Mostar

Well, now for something completely different… this morning I leapt out of bed (with gay abandon), rushed into town to the bankomat to get spare funds, raced back to the apartment to get my passport.. and jumped on to the 7 o’clock bus heading to Bosnia, specifically to Mostar. Along the coast towards Split and then up the most incredibly steep road to the top where it plateaued out with deep ravines and gorges with the most delicious rich soil turned over ready for the spring planting, deep soil colour, redolent of the rich Bombay market garden soils. Trick question - how many people does it take to check passports as you pass from Croatia to Bosnia - Herzegovina? - 6 men in uniform, all standing around smoking, and one female policija who gathers all of the passports to check against the computer. Fascinating, but I didnt dare risk photographing them.

Mostar is about two hours into Bosnia-Herzegovina from Makarska, which place, I have to say, was a bit of a shock – third world communist feeling initially.

I got off the bus at the autobusna stanica – broken glass, no signs, no office, the building had been started a while ago and not ever finished, and stood there wondering where to head to, and what to do next. Fortunately there was a Belgian couple looking equally bewildered, and so we combined forces for the day.

The Turks (the Ottoman Empire) conquered the area surrounding Mostar in 1468 and it was they who bought the Muslim religion to the area

- and built the famous bridge crossing the Neretva River, the fast and beautiful aqua coloured river that flows through Mostar.

There were a lot of conversions from the Christian religion to the Muslim one at the time – it was more economical for a start, as the Muslims were taxed at a lower rate – who can argue with that!

This is a town that has been ravaged by war – Montenegro and Serbia declared war on the Turkish occupied state in the 17th Century – Austria and Hungary annexed the area to their empire in 1876, which reign ended with the end of the First World War – it was united into the Kingdom of Yugoslavia at the end of the 2nd World War (bit of map re-drawing involved) and prospered quickly with industrial and agricultural development. Many lives were lost in the WW2 – a specific graveyard has been created for those who died in the fight against facism.
Walking through the town, there are war wounds from the most recent war in 1992-1995, with bombed buildings and houses with sniper holes.

Whole graveyards are dedicated to those that died during that time – graves that show huge numbers (specifically young Muslim people ) who died in 1992, 1993. It would be interesting to know exactly how many lives were lost in this most recent war. The historic bridge has been rebuilt as it was completely bombed, as has the original stari grad, the old village. Walking through this old town, there is still a definite Turkish flavor (right down to the lokum) with beautiful mosques and rugs. The town itself is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The rest of the city was, to be honest, pretty untidy and unkempt – but with a feeling of prosperity in an odd way – the shops were often upmarket in modern malls with brands and stock that I hadn’t seen in other towns. I even managed to get the sexiest pair of tramping boots you can imagine. Branka said they would have been smuggled in – they were a good price! Mr Erceg, President of the Mountain Climbing Club hasn’t seen the last of me! I just need to walk around my apartment to wear them in – 6 steps one way, then back!