Hrid

My next plan was to head for Mostar in Bosnia-Hercegovina. There being no train route from Dubrovnik, I had to take the bus. I hadn’t tried Flixbus before and had read varying reports about the service provided. The journey didn’t get off to the best of starts when the bus failed to appear for an hour after the scheduled departure. The large number of passengers waiting to board were a motley crew of students backpackers, ageing hippies and a few Oxbridge types having a ‘gap yah’. All enquiries about the bus directed to the large, disinterested woman seated behind a heavy metal grill eating a huge bag of satsumas were met with the same response: ‘Ee’s comming, ee’s comming!’.

After a while I asked two friendly Japanese girls to mind my bag while I went in search of some refreshments for the 3.25 hour journey. As luck would have it, I was delayed in the shop with a customer arguing over the price of soap powder, and when I emerged the bus had arrived with everyone piling on. My Japanese friends had very kindly kept me a place and somehow everyone managed to get on board. I have to say that the bus did not resemble the one portrayed on the Flixbus website. It was a vehicle nearing the end of its useful service, possibly due to be put out to pasture and just doing occasional Sunday School trips (if they have such a thing). I know it has been very hot here and there is possibly a water shortage, but a run-through a car / bus wash wouldn’t have gone amiss. I was fortunate in getting a window seat on the side of the bus you could actually see out of! Some of the seats were in a permanently lean-back position, thus squashing the knees of the person behind. Thankfully I’m quite wee!

Given the bus was packed, I was again fortunate in my travelling companion. Ersan Musa was a friendly young man from Paris who worked as a graphic designer, and had been involved in some big budget movies. I asked if he had met any famous stars, and he proudly displayed a photo on his phone. Yes, it was certainly Johnny Depp, but all I could see of Ersan was the top of his head, the rest of him being completely concealed by his fellow crew members. ‘It’s my favourite photo’ he declared proudly, laughing his head off. I fairly shut him up when I displayed my image of Nicole Kidman and I.

Everyone on the bus had to get off and line up for a passport check at the border crossing as we left Croatia and entered Bosnia-Hercegovina. We were further delayed when police and fire engines blocked the road to deal with extensive forest fires. We could see the flames licking the bushes at the roadside. Eventually the bus limped into Mostar almost 2 hours late. There were no eating establishments near the bus station so my friend and I had little option but to sit-in at a late night bakery and dine on what the baker’s wife described as a ‘delicious snack’. This resembled a flattened Forfar Bridie, but with pastry that would challenge your dentures and a lot less meat. All washed down with a carton of runny, zero fat natural yoghurt. ‘Don’t you agree - delicious?’ she demanded. ‘Hmmm’ I said smiling, giving her a half-hearted thumbs up. Needless to say I was up all night with heartburn!

Ersan and I departed to our separate hotels. I was in the 4 star Hotel Mostar - a lovely modern hotel and a big room with twin beds which, complete with breakfast, cost only £41.

The next morning I set off to explore Mostar. It is a pretty town, nestled between the hills, but it’s beauty still bears the scars of the war of the early 1990’s. Derelict buildings and bullet holes are still visible. By the end of the conflict, Mostar was described as resembling Dresden at the end of WW2. Numerous buildings and most of the mosques were destroyed, and 2000 people lost their lives. I remember listening to news bulletins at the time describing the war in Bosnia, and it doesn’t seem that long ago.

The star attraction by far is the Stari Most - the Old Bridge, where thousands gather daily hoping to catch a glimpse of a diver plunging 20 metres into the rapidly flowing turquoise waters of the River Neretva below - all this after he has extorted enough donations from the eager crowds to make it worth his while! It’s hard to think that this beautiful bridge too was destroyed in the civil war, and was painstakingly rebuilt, opening again in 2004. It is now a UNESCO World Heritage site. Although besieged with tourists during the summer months, the Stari Most is a most picturesque sight to behold, and the top visitor attraction in the country.

In the midst of the hordes I literally bumped into my French friend, Ersan, who greeted me like a long-lost brother, and insisted on us going for a refreshing drink - very welcome given the heat. We then went our separate ways and I headed for the railway station to catch the train to Sarajevo. As there are only two trains per day, I think everyone else had the same idea, but once again we all got on board and what a spectacular journey it was. Following the valley of the river, the train snaked along beautiful tree covered hills, crossing bridges and across deep ravines, before climbing high into the mountains as the sun was starting to set. Now this is what you call travelling!Read more