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Traveling into the clouds on our way to the top of Mount Lovcen (pronounced "lowve-chen"). Our driver was a 60-year old man who constantly had a lit cigarette in his mouth. His large 12-seat van reminded me of a Romanian "maxi-taxi." Because he didn't know any English, we took a detour to his Cetinje house to pick up his wife. She would be our tour guide for the round-trip excursion. She had a stronger grasp of English than Johan or I had of Serbo-Croatian... but not by much. She was a very honest woman, telling us quite frankly that today was not going to be a good day to go to the top: "View much better during summer," she said almost apologetically. Sure enough, the visibility became less and less - sometimes dropping down to just 10-15 feet - as we snaked up the mountain road. But I kept my spirits high and told Johan that all of these clouds would go away for us when we reached the top.
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