Day 16 – A visit to Mostar (Sunday 28th April 2024)

A couple of hours south-west of Sarajevo is the town of Mostar. This is our excursion for the day. Immediately after breakfast we boarded our bus for the journey there. Out of Sarajevo we were greeted by a new freeway which made the first part of the drive very easy and quick. Numerous very long tunnels took us straight through the surrounding mountains rather than around them, which would have made for a very long day.

When the freeway inevitably ended we were back on the normal “state highway”, as it were. In the town of Konjic, on the Neretva river, we stopped at a roadside cafe gave us the chance to stretch the legs, powder the nose and get a caffeine fix.

Sitting out on their back deck overlooking the confluence of a little creek and the river with the sun shining down from a blue sky against the backdrop of a steep green hillside provided a very welcome break from the winding mountain road for our group and, no doubt, the driver. The mountain scenery is very pretty as the road winds its way along the glacier-blue Neretva river for a lot of the journey. Snow-capped mountains loomed in the near distance.

Just a few blocks away from the coffee stop we turned off the main road down a small lane which came to a dead end where three non-descript, white, two-storey houses were sitting right up against a sheer rock-face. Each of the houses were just a front for entrances into an elaborate network of tunnels and rooms big and small which served as the nuclear fallout shelter of the Yugoslavia dictator Marshall Josef Tito. Tito, the self-declared “President for Life” built this facility largely with American money, money that was meant to go to the Yugoslav people as aid to help them recover from WWII. Costing US$4 billion to build over 27 years and finally completed in 1979, less than a year before Tito’s death, in 2024 monetary terms it would cost US$40 billion – and opposition political parties complain all too readily these days about the cost of building a tunnel or two to facilitate a better transport network for the future. Tito’s bunker extends 250m into the mountain and, at its deepest point is 280m below ground. Everything you can imagine to sustain the lives of Tito and 350 of his closest friends for six months is under the ground – power generators, telecommunications, huge diesel tanks, water storage reservoirs, sleeping quarters, conference rooms and the list goes on and on. Of course, the bunker was never used but was maintained for a number of years. None of it was ever upgraded so as a nuclear shelter it’s completely useless. It’s actually quite a time capsule of the 60’s and 70’s. It doubles as a contemporary art gallery, which is kind of in keeping with the weirdness of the place.

 

 

The construction of the facility was a closely guarded secret. It was being built right under the noses of the people of the nearby town (for 27 years) and they didn’t know, helped a little by the fact that a military munitions factory was located nearby. Not until 2000 did its existence became public knowledge. Of course the Americans knew where the “aid money” was going but turned a blind eye hoping to curry favour with Tito who, although a Communist, had a very poor relationship with the Soviet Union – which was just the way the Yanks liked it.

 

For lunch we stopped at cafe on the highway that sold Borek - a local dish of rolled, flaky pastry filled with meat, spinach or cheese - sort a like the Greek Spanikopita. From here we travelled another hour or so to the town of Mostar. A much bigger town than I has imagined – a city, really. All the tourist flock to the old town, as we did, and the famous bridge across the Neretva river. This is the bridge where the young men of the city launch themselves from the top of the bridge into the freezing cold waters of the river some 20m below. The day was quite hot by the time we arrived mid-afternoon so it was shorts and tee-shirt weather only. A big crowd made its way down to the bridge past countless stalls selling the usual crappy souvenirs, bars, restaurants and ice-cream vendors. The bridge was crowded and uncomfortably close. Some young chaps jumped when they’d relieved a sufficient number of tourists of their hard-earned. The bridge is very difficult to walk upon as are the streets leading to it with the former being quite steep and made of what looked like marble blocks and the later being laid with smooth round river rocks. Both were polished and very slippery due to the millions of tourist feet at have walked them for a long time.

The group watched a Bosnian coffee making ceremony which was not particularly exciting or interesting then went it’s separate ways. Some of the girls and Dennis went to brave the freezing waters of the river for a swim at a little beach while Kerry and I killed a couple of hours browsing in shops, drinking coffee and eating ice-cream. At one of those stops I managed to get a second postcard off to Mum. By 6:00pm all the “lost sheep” had come home and we started the 2-hour journey back to Sarajevo.

Day 15 – Belgrade to Sarajevo (Saturday 27th April 2024)

A long day in the saddle today. At about 9:00am our bus headed out of Belgrade bound for Sarajevo in Bosnia and Herzegovina to the south-west. The road was flat and straight for the morning with the mountains of Bosnia and Herzegovina looming larger and larger as the bus drove onward. Shortly after a refreshment break at a service station, where we were joined by a busload of secondary school students, we reached the Serbia/Bosnia and Herzegovina border control. With a couple of big buses and many private cars in front of us in the queue a brief discussion between our driver and Ivana ensued. A quick decision was made that we would head for another crossing further along the Drina river, which marks the border between the two countries. Thirty minutes later we arrived at the border control first in the queue! Great call!

 

 

Over the border the winding, mountainous road began almost immediately. Little farms and villages gave way to heavily forested, green hillsides. Creeks, rivers and lakes bound to hold trout passed us by with Dennis (a fellow trout fisherman from northern Michigan) and me unable to do anything about it. The sky was blue and the sun was shining making the wonderful scenery that continued to unfold before our eyes even more spectacular.

By mid-afternoon we had arrived at the Hotel Sahat in the heart of the old town, right by the Miljacka river and the Latin Bridge. At 5:00pm our guide, Amed, met us at the hotel for a two hour tour of the town. The first port of call was no more than 50m from the hotel. It was here on 28^th June 1914 on Obala Kulina bana where a nineteen year old Bosnian Serb student named Gavrilo Princip assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and his wife Sophie. Princip and five other students were co-opted by the Serbian terrorist group Black Hand to achieve their objective of disrupting the rule of the Austro-Hungarian empire in an effort to form a south Slavic nation which would eventually come into existence and be known as Yugoslavia. In response to the assassination of the heir to the throne the Empire declared war on Serbia and WWI ensued. It’s a very interesting story.

 

From here we toured all the important old town places, including the Town Hall from where Franz Ferdinand commenced his fatal journey that day. Bosnia and Herzegovina is a mostly Muslim country with about 65% of the population following the faith. The majority of the other beliefs are Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox and Judaism. Sarajevo and Bosnia and Herzegovina people are very proud of their religious and cultural tolerance. Indeed, it’s much more than just tolerance with the people actively working hand-in-hand with anyone and everyone to achieve peace and harmony in the land. Amed described numerous occasions when Muslims and Jews or Jews, Catholics and Muslims worked together to achieve an outcome that was good for the nation. Although firmly in the minority, the citizen of Sarajevo have elected a Mayor who is Jewish and female! Muslims and Jews worked togetehr to ensure that an important and rare Jewish manuscript did not fall into the hands of the enemy forces during the Siege of Sarajevo. The Muslims of the nation live the Islam faith in a very different way to other Islamic nations. To use Amed’s words, “we’re very chilled about how believers practice the faith”. Unlike the stricter interpretation of the rules some other nations enforce, if a woman wants to wear a Hijab then that’s OK. If she does not then that’s OK too. Women are not precluded from perusing anything they wish to in their lives. Many nations could take a good, long, hard look at how the people of Bosnia and Herzegovina live in harmony with others in a mixed religious, ethnic and cultural setting and learn a valuable lesson or two.

 

Our tour finished at the Roman Catholic cathedral where a photo with Amed was taken and we headed off to a restaurant in the Muslim quarter of town for dinner. There we sat on low stools around a low table out on the street and thoroughly enjoyed Bosnian stews, soups, dumplings and breads before returning to the hotel and bed after a long day, but not before a load of hand-washing was done.

Day 14 – A visit to Zemun (Friday 26th April 2024)

We’ve got the whole day to explore Belgrade at our leisure today. Ivana proposed a visit to the village of Zemun on the banks of the Danube, just across the Sava river from downtown Belgrade. Our first experience on the Belgrade public transport system was about to begin. With our all-day transport passes in hand, kindly provided by Ivana, we set off on a bus for Zemun. Belgrade is the only large European city to not have a Metro. The locals rely upon trams and electric buses, drawing their power from overhead wires just like the tram does, to get them around their city. The ticket was cheap – 190 Dinar ($AUD2.50). There are plenty of trams and buses trundling up and down the streets on a regular schedule. Some of the trams are very new while an equal number are very old having been donated by the Swiss people when they refreshed their own network many years ago. Electric buses are the go in Budapest too, by the way.

Zemun is not actually a separate little town, more-so an enclave within Belgrade. The charm of this place is its quiet, little cobble-stoned streets, its central market square, its hilltop fortress dominated by a 50m high tower and its open air cafes down on the banks of the Danube.

 

 

After the climb up the tower for a wonderfully panoramic view of Belgrade across the Danube the group wandered down to a water-front cafe for a much needed coffee. The poor chap waiting on the tables was inundated and overwhelmed a when our group of fifteen descended upon his lovely little shaded terrace. He did a great job getting everyone’s coffees organised in a timely fashion and expressed his appreciation for our custom. By now it was a fabulous, blue-sky day, the cold weather clothes were gone and the short-sleeves and hats were getting an airing for the first time. Bewdiful!! Our gallant waiter was still recovering from our coffee onslaught when it was time for us to move on. It quickly became apparent to Ivana that the poor chap would nit be able to cope with preparing, dispatching and receiving payment for multiple separate bills so she stepped in to save his day and paid all the bills on our behalf. What a angel!

One hundred metres down the promenade we made our next stop at a restaurant for lunch. We were the only patrons but soon filled the place with lots of chat and laughter. The food was good, the wine was good and the company was excellent. Today was a special day – it was Dennis’ birthday. After we’d all finished our meals the waiter appeared with a little cake and candle next to Dennis who, unbeknown to him, had been placed at the head of the table when all sat down for lunch. We sang arousing rendition of “Happy Birthday” before tucking into a selection of little cakes and slices that had been placed on the table. Organised by Polly, I think! Very yummy cakes, indeed. Everyone got into the spirit of the occasion and set aside any crazy ideas about diet and “healthy eating”. Sometimes “healthy eating” means eating for the health of the soul!

A magnificent lunch done, we assembled back on the promenade. Some were keen to walk it off so headed off along the river back to town – a walk of about 90 minutes. The rest of us had some places we wished to visit back in the city so elected to catch the bus. I must make an observation on the skyline of Belgrade at this juncture. The city has a bit of a mish-mash of architectural styles – some well preserved 19^th century buildings, some not so well preserved, some 1960-70 abominations, and a small handful of skyscraper scattered here and there. Also dotted throughout the streets are literally half-destroyed multi-storey buildings, apparently the victims of terror attacks and the like in previous decades allowed to stand there half falling down with no intention of letting a wrecking ball finish the job. But the buildings that take the prize are the horrible, grey, twenty-five storey communist-era housing blocks that letter the skyline. Belgrade is not a city of tall buildings so these monstrosities are made even more apparent.

 

Our bus came, we boarded made our way a few kilometres along the road back to the city…. and stopped. Into a huge traffic jam we had landed. Being in public transport didn’t help as we had to share the road with the cars. No bus lanes here! Ivana took an Executive Decision and we all jumped off and began the long walk back to the hotel, along with hundreds of other frustrated passengers who had to be somewhere else already. It’s actually always fun to walk through cities in this manner, far away from the well-worn tourist paths. I reckon you get something of a sense of “real life” in the city. After we’d crossed the green steel arch bridge (like a mini Sydney Harbour Bridge) the traffic congestion eased so we took a bus again for the next couple of stops – minus the Birthday Boy. In his eagerness to get home Dennis had prematurely boarded the wrong bus! But he was misplaced for only a short while as he had quickly realised his predicament and got off at the next stop.

Kerry, Mel and I were keen to visit the little museum honoring the life of the great Serbian inventor, Nikola Tesla, the man who discovered alternating current, just a couple of blocks from the hotel. It’s a very small museum with original artefacts from his life and some items which were created by others as a direct results of his inventiveness. Quite a remarkable man and quite fitting that his name be at the forefront of the world’s shift to full electrification. If you can believe the story related to us during the presentation, Tesla foresaw mankind’s insatiable hunger for more power and spent the latter years of his life advocating for the sensible and judicial use of it.

As the day was drawing to a close and the city was beginning to light up (thanks Nikola!!) we walked over to the splendid St, Sava Orthodox Church. A massive and magnificent building standing on a high-point overlooking the old town. The interior is just too beautiful to describe. Hopefully the pictures will do some sort of justice to the masterpiece created by the countless artisans who built her.

We strolled home past the wonderfully lit fountain in the centre of Belgrade’s Slavija Square, a huge roundabout that would rival the roundabout upon which the Arc de Triomphe sits for size. Night had now fallen so we grabbed Rob and sat out in the street in a nearby bar for a well earned beer.