MOSTAR AND ON THE ROAD, BOSNIA.

On the way to Mostar from Bosnia I got pulled over police when they caught me speeding up to 30kms over the limit to over take a truck, it was also on a bridge when I over took the truck and this is also illegal. The police man was about to take my passport random and send me to the local police station at Mostar still some 45kms away, pay the fine and come back to their hiding spot to retrieve my passport. When he saw my passport his staunch faced turned and he bursted out with laughter calling over his colleague both pointing and laughing at the Australian emblem on the front which features a kangaroo. He threw the passport back at me while laughing and motioned to me not to bounce over any more cars and yelled ay me a little more ins Bosnian. Mostar was a cool little town! With Hitler memorabilia and many photos of Tito around for sale. Just before we arrived in Mostar we stopped for a toilet break at a sketchy roadside gas station and next to it was this old house that got completely shot up in the war. 

BOSNIA

After a quick stack and swim we jetted over the bridge into Bosnia and immediately the repercussions of the war were evident; many building scarred with bullet holes, some houses completely blown apart only fit for the sheep to sleep in now. Bosnia & Herzegovina has a huge muslim population, as we drove through the sleepy towns the woman went about their afternoon chores as the men gathered in groups possibly talking about the days work. 

Sarajevo is a really charming city and we could have also stayed there a lot longer, but we had to get down south to meet up with my sister and Pete. We took a night time walk around exploring and really enjoying this little city. I was really blown away by the amount of bullet holes in the buildings, literally every second building had been shelled with bullets during the war and the holes still remain as a sad reminder today. 

ON THE ROAD TO SARAJEVO, BOSNIA.

We woke up with private lake views and the warm summer sky enticed me into taking a little hike, I heard some guys doing some logging up in the forrest so I decided to go say hello to my fellow tree workers. To get up to where the guys were it was a really steep ascent on crumbly gravel rock, so on many occasions I was sliding further down then climbing. When I arrived the guys yelled out violently at me shouting something in Serbian and began to run at me, rather then getting ripped apart by this bear of a human I basically slid down the mountain on my back and at the end had to jump of a little cliff to a tree and climb down it. Mental note, dont fuck with Serbian loggers. 

We sadly said our goodbyes to the lake spot, we could have spent the rest of our time there and left Serbia content, but Sarajevo, Bosnia was in our sights. Although the distances are not so far in the Balkans the roads are extremely long and slow as u weave your way around and over mountains instead of taking tunnels straight through in the West of Europe. But in doing this the scenery and drives are very entertaining until u nearly get wiped out by a head on truck over taking a bus on a blind corner. We followed a river which marks the border for a long time anticipating what Bosnia was going to be like as it was in our sights just on the other side or the river. As we continued for what felt like hours the two sides looked identical, romantic little riverside cottages with veggie patches and maybe a few goats and cows and it was a depressing to think of the blood shed that took place in recent years between to two countries.

                                      

SERBIAN COUNTRYSIDE.

When we woke after a couple rough nights at Guca with the trumpet still blasting over over sleepy heads we decided to head out into some deep nature for some solitude! The Zaovine lake would be our Guca recovery spot. We followed the road around the lake for awhile and then decided to try cut down a little dirt road to get closer for a swim and find a place to camp. We found our perfect spot and the farmer whose land it was came down to greet us. I had been studying a little phrase book before he arrived so I was able to practice my Serbian which failed miserably. The farmer shared melon with us and seemed proud to have visitors on his land and even allowed us to have a fire and pointed me in the direction of some fire wood.