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Published: December 3rd 2007
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Mostar
View from minaret We were offered tea/coffee when we got up and I foolishly accepted. I asked for black tea so she went to have a look. Steph watched as she brought the water to boil on the stove and then threw in a selection of herbs like a wicked witch. The tea (which came with biscuits) of course was not English tea nor was it even Indian tea, in fact it was quite yellow and tasted dreadful. Being polite, I drank it until she left the room and then I tipped it down the sink and had biscuits for breakfast.
From the hostel we walked to old town and the bridge on the way to the Mostar museum. On top of the bridge were the same lads from Dubrovnik and the night before. The museum took some finding as our map was next to useless again. The route did take us past a chilling reminder of the war; a large graveyard full of people who had died in '93 and the surrounding years.
Outside the museum, a building we had passed multiple times, stood an elderly gentleman who welcomed us in. The price to get in was the tiniest fraction of
Cathederal
extra tall clock tower to out do the minarets at the mosques the smallest note the cash machine had given us so he didn't have change and he let us in without paying. The museum itself was a small place with pictures of the town before the war and items of little interest like ladles and coins from years gone by but the gem of the museum was its video. The video spanned the life of the bridge since the invention of moving pictures. It showed old diving competitions in black and white, then more modern ones in colour, moving to aerial shots of the town and bridge. Then the music took a darker edge and it showed footage from the war; soldiers running through gunfire across the bridge, tires dangled over the bridge and covers to protect those on the bridge then it showed the explosions caught on camera which brought down the bridge and a view of the rubble being swept away. Then diving competitions commenced again from the remains of the bridge and the construction and subsequent completion was also shown. The video finished with an impressive fireworks display from on the bridge watched by many from both sides of the river.
We couldn't avoid paying so went
to the bank and quickly got some change to pay the museum. Afterwards we went into a local café with the aim of getting the advertised pita, unfortunately this was a crude translation of the local dish burek and so we had burek. Rounding off our meal with a delightfully sweet thing. We went to a mosque in which you could climb up the minaret. The view was amazing; the bridge, rolling hills, emerald green water and terracotta roof tiles all made it quite serene although very chilly. We stayed in the minaret as long as we could until we were finally ousted by another couple.
Mostar was a major battleground between Muslims and Croats with heavy casualties and serious damage done to the surrounding buildings. The front line, where both troops fought, goes straight through Mostar and has left it with a scar. We walked the length of it from near our hostel and old town all the way to parallel with the bus station we arrived at. The buildings along that stretch were either pock marked with bullet holes, patched up with plaster, empty hollow walls or newly rebuilt after being completely destroyed. The sight of all
the holes brought home reality of the fighting and the scale at which it took place. Towards the end of the front line was a school, teaching lessons as we passed it, that was full of bullet holes; a good way to make sure future generations never forget.
We continued across the river to the bus station and then walked down the other side of town. In an attempt to take a short cut we passed a crazy dog which jumped up behind its fence to try to get us. When we realised the short cut was a dead end we passed the dog a second time but pausing to take a quick snap. At the hostel our stuff had be gathered together at the entrance so we picked it up and walked back to the bus station.
Once in Sarajevo the weather had caught up with us again; freezing cold and snow everywhere. We slipped our way to the train station 50m away and went into the hostel's agency to give us a lift. Our guide took us past most of the highlights without the need of a detour; the infamous Holiday Inn, the famous bridges, houses
of worship for four different faiths and the Turkish quarter.
After not getting the promised double but a dorm room full of bunk beds and not having Internet and having to pay a lot for laundry we were feeling a bit forlorn although Sarajevo changed this. Sarajevo is a very welcoming city and provide a guide of the city, sights, cafes, restaurants etc all in English so we used this to pick our restaurant; Hacienda. It was a fabulous Mexican restaurant come night-club. The menu was varied and it was a pleasant atmosphere. We shared a bottle of Rosé and I had chicken in chocolate and chili sauce which was beautiful. After the meal we moved to the side of the room and took our time finishing off the bottle.
To get the Internet up-to-date with blogs and e-mails we called by an Internet café and spent an hour doing everything before returning to our private bunks. After a few brain sharpening sudoku we went to sleep ready for another day. We attempted to both share a top bunk (mum's recommendation) however the bunks weren't sturdy enough so we tried the bottom bunk instead. We had a giggle
and probably woke everyone in the next room but it wasn't comfortable enough to sleep.
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