Coasting

Here are a bunch of photos from a day spent moseying down from Mostar on our way to the Croatian coast. Turkish coffee, pomegranates, the amazing village of Pocitelj, caterpillar road traffic..

 

Mostar

We spent a night in Mostar after a cold ride then great luck lift in a truck from Sarejevo. The old town has been beautifully restored since the destruction of the Bosnian war. The wonderful bridge is the well known symbol of the restoration but the surrounding alleys and waterways are just as lovely. Lots of cafes and restaurants and pretty touristy but not too crowded when we were there.

The gallery next to the bridge had pictures and a short doco on the war and restoration. It was shocking to see the destruction in the town's so recent past. There are still lots of ruined buildings and sniper roosts with scattered shell casings. Quite chilling and again so different to the laid back feel of the town now. 

We stayed in a B&B run by a local couple who spoke english. Chatting to the husband as we arrived  his measured  manner changed when we let him know we were from Melbourne. "You're fucking kidding mate, I was in Port Arlington!" His voice changing to a thick Aussie drawl speckled with slang. They had moved to Australia to escape the danger of the 90's conflict and had returned recently, leaving their grown kids still back in Melbourne studying. It was comforting and funny to hear the roughness of an Aussie accent again.

Equally comforting was a dose of kitsch TV in English = we caught an awesome 1960's sword and sandal film in the mode of  Jason and the Argonauts on the box. Great way to prepare for our next epic saga on the Adriatic sea. I bags being Hercules!

Riding in Bosnia

We were peddling our way from Sarajevo to Mostar one hilly, rainy, cold day when a guardian angel of a truck driver asked where we were headed and enthusiastically suggested we put our bikes on the back of his truck and get a ride with him to Mostar. He only spoke a little English and also some German but was delightfully friendly and jovial. Cold, wet and struggling, we couldn't believe our good luck and spent a happy hour or so roaring along in his truck with his friend, all of us munching on a bag of yummy figs. The truck driver told us something that we feel we are hearing from many people in this part of the world. He explained it this way: "Here, the people - very good. Muslims? Very good. Christians? Very good. Jews? Very good. Politics? Psssshh!!! Scheisse!!" (shit in German) He explained that he was Muslim, his friend/partner/wife (we were not sure) travelling with him in the truck was Christian, and declared "no problem!" and planted a playful kiss on her cheek as she wriggled away.

      

                                                                                                 Low cut gumboots!

The light at the end of the tunnel is a truck

From the time we crossed back into Serbia from Romania to Mostar in Bosnia we have had to deal with Tunnels. They started off like a bit of a novelty along the Danube but as we entered Bosnia at Visegrad and headed to Sarajevo they became pretty hairy and exhausting.
The vast majority are not lit at all and can be long enough that they are pitch black inside. A series of twenty or so tunnels met us after Visegrad varing in length from 50 to 700m or so. There are quite a few heavy trucks using the road in this section that inside the tunnel sound like the death star looming up behind you. We wore reflective vests and had head torches facing back so we could be seen but it still was extremely nerve wracking. We also used a hand held torch to see the road ahead. We rode into one tunnel without our torches and found we couldnt balance on the bikes properly without something to orientate ourselves with visually. We were riding crookedly and nearly falling over and scraping the side wall. Scary! However, once we whipped out our  light and directed at the line on the side it was smooth sailing.

Bosnian cafes

Sarajevo

Sarajevo was charming from the start. It was much prettier than either of us had anticipated, with the winding narrow cobbled streets of the old town and big, peaceful mosques and churches scattered throughout. As usual in this part of the world, there are plenty of cafes and you are welcome to sit outside them all day without being hurried along like you would expect at home (after three hours nursing the same coffee). We loved the haunting and beautiful Islamic call to prayer which sounds out from the mosques five times a day. Sometimes you can hear the mingling of calls from different mosques so that the sound seems to echo across the city. The city feels culturally and spiritually rich, with a real sense of religious harmony. The people are stylish, and there is no shortage of dapper old men, cool haircuts and gorgeous headscarves. We didn't want to think about the war there because it felt so peaceful on the streets, and the restoration of the centre has clearly been so intensive, that it was heartbreaking to imagine the very different reality of the 90s.

 

 

Cycling through the mountains on our way to Sarajevo, we noticed that Matthew had broken a spoke on his rear wheel. Although we carry spare spokes, we couldn't replace this one as it was on the side requiring a special (heavy) tool to remove the cassette. We tightened the spokes on either side and hoped to make it to a bike shop in Sarajevo without too much rim damage. In Sarajevo, we asked about bicycle repair at the info centre and were given the address of a bike hire shop in town. We now feel grateful for this broken spoke because the guys at the shop turned out to be great and we ended up spending a lot of our time in Sarajevo hanging out with them. As well as Amin and Bojan (who run the shop) there was another cycle tourist called Greg from California who had also recently arrived in Sarajevo. We sat and had a yarn before heading out for some traditional Bosnian food with them. That night, Bojan led the way as we went out for a drink at a great place which used to be a cinema and has now been converted into a bar/playhouse/venue.

Matthew, Greg & Bojan

With Amin outside the shop

On our second and last evening in Sarajevo, Bojan took us on a guided tour of the city at dusk which culminated with a beautiful view at the top of a steep climb looking out over the city.

Greg, Matthew, Bojan and George (a London expat)

Bosnian Hills

Our journey from Visegrad to Sarajevo included scary tunnels, steep climbs, and lovely animals. One of these animals was a big white sheepdog who decided to sit with us while we had lunch. A farmer went past on his tractor and waved to us then saw our dog friend and laughed - we think maybe he was her owner.

We camped not too far out of Sarajevo and woke to hear nearby bell-clanging which we thought probably belonged to a sheep or goat. As we were leaving, we saw through the mist that it was not sheep or goats but two beautiful, friendly horses! (Matthew: "oh look it's cows!" - admittedly it was quite foggy but this was still funny enough to give me the giggles)

The ride into Sarajevo turned out to be really easy (for a city). We road in on a not-too-busy highway (made less busy by current roadworks which also slowed traffic down to a friendly passing pace) and basically popped out right in the middle of the old town where we tied up our steeds in the lovely old town square. Sarajevo is so pretty! There are graceful, dreamy hills surrounding the city so that it feels nestled into the land. We shuddered to learn these hills were filled with snipers during the 1992-1996 siege of Sarajevo. As usual we felt overwhelmed trying to reconcile this lovely part of the world with it's awful recent history. But more on Sarajevo next post..

One last thing, we'd like to return a "blog shout-out" to our friend Alasdair from Glasgow who is currently travelling in India. He is keeping a very honest and entertaining blog at www.alasdaircowie.com which we try to keep up with from the road - happy reading!