A Bosnian catch-up

We've been to two cities since we were last able to do this, Dubrovnik and Split where we arrived this evening.

But firstly, thoughts about Sarajevo and Mostar:

The bus journey was fairly hellish, but the scenery was pleasant. We stopped half way through the journey to change buses. We weren't told to get off the bus and onto the other, even in Serbian/Bosnian, so we followed the crowd. There was time for a quick toilet break and instead of the usual signs on toilets to show which was ladies and gents, these had a crudely drawn high heeled shoe for the ladies and a flat for the gents. We eventually got to Sarajevo, or so we thought, when our bus whizzed straight through the city and ended up 5km out of town. We were unfortunate enough to meet horrid taxi drivers who charged us a small fortune for the 5km journey. Even then we were in the wrong place and upon our arrival in the main city, tired and weighed down with backpacks, the begging children started swarming. Luckily I found my teacher voice to be the perfect deterrent. We met an old, butch lady at the hostel office who sent us with our key and what appeared, on first impression alone, to be a madman. It seems we weren't wrong. He led us away from the bustling city we had glimpsed and up a dark and deserted hill leading towards a vast graveyard. This was the only time on our travels so far I have felt nervous about a new city, made all the worse by his seeming to not know where he was taking us and his frequent looking back at us and giggling to himself. We must have looked tired and annoyed, but I for one was starting to become increasingly worried. Eventually we turned off onto a little side road, just before the graveyard, and were led down some stone steps towards the sound of a loud and very close barking. The room itself, other than the lock getting often stuck, was fine. We woke late the next morning and had eggs for breakfast. Woop - protein!

Wandering through town we stumbled into Kevin who we had met in the hostel in Belgrade. We sat and had 40p coffee and 70p ice-cream. Leaving the centre of town and heading out towards the actual bus station we saw the best street performer ever: an old man, wearing lycra shorts and a vest, with a tape player dancing like a crazy fool, Napoleon Dynamite style. It was sweltering just standing in the sunshine and he was dancing in it! We appreciated his artistic flair and rewarded his efforts with our loose change. Had I had a video camera he'd have become an overnight sensation on YouTube.

The next morning we bussed it to Mostar. The scenery was, again, genuinely awesome. Mostar is not as pretty as Sarajevo, but it's actually fairly authentic, unlike the faux old city we had just left. The cobbled areas around the famous bridge are beautiful, though touristy, and have a North African feel about them. The views from the bridge are spectacular, the Neretva River so turquoise, that watching locals prepare for the 29m jump into the river below (common here, we are told), I was tempted to join them. The Mostarians are exceptionally proud of the bridge, though this means that all the other pretty things about the city get lost in the hype. The bridge is nice, but the rest of the city is nice too.

We were staying at a "hostel" that was in fact a lady's house which she shared with her mother. It was called Majda's Rooms and I would strongly recommend staying there if you ever find yourself in Mostar. We walked in the door and were shooed onto the balcony by Mama, who then thrust juice and cake at us. We were given maps, told where the best burek and ice-cream in town was and given books about Mostarian history to read while we drank. The house itself was a fairly small place, but so intimate and homely. We'd only been there half an hour when no fewer than 10 other people came bustling in after an "adventure day" organised by Majda's brother, Bata. The adventure sounded amazing: swimming in waterfalls, horse-riding, fortresses and so much more that we regretted only booking one night there. We saw Mostar as merely a stopover before reaching other more exciting places, but it was much more than that. Majda and Bata made our short time there really memorable with their welcoming attitudes, amazing knowledge and funness. One of my favourite memories is when Bata tried to explain about a new music craze called Turbo Folk, where traditional music is played but with more oomph, as I'm sure you can imagine from the title. He said there was no need to go to a club to experience Turbo Folk and proceeded to sing and dance around the small and very full front room, in a jolly world of his own.

Reading the guest book before we left, we found that everyone had had the same impressions of Majda and her family as we had, and that some people had even described their stay there as "life-changing". Though I couldn't honestly say that myself, I am very much looking forward to visiting Madja, Bata and Mama again in the future. We left Mostar knowing we'd be back again.