Hey guys! Today, we’re doing something a little different. As you know, from my last post, I hit some internet snags, so we’re jumping ahead. Since we’re out of sequence, let’s call this post 15.5. I’ve gotten messages from a few of you asking if I’m continuing daily blogs – I love the support and appreciate it more than you know! It’s a ton of work, so while I’ll post as often as I can, some days I’ll go lighter on resolution to make things quicker.

Uploading in 4K is a beast – it can take hours to render and days to upload over Starlink. Reliable as it is, the battery drain is real, and I don’t exactly want to sleep next to a satellite dish and Wi-Fi blasting away. So, I’m experimenting with a signal-free setup for my electronics. More on that in the next blog, but for now, let’s dive into today’s adventure.

Waking Up at the Abandoned Hotel

This morning, I woke up in my makeshift Lambo-camper on a beach between Budva and Bar, Montenegro, parked beside an 18-story abandoned hotel. Once considered the crown jewel of Yugoslavia, it’s now a haunting, graffiti-covered relic. From what I’ve pieced together, the building’s left side dates back to the 1960s, and a Russian investor tried to revive it in the late 90s or early 2000s. The new structure on the right was added, complete with a concrete facade meant to blend the two parts into a modernized whole.

The sight is surreal – a massive structure in ruins, covered in graffiti and murals that lend a unique, almost rebellious character to the place. The original side (Left in the above photo) of the building is low-ceilinged and outdated, while the new side (right in above photo)  is more imposing but equally dilapidated. It’s a testament to grand ambitions cut short, and to be honest, there’s something hauntingly beautiful about it.

ПокоЙ вдали = Russian for "peace in the distance" 

I find great meaning in this even though I cannot pronounce it.

Once I started exploring the building, my instinct to evaluate it kicked in. The lobby entrance was a wooden plank stretching across the beach-side entrance – far from a red carpet welcome. Inside, elevator shafts climbed up 18 floors, but the way they lean off-center suggests they poured the structure floor by floor. This isn’t uncommon in some less developed regions, where they don’t build elevator shafts and stairwells as separate entities like we do in the States. Over there, they’re independent structures, poured and fortified before anything else, which keeps everything square, safe, and easier to maintain long-term. Here, I was seeing a build that likely cut corners – adding to the future construction challenges.

Moving through the floors, I realized just how massive this structure is. Conservatively, I’d say the building (including event spaces) spans over a million square feet. Around the 12th floor, there’s a pool and what looks like it was meant to be an entertainment hall. Everywhere I looked, there were signs of serious neglect. Spalling concrete, where rusted rebar pokes through, suggests improper embedding in the original pour. Once rebar begins rusting and expanding, it cracks the concrete around it, and from a structural standpoint, this damage requires extensive (read: costly) intervention.

Just for kicks, I ran a rough estimate of what it would take to restore this place to safety and operational standards. The necessary repairs would easily run into the millions, and that’s before you even factor in finishing the project.

Reviving the Dream (or Not)

The place is covered in graffiti, and while some might see it as vandalism, I think it adds a unique edge. If I were going to take on this project, I’d keep that “abandoned art” theme. Imagine turning this place into a five-star hotel where each floor is personalized by local and international artists, blending luxury with raw, urban charm.

On my tour I came across a girl painting this piece live, which she finished by the time I went to the top and came back down. 

That said, the project has some significant economic hurdles. According to my research in the area  hotel occupancy rates average around 50% year-round, with nightly rates ranging from $60 to $160. Although tourism has seen an uptick, there’s no guarantee it will sustain.  Given the local infrastructure needs – especially on the beach – this project would need heavy government support to make sense financially.

Structural Realities and Feasibility

On the rooftop, I found water pooling in odd places, a likely sign of poor drainage planning. A few decades of water damage have only worsened the concrete’s wear and tear. As I inspected, I realized that even beyond the dollars and cents, this building’s structural lifespan is already compromised.

The Bottom Line: While the location has appeal, the scale and condition of this structure make it a high-risk project. It would take substantial investment and community backing to bring it up to my sense of a safe code, let alone turn a profit.

The Takeaway

Exploring the building, running the numbers, and reimagining what it could become made for a unique day. I got my dose of adventure, engineering curiosity, and investment analysis – all in one. If you’re ever in Montenegro, it’s worth a look, but stay cautious. This place is truly an abandoned giant, with all the raw beauty and danger that comes with that title.

You thought that was a full day? Not even close! After my abandoned hotel adventure, I headed south, passing through a small town along the way.  I pulled up next to a cyclist who told me the town was worth exploring. Curiosity piqued, I turned back, and that’s where the real adventure kicked in.

The Fire Trucks and TikTok Fans

First stop was a side street by the beach, then I stumbled across some old fire trucks. As I snapped a few photos, the local firefighters flagged me down. To my surprise, they’d been following my journey on TikTok and wanted to meet up! They gave me a tour of the fire trucks and even an old Lada, letting me fire one of the trucks up. It was fascinating to chat about firefighting in Montenegro, where buildings are mostly made of stone and block, unlike the 2x4s and timber structures back in the States. Their calls are primarily car accidents and wild forest fires—totally different from what I’m used to.

The full interview and exploration of their building will be up soon on my second YouTube channel. I mentioned to them that my only other vehicle (aside from my Lambo-camper) is an old fire truck I’m restoring with a friend. That project’s on the back burner for now, but I hope to get back to it and eventually drive it home from Michigan. If there are any historic air brake specialists reading this, reach out to me on Instagram or by email—I’d love to hear from you!

Just as we wrapped up, some young locals, including a few girls and even a boy who had quite the vocabulary straight out of an American movie, came by to say hello. You’ll see in the YouTube video I had to bleep a few things! It was a fun mix of cultures, and it just goes to show how social media brings people together across borders.

Sunset, Saltwater Pasta, and the Perfect Campsite

After parting ways with the firefighters, they recommended a beach nearby for camping. I arrived just in time to catch an amazing sunset. I decided to cook dinner using a “perfect” saltwater-to-freshwater ratio Chat GPT had recommended—1:3. Turns out, that was way too salty! I’d suggest a 1:4 ratio instead if you’re trying it; mine was a bit too salty ocean-flavored to finish.

With the sun setting and my camper set up with a bed net over the back door, I managed to keep out the mosquitoes and flies. Watching the sky fade into evening in this pristine spot, with only the quiet hum of nature around me, was a peaceful end to a day full of surprises. In so many beautiful places, you get bugs, noise, and distractions, but this place with my bed bugnet it was a utopia.

With that, I’m signing off – good night from Montenegro! See you in the next post.