India 2001 books

Metalka at one o'clock, and we were on the real Montenegrin frontier.
There are two Metalkas, a Montenegrin and an Austrian, and they are
divided one from the other by a strip of land some ten yards across
which rips the village in two like the track of a little cyclone. Bogami
directed us to a shanty labelled "Hotel of Europe." A large woman was
blocking the door; we demanded food, she took no notice. Hunger was
clamouring within us. We demanded a second time. She waved her hand
majestically to her rival in Austria, at whose tables Montenegrin
officers were sitting with coffee.
An officer greeted us.
"We had expected you yesterday," he said.
We waved to the horses.
"No horses."
"That is a pity," he murmured. "You see, there was something to eat
yesterday!"
In spite of his pessimism we got eggs and wine. Bogami had a large
crowd, to whom he lectured, and we sent him out some eggs.
After lunch we pushed on, in conquered territory. To Chainitza they said
was one hour and a half, it proved nearer three.


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