Entering the frigid waters was a shock to my system, instantly invigorating yet slightly uncomfortable. Instead of gradually immersing myself, I leaped off the boat into the stunningly clear blue water, which enveloped me like an aquatic embrace. I glanced back to see my brother and others either diving in dramatically or cautiously testing the waters with their hands and feet.

Next came the startling realization of the water's exceptionally high salt content, which tingled against my skin and hair. This sensation jolted me from an odd state of contemplation I often find myself in, filled with existential musings. Suddenly, I was fully present, soaking in the joy of the moment.

This was the saltiest water I had ever encountered, surpassing any other part of the Adriatic Sea I had previously visited.

Although the Adriatic is not known as one of the saltiest seas globally, the salt concentration can vary significantly depending on local freshwater influx and rainfall. Less freshwater translates to saltier waters.

Factors like solar energy and weather patterns play crucial roles; hot temperatures increase evaporation, leaving behind salt. Given Montenegro's dry and hot climate in the weeks leading up to my visit, the saltiness of the water was no surprise.

Despite my fascinating thoughts, I was not analyzing deeply in that moment. The dual shock of cold and salt was oddly reminiscent of old-fashioned, homemade ice cream, and everything felt dreamlike, almost as if I were observing myself from a distance.

We had departed from Kotor in Boka Bay around 9 am, embarking on one of Montenegro's most popular excursions—the Blue Cave tour. Energetic young locals hustle at the docks, eager to sell this experience. My brother had secured our spot days earlier from a sweet, shy girl who didn't push us into buying.

Our youthful captain, Andrea, who also served as our guide, helped us find seats at the front of the boat, where a quiet family of four and an older couple sat. The two teenage boys from the family seemed particularly discontent during the journey, leaving me to wonder if they might have preferred a different adventure.

Still, it was hard to imagine anyone not enjoying the thrill of what lay ahead. Endless stretches of majestic blue water unfolded before us, bordered by rocky peaks. The white foam trailing behind our boat was mesmerizing, and the choppy waters reminded me of my wise choice to take Dramamine beforehand.

With the sun's glare unyielding, I was grateful for my high SPF sunscreen and sunglasses as I savored the beauty around me—trees, homes, businesses, small islands, and historical structures in various stages of restoration.

One significant landmark was Lastavica/Mamula, home to a fortress built in 1853 by an Austrian general. It later became a concentration camp during World War II, where inmates faced unspeakable cruelty. Today, the fortress has been transformed into a luxury hotel, sparking controversy among locals.

As we approached the blue caves, the atmosphere changed; the water calmed, and a hush fell over everyone, as if we were all entranced by the beauty surrounding us.

Andrea skillfully guided us through the cave before anchoring a few hundred meters away. We were given the option to swim into the cave and back, a challenge I was eager to accept at age 50, despite not being in peak shape. However, it wasn’t explicitly stated that strong swimming skills were essential. As I swam, I realized my feet never touched the sea floor, even though the clarity made it seem within reach—a true optical illusion.

The water was mostly calm, with only gentle currents. Yet, I noticed I was the only one from our group of nearly fifty who decided to swim all the way. As I swam away from the boat, I could feel the eyes of my brother and others watching me, their concern evident.

Were they worried about sea creatures or some mythical monster? I couldn't let that distract me; the cave beckoned. As I reached its entrance, darkness enveloped me. I lost all sense of sight but could still feel the cool water and hear the faint sounds of the cave. Suddenly, something brushed against my skin, but instead of panic, I found an unusual sense of calm.

I had made it. But now, I needed to return to the light. As I swam back, I noticed other swimmers heading toward me, passing by as I exited the cave.

Climbing back into the boat, even Andrea regarded me with a mix of awe and curiosity. Questions flowed in: "Were there bats?" "Was it dark?" "Did you see anything?" "That water is incredibly salty, isn't it?"

Indeed, I felt cleaner than ever but had no fear of bats.

On our return to Kotor, we passed through impressive submarine tunnels used during World War II to conceal submarines and stopped at Our Lady of Rocks, where a charming old church and ice cream awaited—a much-needed treat on that hot day. Unfortunately, this stop was the most touristy part of our journey, packed with visitors.

Despite its touristy elements, I wholeheartedly recommend the Blue Cave tour in Montenegro. It's an unforgettable experience, and if you're brave enough to swim in the cave, it's worth every moment.

This adventure responds to the Globetrotters monthly challenge presented by Anne Bonfert: August Monthly Challenge — The Color Blue.

I also enjoyed Claire Elizabeth Levesque's exploration of blue sights in London, a city I am currently discovering, and Tara Torres's reflections on life's ebb and flow in Washington's bay.