Tolmin (Slovenia) - Piva Gorge (Bosnia)
I'll be the first to admit that prior to rolling out of the Alps into Slovenia I couldn't even have matched up half of the eastern european countries names to their positions on a map, and knew little more of them other than they'd had a fairly good scrap in the mid 90's.
So it was with satiated wanderlust and tangible excitement at the prospect of of exploring unknown lands that I took a selfie at the Slovenian border crossing sign. Albeit without another soul in sight, let alone an obstinate border officer, as the Slovenians were very well behaved after the above scrap and were welcomed into the EU fold some while ago.
So it was with satiated wanderlust and tangible excitement at the prospect of of exploring unknown lands that I took a selfie at the Slovenian border crossing sign. Albeit without another soul in sight, let alone an obstinate border officer, as the Slovenians were very well behaved after the above scrap and were welcomed into the EU fold some while ago.
My route planning has mostly been a rushed couple of minutes here and there as it usually happens in a hostel where there's fun to be had beer to drink, going something like, "Where're the mountains and the next interesting place?". So leaving the alps only to find their Julian sibling rising up throughout Slovenia amongst lush forests and turquoise rivers was a welcome surprise. And after a mammoth beard shaving effort in the delightful town of Tolmin, the serene scenery drew me along to the capital Ljubljana.
It's a great little city, with a vibey riverside cafe scene through the centre and castle towering above it. With backpacking representatives from all the major colonies, there were tales of -40 deg Winnipeg winters, Aussies behaving badly and young Brit Chelsea's brimming enthusiasm for an imminent season in Magaluf (let's not judge now!) and before I knew it, horse burgers at 5am...all of the above ensuring I rode out of town painfully and reluctantly about 6hrs later.
With a worthy climb for the privilege, I crested a ridge and gazed out upon the hazy blue Adriatic Sea and the famed Croatian coastline (a far improved spectacle from a dreary grey mudflat the last time I'd seen the ocean in Belgium!). The mercury had now climbed into the mid 30's and thus a 45 deg change to a week previously in the dolomites - a thoroughly welcome contrast indeed!
And so through sun drenched days the miles rolled by along a shimmering coastline set against a backdrop of rock strewn mountains. Interspersed with brief city stops to take in the history and atmosphere of the bustling seaside towns of Zadar and Split, life on the road really was pretty damn good.
Notable mentions were the hypnotically calming sea organ steps in Zadar, whose melodic whale like tones constantly ebb and flow under the power of the ocean; the awesomely eccentric frog museum in Split consisting of 500 taxidermied frogs in human scenes; and clubbing with young travellers to the Back Street Boys and Spice Girls - The Balkans affinity for for aging pop ballads is humorously undisputable!
Notable mentions were the hypnotically calming sea organ steps in Zadar, whose melodic whale like tones constantly ebb and flow under the power of the ocean; the awesomely eccentric frog museum in Split consisting of 500 taxidermied frogs in human scenes; and clubbing with young travellers to the Back Street Boys and Spice Girls - The Balkans affinity for for aging pop ballads is humorously undisputable!
After a smidgen more classic Croatian coast and a big mountainous left turn, my passport could finally look forward to its first stamp of the trip as I eagerly rode towards Bosnia & Herzegovina to find out for myself the story of this troubled land.
First stamp in the passport, there was immediately a distinct difference, Bosnia appearing considerably poorer and more rural than the rest of the Balkans thus far. I'd have to wait for Sarajevo to delve properly into the history as it was Mostar's time to shine as a vibrant provincial town with it's famous restored bridge and a number of buildings still bearing the scars of the savage war that raged here, now twenty years on. The tall derelict building in the middle of town used by Serbian snipers providing a sobering experience and terrifying perspective of the realities of the besiegement.
Street art inside the sniper building provided interesting insights into the mindsets of people in a conflict.
After some more travelling revelry, including saving a poor maiden from a creepy socially inept German, the road carved it's way through spectacular lush gorges overlooked by towering snowy peaks on its way to the now infamous Bosnian capital. Finding a wild camp spot en route was made more interesting than usual thanks to the regular warnings of landmines that still abound, but finally rest came with the spectacular backdrop shown below.
Often the forgotten countries and places turn out to be some of the best.
Entering Sarajevo it’s apparent how the geography of the area influenced the four year siege on the city by the Serbs – It is a long linear settlement bordered immediately on three sides by steep hills, and it was from these hills that the Serbs constantly inundated the city with mortar bombs and sniper fire. A local woman about my age led an insightful, non-sugar coated tour of the city. Much like it is at home in South Africa, 20 years on from the liberation of the country not much has changed for the locals, unemployment is around 40% (and 60% for those under 35) and they have no options for emigration and are shunned by all of Europe due to their economic status.
Sarajevo though is a great city with a bustling vibe and most of the centre and older buildings have been faithfully restored. Ironically this atmosphere is in enhanced due to the prevalence of so many of the unemployed younger generation passing the time drinking coffee in the time many street side cafes.
Sarajevo though is a great city with a bustling vibe and most of the centre and older buildings have been faithfully restored. Ironically this atmosphere is in enhanced due to the prevalence of so many of the unemployed younger generation passing the time drinking coffee in the time many street side cafes.
Bosnia wasn't done yet though, and rounded off a great surprise of a country with more stunning gorges and raging white water all the way to the Montenegrin border, where the amicable border official inquired as to whether I'd like to swap passports if I was so fond of his country! (I'm British for the moment, not sure he would've been as keen on the Green Mamba).
