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I know it’s wonderful to keep in touch and let you know how I am. I love to do it too. But sometimes, just sometimes, it borders on hard work and not much like a holiday. Typing is typing no matter that it’s project related or personal – it takes time and effort and well, sometimes gets in the way of fun. Or rather, sleep. I’d like to sleep just now but here goes…
I’ve made it to Mostar and along the way have had some interesting adventures and seen amazing sights. The bike chugs along. She’s a little petulant (it’s not me it’s her!). She doesn’t always listen to what I tell her and she is never, ever quiet. She makes noises when she ought not to and at times disagrees totally with what I tell her. Her name is Dragana. I really hope she’ll make the distance.
Anyway, the road out of Sarajevo was the same as that coming in - long, drawn out and on the ‘freeway’. Obviously I’m not the number one target for police as they didn’t even bat an eyelid when I rode past. And no honks from cars to get me off
What a view! The Prenj mountains (?)
Just before entering (another) tunnel the road. In that regard it was all quite agreeable. However, there have been some difficulties with the panniers. The rack doesn’t allow for them to really fit in place as well as I would like. So, should I go over a slightly bigger than normal bump (!) it inevitably ‘pops’ out. Grrrrr. At the end of the day I had to undo my whole set-up 5 times - time consuming and annoying to say the least. And, on top of that, I have so much strapped on with my occy straps that I inevitably miss something. This time (let’s hope it’s the last time) it was my neck warmer. Darn it. It was coming in handy in these cold mornings. Lucky I have a scarf.
But as me and Dragana got out of Sarajevo and hit the E17 proper, the sights got better and the ride way more enjoyable. The road climbed steadily that’s for sure especially out of Pazaric. And I saw 5 cyclists heading in the opposite direction (it’s the only time you see other cyclists – when they’re heading in the opposite direction). I found out how lucky I was to have escaped a 9%
gradient climb coming down into Konjic. Those poor buggers. But lucky me – this time at least. I know my future holds these gradients and then some. Nothing comes for free.
It was a terrific downhill but so steep for this poor truck that I, and many cars, were stuck behind. My speedo read 14km/h. Really, even I go faster than that on a downhill. But it was more time to soak in the spectacular views. Mountain high, valley below, sunny sky. Lucky, lucky, lucky and I know it.
When I got to Konjic I was absolutely gobsmacked by the colour of the water. At this point I wish I was a creative writer so I can describe it in vivid detail. I’m not so believe me when I say the Neretva River is the most luscious teal colour. When I googled colour for the Neretva most of the results describe it as emerald. To me it was teal with a fair bit of white mixed in. What colour is that? Anyway, the road provided a wonderful viewing platform of the lake that the Neretva flowed into and the hills behind. So very picturesque.
That evening I
Konjic
And its lovely Ottoman bridge spent the night on the lake in a cabin at Kamp Neta in Ostrozac, not far from Jablanica. What a beautiful setting. I had the place totally to myself although I had been told that in two weeks time it would be heaving. Lucky again.
I will let the pictures speak for themselves for what I saw the next day – my descriptions really don’t do them justice. But apart from the scenery, this day involved a lot of tunnel travel too. There in the darkness with only the thunder of oncoming cars, or worse, the ones coming behind, to keep me company. I’ve learned that here they only seem to signpost the length of the tunnels when they’re just a few meters and you can see the light at the end of them before you even start. It’s the longer, km ones that aren’t really signposted. Or were they and I just wasn’t looking? Either way, they’re best over and done with quickly and without sunglasses on (as I learned), preferably going down.
It’s also interesting the people you meet in the parking places. I met some roadworkers and their road engineer boss who I was able
to thank personally for a job well done (it really was a great road) and chat at length with about life and family (his not mine). All this whilst holding my breath because parking areas are invariably used as toilets and so not the most savoury of smelling places. Gasp. I also stopped at another parking place because I saw a man taking a selfie. Is it wrong for me to ask to take the photo instead? Personally I can’t understand why anyone would want to take a selfie when you can ask someone to take it for you (or have them offer). Anyway, he thought I wanted a photo taken of me. So, I didn’t end up taking his photo but he took mine. As it turned out we spoke in some weird English/Bosnian for quite some time and have made arrangements to meet tomorrow to see the Kravica waterfalls which I was assured (by others too) that I MUST see. OK. I hear you.
You will be happy to know that I declined the lift to Mostar. Honestly, the scenery was simply too beautiful to experience from a car. I was proud of myself. Even when it
Home for the Night
At Kamp Neta bungalows. Just me and the frogs. started raining some 7km out of Mostar. I still didn’t think that I should have accepted. Ah, the Baltics and all that rain in 2011 prepared me to toughen it out. There’s a reason for everything.
As I’m typing I hear the call to prayer. I am now in Mostar and what a wonderful little city this is. It is still recovering from the war, the scars of which, like Sarajevo can still be seen and may take quite some time more to heal. But, it does have an energy of moving forward. Tourists have, for sure, rediscovered this place. They are everywhere and it’s not really prime tourist season yet. There are a lot of beggars too. I guess it’s a relationship of sorts.
In Mostar I’ve been fortunate to stay at the very comfortable Pansion Most run by the incredibly friendly and ever so accommodating Emina. It wasn’t my first choice but it was wet, I was tired (and lost!) and it was in the guidebook. Clean, neat and everything at my doorstep. Can’t ask for more than that and I certainly don’t regret a little bit of luxury. But Emina really came into her own
The Bunglows from the Outside
Washing still needs to be done! when this morning I asked her if she could help me to find friends of a friend of mine – or at least the direction to find these friends. All I had were the names and what I thought was an address (have since found out it was the skype name ; ). And, Emina did not give up. She used everything available to her, made calls, and asked questions until these people were found. Well done Emina!
So it was that today I met my friend’s ‘Bosnian mother’ and her family, people that had become like her own family whilst she lived and worked here. Thank you to everyone who made this happen. How small this world really is. And technology, I guess I have to thank you too. If I must.
Tomorrow I’m heading direction Trebinje after a minor detour to Medugorje, the waterfalls, Pocitelj (artist colony) and Stolac (to see the famous steccis). I’ll get there when I get there.
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Pie
non-member comment
Amazing
Hi Bernii, those photos are amazing. I love reading your blog - have I already said that you are messing with my life and making me feel very discontent with my lot! The colours of the rivers are incredible - in France I called them 'liquid celadon' and I think that might be the best name for that tealy whitish sort of colour. Its caused by rock flour - tiny suspended fragments of glacial rock ground to a powder. Boring boring boring here. Love Pie x