Mostar

Originally, I had planned to head to Italy after Croatia. However, travelling through Western Europe just seemed too easy especially after Ghana. Clare, from Britain, and I decided to head to Mostar in Bosnia & Herzegovina. Her and I had been running into each other continuously from Hvar to Korcula to Durbrovnik.

We had been recommended to go to Majdas’s Guesthouse by a couple of Swedes. When we arrived in Mostar, we were going to give the place a call to pick us up (calling card says free pick up) after heading to the bank. However, on our way to the bank, a white panel van rolls up asking if we were going to Majdas’s Guesthouse. We say yes and he says hop in. So, what would you do in this situation? Well, we decided to hop in the van. Fortunately, it was the real deal and we were not taken to some secluded area and beaten to death.

We are amused to find that the guesthouse was run by a friendly family of a brother, his sister, and mother. We met an American girl named Justine there and we invited her to do a tour of the town. There we would run into a Canadian named Mike who had previously met in Hvar.

In town we discovered the beautiful Stari Most old (now new) bridge. It is a structure you could stare at for hours. This bridge was completely destroyed during the Balkan war and has since been rebuilt with money from donor countries. If you give some money to one of the macho speedo wearing local divers, he will leap off the 21m high bridge for you. However, there are consequences to jumping off the bridge yourself with out paying. According to one American I would later meet, he jumped off the bridge, swam to shore, and then was beaten up by the divers in speedos.

Some background on Mostar. This place was mostly home to Bosnians (Muslims) and Croatians (Catholics). During the war, the Serbians laid siege to the city. However, the Bosnians and Croatians were later able to repel them. In turn, the Croatians then decided to try and use military force to push all the Bosnians to one side of the river. The result was a lot of damage to mosques, churches, bridges, and buildings along with many deaths. Today, there are still evidence of the war with shelled out/bullet holed riddle buildings, graveyards, bad memories, and bitterness. However, donor countries have provided aid to help rehabilitate many of the old mosques, churches and other buildings damaged during the war.

The guesthouse also gave tours of the surrounding area. So, the following day about ten of us piled into the now familiar white panelled van where we would be taken to a secluded area and killed…just kidding. Instead the brother took us to a small town called Pocitelj where we visited a mosque, climbed a medieval tour, and had Turkish coffee. Then it was off to a winery and finally to the amazing Kravice Waterfalls where we swam around the falling water. The brother, our guide, was very informative and funny. One joke was that he was going to take us to see Boris and his harem. Well Boris turned out to be a rooster.

In the evening we all went out for dinner at a local restaurant. We had each picked a dish for ourselves but decided we all had to try…fried brain…yay! It was surprisingly good taste but the texture was well…like brain. Later we would sit on cushions drinking alcohol and then go to a bar located in a cave to drink some more.

All the people I had met were incredibly interesting. Mike and I we were born on the same day, in the same year. I shared a conversation with a French girl who was also a town planner. Then there was the young couple who were planning to do a documentary on Kosovo as it nears independence. Finally, there were Diane and Stacy from Newfoundland; Newfounlanders are always a riot.

Dubrovnik

Dubrovnik has often been called the pearl of Adriatic. The old town does fit the bill with its limestone medieval wall, limestone street pavers, limestone buildings, and clay tile roofs. The narrow streets lead you to churches, museums, art galleries, restaurants, bars, and shops. Residential homes can be identified with laundry being strung out their windows.

Understandably, this place is flooded with tourists and the locals have gone out of their way to make it easy as possible for you to spend your money. Practically every sign for example is in English. Also, in the evening are a number of events including music, performances, and fashion shows. Oddly, the tourist map of the town does not identify places of interests but where “damages caused by the aggression on Dubrovnik by the Yugoslav army, Serbs, and Montenegrians 1991-1992”.

Without an intense search, you would think that all there was to eat in Dubrovnik was pizza and ice cream. Fortunately, I met a New Zealand guy who showed us an amazing sea food restaurant by the harbour. The four of us together shared these huge boles of calamari, squid, and shrimp, downed them with beer, and mopped up the sauce with bread. The only complaint was we had to ask that our beer mugs be topped up after receiving them half empty (or half full?).

Side Note: Filling ones beer mug half full seems to be typical of such countries as Croatia and the Czech Republic. Instead of pouring the beer in slowly, with the glass tilted, they just pour until the foam reaches the top. If your glass ends up half empty, well sucks to be you.

Outside the town walls however is a different story. In fact the rest of Dubrovnik is terribly boring with not much else to see. It seems the people of Dubrovnik were not inspired enough by their old town to make the rest of the city attractive or interesting.

There was quite a disagreement occurring between the hostel I was staying at and the guesthouses located nearby. As you walked up the stairs to the hostel, little old ladies would say “I got a nice room, come see”. While I ignored them, the odd traveller would stop and take a look. However, these guesthouses did not have licences and the hostel would threaten the women with calling the cops if they let a disgruntled hosteller (I thought the place was decent) stay with them.

Another side note: You were often confronted at train stations, bus stations, and ferry terminals by little old ladies who were pushing you to stay at their guesthouse. “I got a nice room, come see” and “it’s close, come, come”.