A detour to Bosnia / Herzegovina

Not too far south of Zadar, we make a short stop in another attractive coastal town. Trogir is touted in some guidebooks as being a perfect tiny medieval town. Set on an island with only one bridge connecting to the mainland, a big fortress dominates the promenade and busy harbour filled with cruise boats and pleasure craft.We find a parking spot in the lot near the bridge. And yes, it is pretty, dripping with quaint alleys, cobbled streets, stone steps leading to impossibly small apartments, flapping laundry - which seems romantic when it's flapping beside ancient, crenellated walls. But somehow it feels like Trogir has sold its soul to tourism. It is hardly fair to judge a town on a quick walk through (particularly since we ourselves are a couple of those pesky tourists) but neither of us feel like lingering so we get back on the road - destination Mostar in Bosnia & Herzegovina.

Traffic is minimal on the road to Bosnia. The country is still recovering from the horror of the war 1992 -1995 and for the first time we see vivid reminders of damage. Ruined buildings still abound in Mostar. Our lovely hotel, Shangri La Mansion is an example of the resilience of the people who stayed in the country and have picked up the pieces. The building was reduced to a shell but has been lovingly restored and operates as a boutique hotel. Up a steep hill from a main road, it commands a panoramic view of the city and its encircling mountains. From the roof top terrace, the neighbouring buildings still in ruins, are a harsh reminder of the not so distant past and the strife that tore this area apart. Croats and Serbs in a turf war, which has left invisible emotional scars as well. 

The lovely Stari Most, (Old Bridge) that spans the Neretva River is the main attraction in town. Built by the Ottomans in the 16th Century, its graceful high arch was destroyed during the war.  With the support of UNESCO and others, it was beautifully reconstructed in 2004 using modern technology and remnants of the original structure rescued from the river bed. Today it stands as a symbol of peace and collaboration. 

The question is "How many views can you photograph of the Old Bridge?" and the answer is "Many."                                                 We get our first glimpse of the bridge from our lunch stop, a restaurant that clings to one side of the high river bank. A friendly kitty sits on the railing beside our table and watches over us while we eat.

An unexpected feature of Mostar is the number of mosques and the influence of the Turkish culture. Minarets poke up between old stone buildings and booths selling all things Turkish, line the pedestrian street running on the one side of the river.

I try on a hair clip almost identical to one I bought from a small shop in Istanbul. Looking at the photo, I can't figure out why I didn't buy this one too.

Everything for a visitor is close by and along the river. Stari Most is never far from view.

The bridge is thronged with people. Crossing it is like being in tourist rush hour. But interspersed with the crowds there are other more poignant aspects. A dog sleeps on the steps oblivious to the crowds stepping around him. A woman with her hand out begging, tucks into a nook of the bridge. A sign states "Refuges welcome." 

The entrance to the War Photo Exhibition has a black and white photo that portrays a stark view of Mostar in sharp contrast to the pretty, busy city we are in today. Beside it a reminder etched into a rock, "Don't forget '93".

Across the bridge, we wander through some small streets, beside a small stream where the Crooked Bridge is situated. It's an unassuming bridge that is purported to be a trial run for the Old Bridge. Not everyone agrees with that. It's right beside the Black Dog Pub which, apart from having the same name as a pub in our 'hood back home, has been written up as being a fun place to while away an evening. We plan to return later.

It is quieter on this side of the bridge. Bombed out buildings seem to have made their peace in the park-like setting. 

When we come back down to the river, we are at the other side of the Old Bridge. This is a spot where people come to watch daredevils jump off the side of the bridge. It's a long drop! We find a good observation spot and get into conversation with a fellow from Minnesota who is lounging on a rock nearby. We stay for a while chatting about this and that, and take the opportunity of having photos taken of ourselves. A couple of bridge jumps take place and a kayaker paddles by, probably oblivious to how close he comes to being creamed by a non-suicidal jumper.

 Lit up at night, the bridge is a lovely site.
And our evening at the Black Dog Pub was a fun way to kick back, listen to live music and meet locals. Clearly somewhat of a motorcycle riders' hangout, we felt quite at home.