It was just a whim to go to Montenegro for a few days. It seemed romantic, and we'd heard it was very beautiful, and, well, it was different.
We drove across the Croatian border at about 3 o'clock and headed north to Niksik, the mountain town we'd picked as our destination. Looked wonderful on the internet.
We got lost and wound up driving up these increasingly poor roads, not much more than tracks really. We didn't have a compass and once we realised the roads we were on weren't on our map, we couldn't find our way back to the road that was on the map. We went back and forth for a couple of hours, initially not too concerned - it was a bit of an adventure, and the mountains and valleys were dramatic, stunning - but in the last hour we gradually realised that we hadn't seen another human being for a while, and the light was failing, and the roads were too treacherous to drive at night.
By dusk we had openly discussed the likelihood that we were going to spend the night in the car. I'd been to a top English boarding school - what in England we call a "Public School", although in fact they're Private and very expensive - and among other things, a place like that instills in you a confidence and resolve that comes in handy in situations like this. But Joan was clearly frightened. What about bears? What about freezing to death? What about bandits?
I did what I could to comfort her, and explain that we didn't really face any danger, just a little discomfort and a bit of an adventure. But she wasn't very reassured, poor Joan. That stiff-upper-lip attitude isn't something you can learn on the spur of the moment.
Once it was pitch black, a wind started to blow around the car, making it moan and then whistle. Just wind, but it rocked the car and emphasised how exposed we were, and the noises were quite spooky if that sort of thing bothers you. I'd stopped on an exposed bluff, in retrospect a mistake, but I didn't want to move the car at that point for fear of driving over one of the cliffs.
I was soothing Joan when suddenly she stiffened and said 'what's that?' and sat up straight. Over to one side of the car we could see a light. It was evident it was being carried by a human being, it swung and paused and turned. After watching it for a minute or two, it also became evident that it was heading for us.
And a few minutes later a large balding man of about 50 was standing beside the car holding his lantern up and inspecting it, then holding it to the window.
"Excellent!" I said to Joan. "Help has arrived."
And we both got out of the car.
When we did we could immediately see that it wasn't just one man, there were four of them, and all of them were armed.
"Good evening, gentlemen!" I greeted them. "We are so pleased to see you!"
The balding one said something in a language I didn't understand, and I had to admit, it didn't sound very friendly.
"Do any of you speak English?" I asked, shouting a little above the wind.
"Ptraww!" said one of the others, or something like that, and then the word "english" but pronounced more like "eengreetsch". And he spat noisily.
Joan's arm locked onto mine like a vice.
"Parlez-vous Francais?" I asked. I didn't speak a word of their own language, but I have fairly good French, German and Italian, and I was quite sure at least one of them would speak at least one of my languages.
But "Eengreetsch," he repeated. "Ee spik eengreetsch" and he moved forward so his face was illuminated in the other man's lamp.
"Ah, excellent, thank you for coming, we need ..."
"Wise you are on mine countries?". Not friendly. Joan's grip becomes almost unendurable.
"Your country? We are tourists. We got lost."
"Is mine countries" he repeated. "You not ..." he paused, apparently at a loss for words, then went on "Give me key" and held out his hand.
Joan was now cutting off the blood supply to my arm.
