Tucked away on Montenegro’s northern coast, Herceg Novi is often overlooked by travellers rushing toward Kotor or Budva, yet it has a quiet charm that rewards anyone who slows down long enough to notice. During my drive along the Bay of Kotor, I decided to stop here for a few hours — a spontaneous detour that turned out to be one of the most memorable parts of the trip.
Herceg Novi sits at the entrance to the Bay of Kotor in Montenegro, where the sea opens wide and the hills rise steeply from the shore. Driving in, the first thing I noticed was how the old stone houses and churches climb the hillside, softened by palms and bright bursts of bougainvillaea. It feels different from Kotor — less polished, more lived-in — but no less striking. There’s a sense that life here moves at its own pace, unhurried by tourism and still deeply tied to the rhythm of the sea. Locals gathered on benches shaded by pines, chatting easily, while fishermen worked on their boats below. The town seemed to blend Mediterranean warmth with the ruggedness of the mountains behind it, giving it a charm that felt both coastal and alpine at once. Even before stepping out of the car, I could smell the salt in the air mixed with jasmine and pine resin, a scent that instantly told me I was somewhere special.
I parked near the old town and climbed the steps into a network of lanes and little squares. The paths all seemed to lead upwards until I reached Kanli Kula, the fortress that overlooks the bay. The climb was steep but rewarding; every turn revealed a new view of tiled rooftops and glimpses of the deep blue below. The cobbled alleys were dotted with art galleries, tiny bakeries, and stone archways where ivy crept across the walls. It was easy to imagine how many centuries of footsteps had worn these stones smooth. A cat darted across my path, slipping into a doorway that smelled faintly of fresh bread, and a woman sweeping her doorstep smiled as I passed. By the time I reached the fortress, I was breathless but happy to linger in the breeze that swept through its open courtyard.
From Kanli Kula, the views stretched across the bay, with the outline of Lovćen’s peaks faintly visible in the distance. The fortress itself, once used as a prison and later as an open-air theatre, seemed to hold layers of history within its stone walls. Standing there, I could see why it had been built — the vantage point gave a commanding view of every ship that entered or left the bay. Even with limited time, it felt worth the detour; the mix of scenery, architecture, and atmosphere made it one of those places where you don’t need to rush. I lingered on the ramparts, watching gulls glide over the water, before finally starting my slow descent. On the way back down I passed the Clock Tower, a whitewashed structure that looked out over the heart of the old town. Below it, the square buzzed gently with the sound of conversations and clinking coffee cups. I stopped at a café under the arches for a quick espresso, the kind that seems to taste stronger in places like this — maybe it’s the sea air, or maybe it’s just the feeling of being somewhere far from your routine.
By the time I reached the car again, the afternoon sun was dipping lower, turning the buildings a warm honey colour. I drove along the coast past Herceg Novi’s small beaches, where families were still swimming and couples strolled along the promenade. The town stretched out along the water, framed by tall cypress trees and bursts of red roofs cascading down the hill. Two hours was hardly enough to see everything, but it gave me a glimpse of the city’s character: colourful, steep, and quietly captivating. There was something authentic about it, something that made it feel lived-in rather than displayed. I knew I’d only scratched the surface — I hadn’t explored the monasteries tucked into the hills, or the seaside walk to Igalo, famous for its healing mud baths. As I drove away towards Budva, the light fading and the road curving along the coast, I found myself wishing I’d left room in the schedule for just a little more time. Herceg Novi deserved it.
