Adventures at home, abroad, and online

Mostar

After an early morning bus ride, we left Croatia and entered Bosnia and Herzegovina. Sadly, we didn’t get an extra stamp, as the border consisted of them seeing our US passports, and waving us along. Didn’t have lodging booked ahead of time, as my accumulated off by one errors have caused me enough grief and extra expense that I’m inclined to wing it. A nice old lady came at us off the bus, and we followed her to our spartan digs. Hey, for 10 euros a night, I’m not going to complain. It’s actually right next to the place I was going to book, so it has that going for it.

The former front line
Cemetery from 1993 massacre

Mostar was one of the cities most damaged architecturally by the war, and while the Old Bridge has been rebuilt, and the tourist area is thriving, the old front line is still clearly visible. We bought an engraved 50 cal shell. Feels a bit like war tourism, but the old man who made it seemed happy enough to take our money.

Mostar old bridge

Sat and watched divers plunge from the Old Bridge 60 feet to the frigid water below, proving their machismo and garnering tips from passersby. They are real showmen, and stand on the edge for a long time until they have enough to jump. I tossed in my Bosnian change, but apparently they prefer foreign currency. Still took it, though.

Koski Mehmed-Pasa Mosque

As we are rather churched out, it has been interesting watching the appearance of mosques. We also went to a Turkish house, which was nicely appointed, but probably only a shadow of things to come.

Sarajevsko pivo

Still taking pictures of particularly quenching mugs of beer. So Ruth, this Sarajevsko’s for you.

After walking around looking for burek (the typical Balkan meat filled pastry), we stumbled upon a performance by a local student band. It seemed to be part of some summer program, run by the “Brass Brothers”, a group of old guys from Sweden and Norway. They did a stirring rendition of Blueberry Hill, and some Bosnian classics, which we didn’t recognize, but everyone else did. On the way home we passed all sorts of hotties going out to ze clubs, but we had an early train to catch, so I’ll have to wait to get my dance on.

Punk rendition of Blueberry Hill

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4 Comments

  1. Cheers!

    That bridge is mad beautiful.

  2. Jani

    That beer looks huge, must be the angle right.

    Ten Euros for lodging is impressive – no bed bugs?

    Amazes me how you can use that GPS to coordinate your photos but using a calendar and getting the right date is not working out. I think you are so far into vacation mode that dates are totally irrelevant.

  3. Actually, the bridge is 21m high, so it isn’t all the angle. No bed bugs for the 10 euro bed, although my back was rather stiff in the morning. And while I can be scatterbrained about dates, I think these are all right, at least in my local timezone. However, the blog seems to be set permanently to East Coast time, so things may be a little off when I get further and further from home. Stupid technology…

  4. dear Josh and Hannah,

    So great to read about your adventures and see photos. Sounds like a blast! Looking forward to reading more.

    Ella is great, except she became a tick magnet on the Cape. She loved swimming in the ocean and thought waves were invented just for her.

    Happy travels.
    love, mom/ema

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