself. From the top, using a mobile app, I realized that the peaks in the distance, toward Ševarinsko Lake, belonged to Hajla.
This was my fourth visit to Veliko Šiško Lake. Each time, it seemed more beautiful than the last. From the hill, the lake view was enchanting. I intended to go a bit further behind the hill, but the wind was so strong that I gave up. Duško was calmly reading on a wooden platform. I was shocked at the number of plastic bottles around him. Likely, these bottles had come down with the snow, left behind by irresponsible visitors. Although I always mean to, I forget to keep trash bags and gloves in the car. I couldn’t bear to leave the bottles there, so I searched the trunk and remembered some plastic sacks we’d stored near the spare tire long ago. They felt like a godsend. I filled five bags. Duško reluctantly helped, muttering, “Maybe someone else will clean it up…” But, at that moment, there was no “someone else.” The trunk full of plastic bottles ended up in the recycling yard at Zlatica, as we couldn’t find a similar facility in Berane.
The road back seemed even worse than on the way in, and we occasionally questioned how we had managed it. At the turn towards the part of Bjelasica belonging to Kolašin, we stopped to look at a monument on a small hill, curious about its dedication. It read that “descendants and relatives” erected it in 2011 in memory of ancestors who perished in 1877.
Across from a large, beautiful mountaineering lodge renovated in 2011, there was also a commemorative fountain. Although the inscription had faded, it was dedicated to Branko Božović (1925–1986), raised by members of PSD “Vojo Maslovarić” from Ivangrad.
We were surprised by Kurikuće. By today’s standards, it’s a large village with quite a few residents present that Saturday. Some may have come for the weekend, but it seemed that many lived there permanently. From there, we headed to Berane, took a walk to the town center, and ended up in a hotel sharing the town’s name. The hotel was right on the banks of the Lim river, which looked powerful that day – I can’t recall seeing it like that before. We returned the same way, satisfied with the fact that Podgorica and Berane are now just an hour and a half apart, opening up the possibility for day trips in this part of our country.
The “Klisura” tunnel is located around 15 km from Kolašin, 80 km from Podgorica Airport (Montenegro), 170 km from Tivat Airport (Montenegro), 220 km from Ćilipi Airport in Dubrovnik (Croatia), and 210 km from Tirana Airport (Albania).
Translation is AI genarated
Bonus video:
