The sun is up in the sky early, coming up from behind the mountains. At 5:30 my brother goes out to swim alongside a pair of dolphins that arrived in Kotor Bay some 5 years ago and decided to start a family.

Sister and I get up much later, make coffee, and then talk, and talk, and talk. Temperatures reach the 90s by 11 am.

“Talking?” you ask. “You can do that back home, right?”

No, back home we have to check on Lori, feed the dogs, walk them, answer emails, start writing, attached to the plan of the day with psychic cables. I might make a break and saunter off to see the hummingbird feeders, but am lassoed back by desk and computer, the harshest bosses around.

Not here, in Tivat in Montenegro. Here we watch the all-important Euro football championships into the last night, saw Mbappe get his nose broken by an overeager Austrian defender, and while I write this on the veranda overlooking the bay where we swim every afternoon, the Georgians and Turks are battling it out on TV in the living room.

The Airbnb is 2 wonderful bedrooms, kitchen and living room, and a view of green hills and craggy, giant mountains behind them.

We spent all morning today lazing over coffee and danishes, discussing Western secular values, Jewish and Islamic values, our parents, children, what we’re reading, who we’re listening to, and why we bother to get up in the morning. Dinner here last night: fish (something similar to barramundi), potatoes, salad, Montenegrin white wine, followed by more football and reading. Toasted my sister’s 70th birthday, too.

Shopping today, giving opinions in loud English to each other like ugly Americans.

What’s not to love?

View from our airbnb

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