Featured

In a word: Incline

When you first think of this word, it is with a slippery slope in mind.

I’ve been on a few of those in my time.

And while we’re on the subject, those inclines measured in degrees are very important if you want a train to get up and down the side of a mountain.

For the train, that’s an incline plane, the point where traction alone won’t get the iron horse up the hill.

Did I say ‘Iron Horse’? Sorry, regressed there, back to the mid-1800s in the American West for a moment.

It’s not that important when it comes to trucks and cars, and less so if you like four-wheel driving; getting up near-vertical mountainsides often present a welcome challenge to the true enthusiast

But for the rest of us, not so much if you find yourself sliding in reverse uncontrollably into the bay. I’m sure it’s happened more than once.

Then…

Are you inclined to go?

A very different sort of incline, ie to be disposed towards an attitude or desire.

An inclination, maybe, not to go four-wheel driving?

There is another, probably more obscure use of the word incline, and that relates to an elevated geological formation. Not the sort of reference that crops up in everyday conversation at the coffee shop.

But, you never know. Try it next time you have coffee and see what happens.

Featured

Writing about writing a book – Day 2

Hang about. Didn’t I read somewhere you need to plan your novel, create an outline setting the plot points, and flesh out the characters?

I’m sure it didn’t say, sit down and start writing!

Time to find a writing pad, and put my thinking cap on.

I make a list, what’s the story going to be about? Who’s going to be in it, at least at the start?

Like a newspaper story, I need a who, what, when, where, and how.

Right now.

I pick up the pen.

Character number one:

Computer nerd, ok, that’s a little close to the bone, a computer manager who is trying to be everything at once, and failing. Still me, but with a twist. Now, add a little mystery to him, and give him a secret, one that will only be revealed after a specific set of circumstance. Yes, I like that.

We’ll call him Bill, ex-regular army, a badly injured and repatriated soldier who was sent to fight a war in Vietnam, the result of which had made him, at times, unfit to live with.

He had a wife, which brings us to,

Character number two:

Ellen, Bill’s ex-wife, an army brat and a General’s daughter, and the result of one of those romances that met disapproval for so many reasons. It worked until Bill came back from the war, and from there it slowly disintegrated. There are two daughters, both by the time the novel begins, old enough to understand the ramifications of a divorce.

Character number three:

The man who is Bill’s immediate superior, the Services Department manager, a rather officious man who blindly follows orders, a man who takes pleasure in making others feel small and insignificant, and worst of all, takes the credit where none is due.

Oops, too much, that is my old boss. He’ll know immediately I’m parodying him. Tone it down, just a little, but more or less that’s him. Last name Benton. He will play a small role in the story.

Character number four:

Jennifer, the IT Department’s assistant manager, a woman who arrives in a shroud of mystery, and then, in time, to provide Bill with a shoulder to cry on when he and Ellen finally split, and perhaps something else later on.

The 2am Rant: Will it be time to get on the plane yet?

What I wanted to say is the world is going to hell in a handbasket, but the truth is, it’s probably just me.

If it’s possible and seeing it’s the only time we can go away, as we live in the southern hemisphere, it seems logical to go north.

OK, that’s probably not as rational as it sounded in my head a few seconds ago, because where we’re planning to go it’s about minus 16 degrees.

Where on earth could it be that cold, other than the North Pole? Lake Louise. Canada. Somewhere up in those snow-peaked mountains.

Why do we want to go there?

Because it’s there. Because we have been there before, and it literally took our breath away (notwithstanding the severe cold). And no doubt after we’ve been there in the dead of winter, we might have decided we won’t want to go back? Who knows.

But…

Oh, yes, there’s a but…

I need some good background for a story I’m writing, and if you’re going to do the winter thing, or the white Christmas thing, when your Christmases are usually 40 degrees Celsius in the shade, then Canada is the place to do it.

Aside from the fact, we might run into Detective Murdoch (from Murdoch Mysteries) in Toronto, and, definitely, the Maple Leafs, yes, I can see myself saying ‘go leafs go’, whilst sipping on a large glass of Molsen beer.

Then, perhaps we’ll go to New York for a week. Perhaps everything will be back to normal, but maybe not. Hopefully, there will be snow in Central Park, or, if not, the squirrels, and if not them, perhaps a movie star or two walking their dog.

One can always hope.

What I Learned About Writing – From First Draft to Focused Masterpiece

From First Draft to Focused Masterpiece

Crossing the finish line of your first draft is a triumph. The blank page is no more, and your ideas are finally spilling out. Yet, beneath that satisfaction often lingers an unspoken truth: the work isn’t done. Now comes the equally critical (and often underrated) task: narrowing the target. This phase transforms an amorphous draft into a sharp, impactful piece that resonates deeply with its audience. Think of it as sculpting the raw marble of your thoughts into a statue with purpose. Let’s explore how to do this with intention and clarity.

The Power of the First Draft

Before diving into refinement, it’s important to honour the messy beauty of your first draft. It’s a “get it out” stage—where creativity flows unfiltered, and every idea, no matter how half-baked, is welcomed. But here’s the thing: first drafts are not meant to be final products. They’re blueprints, prototypes, or even “vessels of possibility.” The magic happens next, when you take a step back and ask, “What is this really trying to say?”

Step 1: Identify Your Core Message

The first step in narrowing your target is distilling your work down to its essence. Ask yourself:

What is the single most important takeaway?
What changes do I want the reader to experience?

Write this down in a single sentence. If your draft aims to persuade, what’s the one action you want your reader to take? If it’s a story, what’s the central theme or emotion you want to evoke? This core message becomes your compass during the editing phase.

Example:

Vague: “Climate change is a problem that affects us all, and we need to do something about it.”
Narrowed: “Rising ocean temperatures are accelerating coastal erosion—here’s how you can advocate for immediate policy change in your community.”

The narrowed version focuses on a specific cause (ocean temperatures), effect (coastal erosion), and a clear call to action (advocacy and policy).

Step 2: Cut What Doesn’t Serve the Core

Once you have clarity on your message, ruthlessly edit out anything that doesn’t amplify it. This includes:

Tangential anecdotes: A personal story might have been fun to write, but if it doesn’t tie back to your point, it’s a detour.
Jargon or fluff: Replace vague phrases like “a lot of people” with specific data or terms.
Redundant sections: Are two paragraphs exploring the same idea? Consolidate.

Pro Tip: Use the “kill your darlings” mantra, but with a twist. If a line makes you cringe but still feels essential, it might belong. The goal isn’t to erase creativity—it’s to eliminate clutter.

Step 3: Refine Your Audience Focus

Know your reader’s face. The more specific you are about your audience’s needs, the sharper your focus. Ask:

Who is most likely to engage with this?
What do they need to know, feel, or do?

If your draft is for a niche audience (e.g., organic farmers, tech startups, grieving parents), tailor your language, examples, and structure to speak directly to them. Narrowing your audience isn’t about exclusion—it’s about connection.

Example:
A post about healthy eating for adolescent athletes versus busy working parents will require fundamentally different angles, even if the topic is the same.

Step 4: Use Feedback to Sharpen the Edge

Once you’ve narrowed your draft, seek feedback. Ask your beta readers or editors:

“Is the main point clear?”
“Did anything feel off-topic or confusing?”
“Where did I lose you?”

Their honest responses will highlight where your focus is strong and areas that need tightening.

Conclusion: From Broad to Bold

Narrowing your target isn’t about stifling creativity—it’s about amplifying it. By focusing on one core message, one audience, and one action, you create writing that’s not just heard but felt. So, after your first draft, give yourself permission to dig deeper. Prune, polish, and focus until your work becomes a beacon of clarity.

Your Turn: Grab a pen and write your core message in one sentence. If you can’t sum up your draft in a tweet, keep refining.

Final Thought: A narrow target may seem limiting, but it’s the very thing that turns a sea of words into a sea change.

365 Days of Writing, 2026 – 204

Day 204 – The truth about imagination

…

The Paradox of Creativity: Why Truth is the Ultimate Source of Imagination

We’ve all heard the compliment—or perhaps received it ourselves: “Your imagination is incredible. How do you come up with this stuff?”

It’s usually said with a sense of awe, as if you’ve just pulled a rabbit out of an empty hat, or channelled a world entirely detached from reality. But as a writer, creator, or storyteller, that praise often lands with a strange, paradoxical weight.

Why? Because you know the secret: you didn’t make most of it up.

Every fantastical world, every eccentric character arc, and every gripping plot twist was tethered to something real. You didn’t invent the emotion; you observed it. You didn’t conjure the setting from thin air; you cobbled it together from the texture of a memory, a snippet of overheard dialogue on the subway, or a raw truth you lived through five years ago.

So, how can it be that you are praised for your imagination, when every line you write is based on a truth?

Let’s explore the beautiful, messy alchemy of writing, where reality transforms into myth, and why telling the truth is the secret superpower behind all great fiction.

1. The Misunderstanding of “Imagination”

To understand the paradox, we first have to redefine imagination. Culturally, we tend to view imagination as a purely generative force—the ability to conjure something ex nihilo (out of nothing). We think of it as pure fantasy, magic, or delusion.

However, the true root of imaginative writing isn’t invention; it’s synthesis.

As the acclaimed fantasy author Neil Gaiman once noted, writers take two things that have never been put together before and glue them together. But those “two things” are almost always harvested from lived experience.

You didn’t invent grief; you simply mapped it onto a dragon rider losing their companion.
You didn’t invent awkward first-date anxiety; you just gave that nervous tic to an interstellar diplomat.

When readers praise your “imagination,” they aren’t applauding your ability to hallucinate a universe from a vacuum. They are applauding your ability to perceive the world deeply enough to rearrange its pieces into a new mosaic.

2. Emotional Truth Beats Factual Accuracy

In creative writing, there is a massive difference between fact and truth.

Facts are rigid. They are the exact coordinates, dates, and objective sequences of events.
Truths are fluid, resonant, and universally felt.

You can write a story about a spaceship navigating a black hole (pure science fiction/imagination), but if the protagonist is paralysed by the fear of being unloved, every reader in the audience suddenly relates. The spaceship is made up; the terror of rejection is a biological and emotional truth.

Readers praise your imagination because the outer shell of your story is fantastical. But they stay, and they feel moved, because the engine running underneath is fueled by undeniable human truth. You used a lie (a made-up world) to tell the truth (how it feels to be human).

3. The Filter of Subjectivity: Why It Still Belongs to You

If every line is based on a truth, why doesn’t everyone write the same story? Why is your book unique while mine is different?

The answer lies in the prism of subjectivity.

No two people experience the same truth in the exact same way. Memory is notoriously unreliable; it is colored by our traumas, our biases, our joys, and our desires. When you take a real-life argument, a genuine heartbreak, or a flash of beauty you witnessed at a park, it passes through the unique lens of who you are.

By the time that truth makes it from your nervous system, through your subconscious, and onto the page, it has been refracted into something entirely new. You didn’t invent the clay, but you are the only sculptor who could have shaped it quite like that. The praise for your “imagination” is actually praise for your perspective.

4. Observation: The Writer’s Real Job

Great writers are rarely geniuses locked in ivory towers; they are professional eavesdroppers and relentless watchers.

To base every line on a truth requires you to pay attention to the mundane world. It means noticing:

The specific way a grieving person’s hands shake when they try to hold a coffee cup.
The defensive cadence in someone’s voice when they are lying.
The sudden, heavy silence that falls over a room when a secret is revealed.

When you translate these minute, authentic observations into your writing, readers are startled by how “accurate” your creations feel. They say, “How did you imagine characters so complex?” But the truth is, you didn’t imagine them—you simply paid closer attention to real people than most are willing to do.

Embracing the Paradox

So, the next time someone marvels at your boundless imagination, don’t rush to correct them and explain that your protagonist’s emotional breakdown was ripped straight from your Tuesday afternoon panic attack.

Accept the compliment.

Understand that what they are really saying is: “Thank you for taking the messy, confusing, often painful truths of our shared existence, wrapping them in wonder, and handing them back to me in a way I could finally understand.”

Imagination isn’t the opposite of truth; it is truth’s translator. And as a writer, your job is simply to keep your eyes open, tell the truth, and let the magic take care of itself.

What truth are you turning into a story today? Let us know in the comments below!

…

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Sarajevo

The Un‑Seen Sarajevo: 5 Off‑The‑Beaten‑Path Experiences Worth the Detour

When you picture Sarajevo, you probably picture the iconic Baščaršija market, the Latin Bridge, or the panoramic tram ride up to the Sarajevo Bascarsija‑Tunnel Museum. Those sites are undeniably worth a visit, but the city’s real soul lives in the nooks and crannies that tourists rarely discover.
If you’re the type of traveller who prefers a side‑street over a main avenue, a hidden café over a crowded restaurant, or a quiet trail over a bustling viewpoint, keep reading. Below are five truly “road‑less‑travelled” activities that will give you a deeper, more intimate connection with Bosnia’s capital.

Wander the Secret Gardens of Vrelo Bosna – Beyond the Main Walkway

Why it feels off‑the‑map
Most visitors stroll the short, well‑signposted path that leads straight to the river’s mouth and snap a quick photo of the iconic meadow. Few venture farther up the valley where a network of stone‑lined footpaths winds through secluded glades, ancient oak groves, and a series of tiny, crystal‑clear pools that look like something out of a fairy‑tale.

What to do

Follow the “Old Trapper’s Trail.” Starting at the main parking lot, veer left after the first wooden bridge and look for a faded wooden sign reading “Staza lovca” (hunter’s trail).
Spot the “Stone‑Heart” (Kameni Srž). A natural limestone formation shaped like a heart, half‑submerged in a shallow pool—perfect for a quiet moment or a Instagram story that will genuinely surprise your followers.
Pack a light snack. The area is a perfect spot for a picnic under the shade of centuries‑old beech trees. Bring a small blanket, some local cheese (bjelica), and a bottle of Bosnian fruit‑wine.

Practical tips

Getting there: Take bus line 16 from the city centre to the “Vrelo Bosna” stop (≈15 min). The trailhead is a few minutes’ walk from the stop.
Best time: Early morning (7–9 am) in spring or early autumn. The lighting is soft, the crowds are non‑existent, and the air smells of wild mint.
What to bring: Sturdy walking shoes (the path includes a few rocky sections), a reusable water bottle, and a small rain jacket—weather can change quickly in the valleys.

Sip Coffee at Kovačevići’s “Mali Hram” – A Hidden Bosnian‑Austro‑Hungarian Café

Why it feels off‑the‑map
Tucked inside a modest residential block of the Kovačevići neighbourhood, “Mali Hram” (The Little Temple) is a tiny, family‑run coffee house that has been serving Bosnian coffee the same way since the 1900s. Its interior is a living museum: brass coffee pots, hand‑stitched tablecloths, and a faded photograph of a young Emperor Franz Julius I strolling through Sarajevo’s streets.

What to do

Order the “Bosanska Cevapi” espresso. It’s a double‑shot, dark roasted brew served with a slice of “hurmašice” (traditional sweet dumpling) on the side.
Chat with the owners. The elderly couple love sharing stories about how the café survived the siege, the Austro‑Hungarian era, and the city’s post‑war revival.
Listen to the old radio. A vintage 1930s German radio plays folk songs in the background, giving you a tangible sense of Sarajevo’s multicultural past.

Practical tips

Getting there: From the central train station, hop on tram line 1 toward “Ilidža” and get off at “Kovačevići” (≈12 min). Walk two blocks east; the café is marked only by a tiny hand‑painted sign.
Best time: Mid‑afternoon, when locals gather for “kafa i razgovor.” Expect a relaxed, unhurried pace.
What to bring: Cash (most small cafés don’t accept cards) and a notebook—many visitors leave a short message on the community board.

Trek to Hajdučke Kule – The Forgotten Ottoman Watchtowers

Why it feels off‑the‑map
While most tourists flock to the historic Clock Tower, few know that a row of three smaller stone towers – the “Hajdučke Kule” (Bandit Towers) – sit on the steep hillside overlooking the old town. Built in the 16th century to spot incoming raiders, they now offer an unobstructed panorama of Sarajevo’s red‑tile roofs, the Miljacka River snaking below, and the distant peaks of the Dinaric Alps.

What to do

Climb the middle tower. A narrow spiral staircase (≈30 steps) leads to a small viewing platform with a rusted iron railing. Bring a compact camera; the view is unfiltered – no tourist crowds, just the city’s raw silhouette.
Explore the “Stone Labyrinth.” At the base of the towers lies a network of ancient stone walls that locals used for rope‑making. Walk the labyrinth and feel the cool stone under your feet.
Capture sunset light. The western orientation floods the towers with golden light just before sunset, creating dramatic shadows ideal for photography.

Practical tips

Getting there: Take bus line 21 to “Koševo” and follow the signs to “Hajdučke Kule.” The trailhead is a short, steep stairwell leading up the hill.
Best time: Late afternoon in late spring or early summer, when the hillside is lush but the path isn’t slick.
What to bring: A flashlight (the interior of the towers is dim), a small first‑aid kit (the stairs are uneven), and a lightweight rain poncho.

Discover the Underground Art Gallery of the Sarajevo Tunnel – A Post‑War Secret

Why it feels off‑the‑map
The Sarajevo Tunnel Museum is a well‑known symbol of resilience, but beneath its concrete entrance lies a concealed, community‑run art space called “Podzemni Studio.” Created in 1997 by a group of former tunnel workers, it showcases raw, politically charged artworks made from salvaged war materials—metal, bullet casings, and glass shards.

What to do

Take the “Hidden Passage” tour. A volunteer guide leads a small group (max 8 people) down a dimly lit corridor to the studio. You’ll hear personal anecdotes about how the space helped heal trauma after the siege.
Interact with the installations. Some pieces are tactile; you can run your fingers over a sculpture made of welded railway tracks, symbolising the city’s connection between past and future.
Purchase a “Tunnel‑Made” souvenir. Small items—keychains, magnets, or hand‑crafted ceramic mugs—are sold to support the artists.

Practical tips

Getting there: Walk from the main tunnel museum (just a 5‑minute stroll). Look for the narrow door on the left side of the parking lot marked “Studio.”
Best time: Weekdays, early in the morning (9–11 am). The studio limits visitors to preserve the intimate atmosphere.
What to bring: A modest donation (the gallery is non‑profit), a respectful demeanour (some works deal with heavy themes), and curiosity.

Attend a Traditional “Sevdalinka” Evening in the Village of Bojan

Why it feels off‑the‑map
Sevdalinka, the soulful Bosnian folk song, is often performed in touristy restaurants in the Old Town. In Bojan—a small farming village 12 km south of Sarajevo—elder musicians gather every Saturday night in the courtyard of a centuries‑old stone house, singing unaccompanied a cappella renditions passed down through generations.

What to do

Join the circle. Bring a small portable seat or blanket, and sit on the low stone steps while locals welcome you with a warm “Dobrodošli.”
Learn a line. The host will hand you a lyric sheet and teach you the chorus—an unforgettable way to become part of the tradition.
Taste homemade “pita.” Freshly baked burek and honey‑drizzled pita (pie) are served on rustic wooden plates.

Practical tips

Getting there: Rent a car or take a local “taxi‑bush” (mini‑bus) from the “Ilidža” bus station to Bojan. The trip takes about 30 minutes on winding country roads.
Best time: Late summer (July–August) when the evenings are warm and the village’s olive trees are in full bloom.
What to bring: A respectful attitude, a small contribution (a bottle of local rakija or a few euros) for the host, and a camera with a discreet flash setting—photos are welcomed, but flash isn’t.

How to Fit All Five Into a 3‑Day Itinerary

Day	Morning	Afternoon	Evening
1	Vrelo Bosna hidden trails – hike & picnic	Hajdučke Kule – climb towers & sunset	Mali Hram café – coffee & conversation
2	Underground art gallery – Tunnel Studio tour	Bojan Sevdalinka evening – travel to village	Return to Sarajevo for a nightcap in the Old Town
3	Free day – revisit favorite spot or explore other museums	Optional: River rafting on the Miljacka or a museum of contemporary Bosnian art	Wrap‑up dinner at a local konoba (tavern) featuring live folk music

Feel free to shuffle the order—each activity stands on its own, but the rhythm above balances active exploration with relaxed cultural immersion.

Final Thoughts: Why the “Road‑Less‑Travelled” Matters

Travel isn’t just a checklist of monuments; it’s a conversation with the people, the landscapes, and the hidden histories that shape a place. In Sarajevo, the well‑trodden path tells you what the city is, while the side streets, secret gardens, and tucked‑away cafés whisper how Sarajevo has survived, adapted, and continued to sing its unique song.

So next time you book a trip to Bosnia’s capital, consider swapping one of those popular sights for a hidden trail, a modest coffee shop, or an underground gallery. You’ll return home with stories that are truly yours, and you’ll leave a lighter footprint—one that respects the intimacy of the places you discover.

Ready to venture off the map? Pack your walking shoes, bring an open heart, and let Sarajevo’s quieter corners reveal themselves. Happy exploring!

An excerpt from “Echoes from the Past”

Available on Amazon Kindle here: https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

…

With my attention elsewhere, I walked into a man who was hurrying in the opposite direction. He was a big man with a scar running down the left side of his face from the eye socket to the mouth, and he was wearing a black shirt with a red tie.

That was all I remembered as my heart almost stopped.

He apologised as he stepped to one side, the same way I stepped, as I also muttered an apology.

I kept my eyes down. He was not the sort of man I wanted to recognise later in a lineup. I stepped to the other side, and so did he. It was one of those situations. Finally getting out of sync, he kept going in his direction, and I went towards the bus, which was now pulling away from the curb.

Getting my breath back, I just stood riveted to the spot watching it join the traffic. I looked back over my shoulder, but the man I’d run into had gone. I shrugged and looked at my watch. It would be a few minutes before the next bus arrived.

Wait, or walk? I could also go by subway, but it was a long walk to the station. What the hell, I needed the exercise.

At the first intersection, the ‘Walk’ sign had just flashed to ‘Don’t Walk’. I thought I’d save a few minutes by not waiting for the next green light. As I stepped onto the road, I heard the screeching of tyres.

A yellow car stopped inches from me.

It was a high-powered sports car, perhaps a Lamborghini. I knew what they looked like because Marcus Bartleby owned one, as did every other junior executive in the city with a rich father.

Everyone stopped to look at me, then the car. It was that sort of car. I could see the driver through the windscreen shaking his fist, and I could see he was yelling too, but I couldn’t hear him. I stepped back onto the sidewalk, and he drove on. The moment had passed, and everyone went back to their business.

My heart rate hadn’t come down from the last encounter. Now it was approaching cardiac arrest, so I took a few minutes and several sets of lights to regain composure.

At the next intersection, I waited for the green light, and then a few seconds more, just to be sure. I was no longer in a hurry.

Next, I heard what sounded like a gunshot. A few people looked around, worried expressions on their faces, but when it happened again, I saw it was an old car backfiring. I also saw another yellow car, much the same as the one before, stopped on the side of the road. I thought nothing of it, other than it was the second yellow car I’d seen.

At the next intersection, I realised I was subconsciously heading towards Harry’s new bar. It was somewhere on 6^th Avenue, so I continued walking in what I thought was the right direction.

I don’t know why I looked behind me at the next intersection, but I did. There was another yellow car on the side of the road, not far from me. It, too, looked the same as the original Lamborghini, and I was starting to think it was not a coincidence.

Moments after crossing the road, I heard the roar of a sports car engine and saw the yellow car accelerate past me. As it passed by, I saw there were two people in it, and the blurry image of the passenger was a large man with a red tie.

Now my imagination was playing tricks.

It could not be the same man. He was going in a different direction.

In the few minutes I’d been standing on the pavement, it had started to snow; early for this time of year, and marking the start of what could be a long, cold winter. I shuddered, and it was not necessarily because of the temperature.

I looked up and saw a neon light advertising a bar, coincidentally the one Harry had ‘found’ and, looking once in the direction of the departing yellow car, I decided to go in. I would have a few drinks and then leave through the back door if there were one.

Just in case.

…

Top 5 sights on the road less travelled – Podgorica

Discovering Podgorica’s Hidden Gems: A Road Less Travelled

Nestled on the banks of the Morača River, Podgorica is often overshadowed by its mountainous neighbours and coastal rivals in the Balkans. But for those willing to venture beyond its bustling city centre, this Montenegrin capital holds a trove of quiet enchantments. If you’re craving a deeper, more offbeat experience, here are five extraordinary ways to unlock Podgorica’s soul.

1. Step Back in Time in Donja Lastva

Tucked just a short walk from the city centre, the historic neighbourhood of Donja Lastva is a labyrinth of cobblestone streets, 19th-century stone houses, and vibrant murals. Once a medieval merchant district, its peaceful atmosphere offers a stark contrast to Podgorica’s modern core. Stroll through hidden courtyards, admire the architecture, and sip a coffee at a local kafana (traditional café) to savour life at a slower pace. Don’t miss the Old Jewish Quarter, a poignant reminder of the community that once thrived here.

2. Unwind on Vrmac Hill

For panoramic views of the city and the surrounding mountains, head to Vrmac Hill. A short, family-friendly hike leads to a vantage point dominated by the Ethnographic Museum of Montenegro and a historic fort. The well-maintained trails are perfect for a morning walk or sunset picnic. In spring, the hillside bursts into colour with wildflowers, while autumn offers fiery foliage. It’s a favourite among locals, but rarely crowded with tourists.

3. Get Cultured at the Ethnographic Museum

Perched on Vrmac Hill, this quirky museum is a window into Montenegro’s rural heritage. Wander through recreated village houses filled with traditional costumes, farming tools, and folk art. The museum also hosts rotating contemporary art exhibitions, making it a fascinating blend of old and new. Pro tip: Visit on a weekday to have it mostly to yourself!

4. Shop and Savour at the Podgorica Municipal Market

For a taste of local life, head to the Podgorica Municipal Market (Pazar). Open six days a week, this bustling bazaar is a riot of colour and aroma. Sample krompiruša (Montenegrin potato soup), fresh ražnjići cheese, and fragrant herbs. Haggle for handmade crafts or pick up a jar of truffle honey from the region’s famed forests. It’s a feast for the senses—and your wallet!

5. Visit the Đurđe Krstić House – A Literary Pilgrimage

Poet and writer Đurđe Krstić (1879–1934) is Montenegro’s Shakespearean figure, and his 19th-century stone house in Podgorica is a modest tribute to his legacy. Now a museum, it’s housed in a simple, ivy-clad building where he once lived. Inside, you’ll find his personal library, manuscripts, and memorabilia. Though it’s a niche spot, it offers a poetic insight into Montenegro’s cultural heart.

Tips for Exploring Off the Beaten Path

Best Time to Go: Visit during the shoulder seasons (May–June or September–October) for milder weather and fewer crowds.
Transport: Most of these spots are walkable within the city centre, but consider renting a bike for a leisurely pace.
Taste the Local Flavour: Pair your explorations with a stop at Café Jelena or Risto – Montenegrin Cuisine for authentic, home-style meals.

Podgorica’s charm lies in its contrasts: history meeting modernity, tranquillity nestled next to the city’s pulse. By straying from the well-worn paths, you’ll uncover a city that’s unafraid to show its soul—and it’s waiting for you to discover it. So, pack your curiosity and let Podgorica surprise you, one hidden gem at a time.

Happy exploring!

Inspiration, maybe – Volume 1

50 photographs, 50 stories, of which there is one of the 50 below.

They all start with –

A picture paints … well, as many words as you like. For instance:

And the story:

…

It was once said that a desperate man has everything to lose.

The man I was chasing was desperate, but I, on the other hand, was more desperate to catch him.

He’d left a trail of dead people from one end of the island to the other.

The team had put in a lot of effort to locate him, and now his capture was imminent. We were following the car he was in, from a discreet distance, and, at the appropriate time, we would catch up, pull him over, and make the arrest.

There was nowhere for him to go.

The road led to a dead-end, and the only way off the mountain was back down the road we were now on. Which was why I was somewhat surprised when we discovered where he was.

Where was he going?

“Damn,” I heard Alan mutter. He was driving, being careful not to get too close, but not far enough away to lose sight of him.

“What?”

“I think he’s made us.”

“How?”

“Dumb bad luck, I’m guessing. Or he expected we’d follow him up the mountain. He’s just sped up.”

“How far away?”

“A half-mile. We should see him higher up when we turn the next corner.”

It took an eternity to get there, and when we did, Alan was right, only he was further on than we thought.”

“Step on it. Let’s catch him up before he gets to the top.”

Easy to say, not so easy to do. The road was treacherous, and in places, just gravel, and there were no guard rails to stop a three-thousand-foot fall down the mountainside.

Good thing then, I had the foresight to have three agents on the hill for just such a scenario.

Ten minutes later, we were in sight of the car, still moving quickly, but we were going slightly faster. We’d catch up just short of the summit car park.

Or so we thought.

Coming quickly around another corner, we almost slammed into the car we’d been chasing.

“What the hell…” Aland muttered.

I was out of the car and over to see if he was in it, but I knew that it was only a slender possibility. The car was empty, and no indication of where he had gone.

Certainly not up the road. It was relatively straightforward for the next mile, at which we would have reached the summit. Up the mountainside from here, or down.

I looked up. Nothing.

Alan yelled out, “He’s not going down, not that I can see, but if he did, there’s hardly a foothold and that’s a long fall.”

Then where did he go?

Then a man looking very much like our quarry came out from behind a rock embedded just a short distance up the hill.

“Sorry,” he said quite calmly. “Had to go if you know what I mean.”

I’d lost him.

It was as simple as that.

I had been led a merry chase up the hill, and all the time he was getting away in a different direction.

I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book, letting my desperation blind me to the disguise that anyone else would see through in an instant.

It was a lonely sight, looking down that road, knowing that I had to go all that way down again, only this time, without having to throw caution to the wind.

“Maybe next time,” Alan said.

“We’ll get him. It’s just a matter of time.”

…

Find this and other stories in “Inspiration, maybe”, available soon.

365 Days of Writing, 2026 – 204

Day 204 – The truth about imagination

…

The Paradox of Creativity: Why Truth is the Ultimate Source of Imagination

We’ve all heard the compliment—or perhaps received it ourselves: “Your imagination is incredible. How do you come up with this stuff?”

Why? Because you know the secret: you didn’t make most of it up.

So, how can it be that you are praised for your imagination, when every line you write is based on a truth?

Let’s explore the beautiful, messy alchemy of writing, where reality transforms into myth, and why telling the truth is the secret superpower behind all great fiction.