Friday 12th April

We decided to check out a a Mausoleum on a high hill top above Kotor. The most intense switchback road yet! The GPS screen was more pink road than white it road. And the views down were awesome, when you lifted your eyes from the narrow road with oncoming traffic. We pulled over at a viewpoint after the 27th turn to let the car behind us pass. It didn’t, instead pulling in behind us. Talking to them while taking photographs, they’d been very glad to have us leading the way.

We then continued to climb up and up, just not with continuous switchbacks. Up to 1600 metres, into cloud. The last 500 metres had snow banks higher than the van. We then reached a very small circular parking area. Thank god there was a spot big enough for us that we could easily reverse into. We then climbed up 600 odd stairs, partly in a tunnel, to the very crest of the mountain. It was snowing but quickly turned to ice. Cold! Very very cold.

The mausoleum was impressive… It was built 1970 to 1974 on the country’s second highest peak (1657). This is the mountains that gave Montenegro it’s name, black mountains. The black marble vaulted tomb itself features a 24 carat gold mosaic ceiling and a 28 ton sculpture of Petar II Petrovic Njegos, carved from a single block of black marble. His sarcophagus is in a pale marble room below. I have no idea who he was. He lived 1813 to 1851 but obviously was significant to Montenegro. I will google when I have good wifi or data again.

Descending the mountain again the cloud had come in so no views sadly. But new challenges as the large tourist buses were coming up. The first one we meet was just before a switchback turn so the bus backed up. There is a bit more room on the bends. The second one we found out about when two cars appeared out of the mist reversing back up the hill. We also had to reverse back till we got to the last turn and with a bit of manoeuvring the bus got past us all. Then there was a group of 20 cars, obviously all together. Next challenge was a concrete truck. That one was a bit scary as there was virtually no room. We ended up in a tiny gravel ditch on the wrong side of the road. He was a very pushy driver. Seriously, this road has way more traffic than it should. Glad we’re traveling out of season.

When we were driving down a reasonable sized road, after we’d got out of the mountains, there was what looked like a slightly large cat running down the centre line. A car coming the other way slowed and the animal turned to our side and headed into some bushes. Side on, it was clearly not a cat but a fox. First time I’ve ever seen one. And gone too quickly for me to grab a photo.

We continued down into Kotor and found a sweet place to free camp right on the waterfront with the Old Town dead ahead over the inlet, 10 minutes walk. There’s a large cruise ship blocking our view when we park but it will leave well before us.

We walk into the Old Town via the southern gate over a huge natural spring. Then because we’re suckers for punishment we turned right and climbed up 1350 steps (according to Lonely Planet – I didn’t actually count this time) to the old fortress perched on the top of a hill…. Nah it’s a mountain, 260 metres, exceptionally steep. We’ve certainly working off yesterday’s indulgences.

The view from the top is spectacular. No cloud so we can actually see this time. Also not so high. Greg takes lots of photos, sometimes I’m a matchstick to give scale. Sometimes he wants me to pose. Haha, after a while I just start goofing around. Got one of him though.

By the time we get back down again, the Cruise ship has pushed off and heading out to sea. I’m craving some salty crisps and a drink. Back at our van and our view now is the full front of city walls. Apparently they are lit up at night so we will see after drinks and dinner.

Kotor is amazing. You look at it and can see and understand its history. Built between a river and a fresh water spring coming out of the cliffs. A strong sea wall that is now fronted by a road and promenade. Then the back city walls winding up to the hilltop, with small fortresses on the corners and part way up and a large one at the top. You can see the advantages of the location and therefore it’s desirability to both the inhabitants and the invaders. The harbour itself is also defendable as sea access passes through two narrow channels. It’s also, because of that has very calm waters.

Haven’t found any wifi spots all day so uploading anything will have to wait.

After dinner, we walked back to the Old Town. It’s quite different at night. A lot more moody. Atmospheric. Greg’s taking lots of photos, I’m just soaking it all in.

Did find some sneaky wifi but I just had my phone. So only uploaded a couple of phone photos from today and checked the weather forecast.

To enter the bay of Kotor from the sea, boats go through a narrow S bend passage into a first bay, then through a second passage to reach the inner area….

13th April

In the morning we drove out and around the headland that we’re staying at the start of. At the furthest tip there is a little church and out to sea two islands, both built on. One looks like a fortress, the other is a church. Back around the peninsula, through Kotor and on around the coast to the little town of Perast. This is on the second headland with the same two islands, just off shore. We have coffee and decline all the offers of a boat trip out to one of the islands, ‘only 5€, very cheap, refund your parking…’ After a look around we carry on around the coast, stopping to have lunch on the third headland looking at those same islands. Would love to watched a big cruise ship negotiate the bend but we are out of season and likely wrong time of the day even if we were.

We’re being really lucky with the weather and this is a delightful coast to be meandering our way around. actually, overall Montenegro has impressed us.

First border crossing back into Croatia and there is an A4 sign on the gate saying ‘Border Control is not working’. U turn and back down the lovely coast road then inland a bit to the next crossing. The queue starts a kilometre out. Now 5 cars back, one of three gates and they’re taking 10 minutes per car. It’s a long slow process just to leave. Hopefully the Croatian Gate is more efficient. Yes it is.

Now in a little campground in a little bay miles from anywhere. Some English bikers in a tent and a German family in a big camper. We share stories as the sun sets. Wifi and data so can catch up on messages and notifications from home & FB. Can also upload this later. Fresh Asparagus for dinner and the last bottle of Montenegrin red wine.

In case you haven’t realised, I add to my blog draft regularly. I do reread before publishing (lol) and get Greg to do a proof read, mostly for spelling and grammar.

Thursday 11th April

An afternoon moment of total relaxation. Sitting on a low part of Budva’s city wall. The sea pounding on the rocky bay below providing a rhythmic bass in one ear while an acoustic guitarist, playing in a courtyard on my other side, provided the treble notes. The sun warming the breeze. My back leaning against the Citadel wall. My view ranging from the sun dappled sea, green headlands across to old stone city buildings with wooden shutters. I close my eyes and totally relax. I should really let my senses overwhelm my thinking brain more often. Just a few minutes and I am so chilled.

Surprise surprise (not) Greg photographed my moment.

It had thundered overnight. Long rolling cracks that travelled from one side of the van to the other. The morning offered clouds and blue sky. That mountain range trapping the forecast wet weather.

We walked into the old town along the waterfront. Budva is gorgeous. This is an old town that is lived in. Yes there are souvenir shops but there are also jewellery shops, clothes shops and others. Every courtyard area offering food and/or drink places. The buildings are unpainted stone with wooden shutters. Cats laze in the sunshine and vines twist up out of small yards. It’s not very big but you can still lose yourself in the narrow lanes.

We found the entrance to the city wall walk, which was closed but we squeezed past the gate and walked them anyway. We exited on the other side, circling around a stony beach to a brass sculpture on a rock, waves crashing around it. Then carried on past and around the headland to the next bay, this one sandy. Greg photographing the waves.

Back to the old town and we paid to enter the citadel. Perched on the tip of the old town, it has commanding views over its high walls. Both out to sea and also back at the looming mountains, their tops still hidden in cloud. Dark, threatening storm clouds. The high tops keeping them from this town. For today at least.

Greg got a haircut. A artist at work, meticulous attention to every strand of hair. Homemade Apple Schnapps before the barber began.

Coffee on the beach. An indulgent lunch in a little courtyard, with local vino. More coffee and sweet treats by the fishing boats. Food and drinks mingled throughout the day.

All in all a very chilled, relaxed day. Montenegro has redeemed itself from yesterday.

Wednesday 10th April

From our campsite, we drove 5 more k’s of rough single lane road to the border of Montenegro. Checked out of Bosnia, crossed the bridge and checked into Montenegro. Actually got a stamp this time. Our first since arriving in Germany.

While getting the regular texts from Vodafone upon changing service provider that come through every time we cross a border, there was an extra one. I translated it and then discovered Bosnia and Montenegro are not included in the free roaming that Vodafone provides. Shit. €1.20 per megabyte. Further investigation and Greg and I have chewed through half a gigabyte, eating into the funds we’d prepaid so our SIM’s would click over every month. Next time we pass through Germany, we will have to find a Vodafone shop and re-top up. Lessons learned – don’t ignore the welcome texts.

I promptly turned off the mobile data and then learned something about myself. I instantly felt isolated, unsure of where I was. I realised I regularly use my phone to – check we’re on the correct route, see what’s around us worth looking at, where can we park a 6 metre long van, where can we free camp if the first place isn’t any good, what’s the weather forecast like. Where’s a good coffee/lunch/bakery/supermarket. We’re now reduced to the Lonely Planet and a map book plus the hit and miss GSP.

Firstly the drive was easy, there were no other roads to get lost on. We traversed this intense valley, the road cut into the steep cliff about halfway up with tunnel after tunnel after tunnel. Rough rock cuttings. A river way way below. I read later that it was the Tara Canyon and is one of the deepest in the world at 1300 metres, the Grand Canyon is a mere 200 metres. We were right to be in awe of it.

After that we kept an eye out for a coffee place. Found one but they only had Turkish coffee. Greg was not impressed. But hey, it cost €1 for two large cups. Me, coffee is coffee and I’m drinking it straight anyway.

Next stop was a small town for fresh bread and some supplies. I discovered this morning we’d bought Handy towels instead of loo paper. We had a wander around then moved on to a pull off with a view for lunch.

I preplanned we could free camp in the car park of a hill top monastery. Following the GSP down a switch back road I spotted the monastery in the distance, but not on the road we were traveling. Oh well, it looks like a really pretty valley. We’ll just carry on and stop in the next good looking spot. Haha we didn’t stop until we reached the coast. Once we’d left the pretty valley with its complete lack of pull off spots the landscape was rocky and mountainous and rocky. Montenegro’s native name is Crna Gora, which means Black mountain. And having now driven from almost the furthest point inland to the coast I think it’s a very appropriate name.

Skirting around Podgorica, the capital of Montenegro we ended up on a 4 lane expressway, divided by a small island. We stayed in the slow right lane as the cars overtook. Suddenly new seal and the road markings disappeared. Next thing there are cars coming towards us in the other lane. ??? We slow down. Then we get the ‘Roadworks’ sign. No cones, no directions. We come to a roundabout. Crazy. It’s not being used as a roundabout by the traffic on the main flow but is by those coming from the side roads. The 4th roundabout and traffic is going like normal, all 4 lanes in operation but the 5th roundabout and it’s back to only one side. After the 8th roundabout the road went back to a normal 2 lane road and we carried on.

Before we reached the coast we started climbing up again and over more mountains. We disappeared into thick cloud. The visibility was less than 10 metres. I have no idea how steep or deep the valleys were as it was a struggle just to see the edge of the road. Descending the other side was a series of 5 switchbacks, my ears popped at least 3 times so I think we were quite high.

Anyhow, after using a little data we have found a camp site with free wifi in Budva. Will stay 2 nights I think and explore the old town tomorrow. Lonely planet describes it as a mini Dubrovnik and recommends walking the city walls.

The weather isn’t pleasant, low clouds, rain on and off, predictions of thunderstorms. On a lovely sunny day Montenegro is probably really really nice. Hiking and rafting, mountain climbing…. not today though. I’m an optimist. Tomorrow is going to be fantastic.

Tuesday 9th April

Morning conversation with another camper. He’s a retired Sociology professor. German. His idol is Hadley Wickham. Spends 10 months of the year living in his camper, following the snow melt. He uses the same app I’m using, park4night. His daughter married a Bosnian. He is staggered that the Bosnian people can be so proud of their clean fresh water but let their waterways be rubbish dumbs.

Sorry Croatia for putting down the condition of your roads. Comparatively they’re pretty good.

We left Sarajevo and headed south. Bosnia doesn’t seem to have a lot of roads. This one was the M18 and runs all the way into Montenegro. It started rough and got worse. We’re driving through steep steep mountains with rough cut tunnels and fast flowing rivers. There are lots of areas to pull off and I’m sure in better weather it would be wonderful. Just look past the piles and piles of rubbish.

We climbed up and over a high mountain pass, snow reappearing in the ditches, any view disappearing into the grey cloud. Weaving between the pot holes becomes more challenging. Thankfully the law requiring lights on at all times means you can spot the kamikaze cars coming towards you.

We stop for coffee and a breather in a dark smoky bar. Two TV’s, one showing Greyhound racing with a betting machine below. The other playing football. There are about a dozen young men drinking coffee and smoking, more come in while we’re there. I feel like we’re in the middle of nowhere so where are they coming from? The 2 coffees cost 2KM that’s €1.96. We bought fresh bread next door and it cost 1KM.

Carrying on, the road becomes a single track. Speed limit might be 80 but we’re barely half that as we wind our way around potholes, dirt slips, boulders and collapsed sections.

I’m certainly questioning my choices on where to go and how to get there. I know we can always turn back if we feel it’s getting too dodgy.

We find the campsite I’d picked by the pretty photos of campers beside a lovely river. Closed as out of season for rafting. Never mind, we’ll free camp on the huge concrete area outside the gates. Hooked into free wifi which is a bonus. Its pretty weak but it’s enough.

Accuweather says it 8 degrees and it’s wet so we’re just relaxing inside the van. Tomorrow’s not looking any better here but hopefully Montenegro will be different. Haha, we’re only 5km from the border so I’m not overly optimistic. Wonder what Montenegro’s roads are like?

The rain lifts so we go for a walk. Explore the Rafting Camps along the river bank. The Drina River is running high, green tinged water with white caps and standing waves. Mist rising off the surface entangles the bare tree tops before wafting up the valleys. It softens the edges and mutes the colours. Greg’s taking lots of photos.

The camps are vast, row after row of A framed chalets. Huge dining areas with cantilevered decks. There are 4 separate camps cheek to jaw. Clearly a lot of people take on that road in summer. A worker tells us they are taken 25km up river and then raft down through a canyon back to camp.

Home away from home.

I should describe our van. Starting at the back our bed is 2 metres long, 1.5 wide and about 900 off the floor. The bed base is slats that are sprung like Scandinavian beds. Very comfortable.

Under the bed is plenty of storage accessed by the back door. We have the spare wheel in there. The frame under the van is broken. Apparently spare wheels often get stolen. The company we’ve rented from told us they had a yard broken into and 40 spare wheels were taken. We were given the option of having a small single use ‘refill’ kit but chose to sacrifice space and take a full spare wheel.

There is a cupboard to one side with two 11kg gas cylinders, one connected and a spare. Behind that is the pump systems for the gas and the water. The gas goes 3 places, hot water cylinder, cooking and heating. The fridge is 3 way, gas, electricity or battery. The lights are either electricity or battery. The power points are electricity only.

Above the bed is u shaped cupboards, holding all our clothes and a skylight. We fall asleep under the stars. When it’s not raining haha. Either side of the small step are narrow cupboards where we have our shoes and above one is a narrow wardrobe.

Next comes the fridge, it’s a pretty big one and has a reasonable sized freezer too. Over that is a good sized cupboard which we’re using as the pantry.

Opposite that behind a sliding door is the toilet and hand basin. There is a vent here from the pumps which means this is also a good place to dry clothes etc. The hallway area converts into a shower with a shower tray under a pull up floor panel. The sliding door rolls around and connects with a second vertical roller door then the basin tap pulls out and hooks into a ceiling slot becoming the shower head.

The sliding doors also mean we can close off the bedroom from the bathroom area and the bathroom area from the living area so 3 separate contained areas or either 2 and 1 combination.

Moving forward again, on the fridge side there is the kitchen unit. A sink and 2 gas elements, both with hinged lids to maximise workable bench space. Underneath is 3 decent drawers. There is a fold up bench extension too so plenty of work space. Above is another cupboard and an open shelf.

Backed up against the bathroom wall is a bench seat with 2 seatbelts. Under that is a good storage cupboard, where we have our backpacks. In front of the bench seat is a table. It also has an extendable part. Then the driver and passenger seats swivel around creating a cosy seating/dining area for up to 4 people. Under the bed we have squabs and a base piece that converts the table and bench seat into another bed if needed. There is another skylight over this area. Plus two more cupboards over the table and an open storage area over the driving cab. There are two infloor storage areas under the table, accessed by hatches. Much more storage than we need.

All the windows and the skylights can openEd and they all have blinds and fly screens. The side door also has a fly screen. The windows are darkly tinted so even if the blinds are open it’s very difficult to look in. There is a panel above the side door that monitors the fresh and grey water tanks and the power levels of both batteries.

All in all it’s both cosy and roomy.

I was going to write a piece about the difficulties of driving on Croatian roads, after crossing into Bosnia Herzegovina I realised Croatian roads and drivers paled into insignificance.

The car accident we passed just before the border was a sign of things to come. Ok so the roads are in a bad state, and there aren’t many of them so they’re busy. And narrow. What gets me though is how many of the drivers here use the centre line (when there is one) like the slot in a slot car set. Three times on the road into Mostar from the border I had to brake, or brake and take evasive action to avoid cars overtaking coming towards us or driving around a corner with half their car on my side of the road.

We caught a taxi from our camp into Sarajevo. Half the time the driver was imagining he was in a car race, the other half he was texting and driving.

We left Sarajevo with the temperature at 11 degrees and headed over a mountain pass, climbing potholed, serpentine roads. River gorges to one side and rock bluffs to the other. Mist all around, thickening as we reached the top. The temperature had dropped to 5 degrees and visibility was barely one hundred metres.

During the drive we technically drove out of Bosnia and into, and then out of, the Republic of Srpska twice. Srpska is Serbian governed or something like that (it’s complicated!). Graffiti on the signs welcoming you to the republic showing that still all is not well. The road up was steep and difficult but it was seemingly worse going down. At one point a car came up behind us out of nowhere, I pulled into a small off-road area and let him pass. Before he was lost to sight I could see that he was taking right hand corners while fully in the left hand lane. No wonder he came out of nowhere, he was driving a straight road while we were driving a winding road. Later we came around one downhill corner to find a truck halfway over the centre line, I braked and turned to the right to avoid it. Unfortunately this happened at the precise point where a boulder, about the size and shape of a rugby ball stuck to a soccer ball lay in the gutter. I had seen it and thought we’d just get by it, but no. The right front wheel crashed over the rugby ball end (thankfully), Barb let out a yell and the steering lurched in my hands. The van stalled. It started ok so we drove off slowly and stopped in the next pull off. Thankfully the tyre and wheel were ok, if a little scarred.

We drove on a little more gingerly until we found a coffee stop. Entering the cafe/bar I felt like I was going to catch lung cancer the air was that thick with cigarette smoke.

Post coffee we drove on towards our camping destination for the night. A flooded turquoise river passed under a bridge that we crossed. The road took a turn for the worse immediately after the bridge. To the left dirt and rock slides had recently been cleared but dirt, stone and rocks as big as fists littered the road. To the right the road had terraced edges that seems to be slowly collapsing into the river valley far below. No guard rails here. Where the road was sealed it was patches on patches, and all of it potholed. You don’t so much drive this road as negotiate it. The rain had filled the potholes so it became a game of chance. Which is the bad pothole? The one on the right or the one on the left? Of course we came upon a large truck heading towards us on a particularly narrow unsealed section. We both stopped. I edged the camper the right, onto the dirt and weeds at the very edge of the road. He moved forward and stopped, unable to get past my rear. I moved forward and stopped, unable to get past his rear. He then moved forward so I moved forward, and we both went on our way.

For kilometre after kilometre, pothole after pothole, subsidence after subsidence it went on like this. I kept the camper in third gear despite the Citroen’s dash prompting me in bright red to CHANGE UP🔺! CHANGE UP🔺!

Sitting on the edge of the driver’s seat I felt like shouting back “GET STUFFED🖕!”

I was just about to say to Barb that I hope we don’t overshoot the campground when we overshot the campground. I wasn’t at all keen to turn around on this road so we drove on a ways hoping for a rough driveway or turning point. Nothing. At a fairly straight piece of road I executed a six point turn mid-road and we found our way back to the campground. It was closed. Bugger it we’ll stay in the car park. It is an amazing place.

Only five more kilometres of this road tomorrow and we’re into Montenegro. The roads can’t be any worse!

Can they?

Greg.

Monday 8th April

Firstly, what is it with us and Capital Cities. The weather wasn’t pleasant in Vienna. It was horrible in Zagreb and today was cold with heavy showers. Thankfully not the forecast continuous rain but still far from pleasant.

The taxi delivered us to the Old Town and on the drive in we could clearly see war damage. The apartment buildings looked barely habitable. The Old Town has been rebuilt but look behind the fronts and there is still a lot of work to be done. The Old Town is very touristy. And a lot like Turkey with the offerings and foods. Anyhow we wandered around both that part and the more modern downtown.

After trying the local cuisine for lunch we made our way to the Historical Museum. It was a challenge just finding the way in, it looks like an abandoned building. Even the front stairs, which are at the side, are uneven and partly propped up on blocks.

Inside there are 3 exhibition areas, one permanent and two regularly changing. But they are all focused on the war.

The first exhibit was a series of photographs. Kind of a before and after except the Photographer had gone out on the streets just as the war was declared over and using an old camera, photographed his damaged neighbourhood. He then went back 15 years later and reshot them to show the recovery. This was enlightening and looking again at the places outside, we became aware that essentials had been fixed. Windows, watertightness and the unseen services, electricity, water etc. What we could see unrepaired was cosmetic so not a priority. You don’t need clean lit staircases, plaster over the bullet holes isn’t important as long as inside you’re safe and dry. As long as you can feed your family and tend to their needs.

The second exhibit was how people lived during the siege. Makeshift stoves and lights, hand trolleys made out of scraps to collect water from the UN tankers. Improvised schools in basements. Human endurance, making the best of things. Positivity in the face of unbelievable difficulty.

There was a small area off this with personal accounts of the sniper attacks. The targets were all civilians. The UN would help sheltering them as they crossed roads but could do little else.

There is a hand written account from a 15 year old girl, who survived a sniper attack. Incredibly luckily she’s suddenly increased her pace just as his first shot hit. The first shot is intended to take out both legs with the second shot hitting the head. For this girl the first shot only hit one leg so she fell differently and the second shot just missed her head. She hit the ground with the absolute awareness that she was then an easy target. For whatever reason he didn’t finish her off. Cars were driving past her and not stopping. She became aware that her mother could see her from a neighbouring building. She was very conscious she had told her mother that she wouldn’t go that way to school but would take the ‘safe’ detour but then hadn’t done so. A car then stopped and someone picked her up and took her to hospital. She was lucky the bullet had passed straight through and she was bandaged up and sent home. She suffered trauma for several years but has now forgiven the sniper and feels her survival needs to mean something positive.

There are photographs of a young boy who used to hang around with the press photographers playing and then a photo of him dying from sniper fire. His bloodied jumper in a case below.

This is hard viewing. Aid could get in but the people couldn’t leave and they were the targets. There was a quote beneath a photo ‘Everything is wounded, facades, and souls, and…..

The third exhibit was so harrowing, I left thinking I couldn’t write about it at all. But after a couple of hours processing it I think I really should. People should know this.

Greg was reading about the siege last night and mentioned to me that the Sarajevo siege was the first time Rape was used as a weapon. Women and Girls were not only deliberately raped. They were then imprisoned until the children were born.

Thus the third exhibit was black and white photographs taken recently of those children and some mothers. They are categorised as ‘children born because of the war’ and suffered violation of the rights of children. They are often unacknowledged and rejected by their parents and have identity issues, stigma, discrimination and/or isolation.

Every photo had a quote underneath it. And they are gut wrenching….

‘Being invisible in the society means that one does not exist in it. Not existing in it means being afraid of it. Being afraid of it means running away from it. Running away from it means not accepting yourself. During the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina, somewhere between 30,000 and 50,000 women, girls and men were raped children were born as a result of those rapes. More than 24 years after the war, these children still live invisible in the society they are escaping from. They live in a society where they cannot accept themselves and they will not be able to do that, until the society regains its consciousness, supports them and finally, accepts them as equally valuable and indiscriminated members of the society’.

Sabrina. What’s was it like raising a child born as a consequence of rape?

“It was difficult and special. Accepting the pregnancy after this act was harder than the act itself. It was difficult and painful to bear this ‘something’ in you, which reminded you, every second, on what had happened. I could not wait for this ‘something’ to get out of me, to be free of this burden..”

“And the day came. This ‘something’ as I called it, did not cry in its first second of life. It looked at me, straight into my eyes, as if pleading for life. It is a girl.”

Also in this exhibition there where two children who weren’t from rape, but were still ‘children born from war’ their fathers were a peacekeeper and a humanitarian worker. Results of war relationships but still mixed ethnicity and unacknowledged or accepted by their fathers. Is that better or worse. No violence but these were the ‘good guys’, where is their responsibility?

As we left the museum, an art installation caught my eye. The key message was ‘Respect’.

Regardless of culture, beliefs or whatever, we need to respect every single person out there.

Returning to our camp, our hosts daughter ( who speaks English) came out and asked how our day went. I’m still a bit emotional and explained I found the museum quite hard and why. She then told us her father, our host, had gone to Germany for work just before the siege began and could not get back home. After about a year her mother and older brother, then 8 months old, managed to get through the lines and escape to join him in Germany. They stayed there for 3 years but came back home as soon as they could. The war isn’t a distant thing here, separated by time or space. It’s a part of them. They lived it. They survived.

Saturday 6th April

Another relaxing morning. The camp owner delivered fresh bread to our van. Nice. He’s vowing to come visit us in New Zealand. We continue our way down the coast. The sun is shining, shorts and tee today rather than the polyprops and puffer I started off in yesterday morning.

We meandered down the coast. The GPS is always saying ‘recalculating’ as we regularly see something interesting and turn off to explore. Coffee in a fishing village, photo stops on the hilltops. We ended up eating our lunch between an abandoned building and a tranquil harbour.

Music coming from over the water. It’s songs we know, 99% in English just the odd one in another language. I couldn’t tell you if it was Croatian or something else.

At Ploce we turn inland and follow the Neretva River into Bosnia Herzegovina. The Neretva River is the same one that in Mostar boys jump off the recreated historic stone bridge into.

It’s quite unique for us to change countries like this. A random spot on a road, 2 border controls to check your passports and within a few metres it’s a different country, different currency, different culture, in this case the language is almost the same but now instead of churches in every village it’s mosques. You go through a control on the road but the fields just roll on, on either side.

Being this close to the border and the coast the terrain doesn’t change at all and the architecture is the same. The roads are in similar condition but the dumped rubbish has increased hugely. Great piles in every layby. When you look over the fields there is plastic caught up in the tree branches and bottles in the drainage ditches. Several places with lots of rusting cars. Cue photo stops for Greg. One house’s front and side yard was stacked with rusting appliances in neat rows about 2 metres high. Less English speakers and we have to drive 5km out of our way to get to an ATM machine.

The Lonely Planet warns us not to explore old ruins or go far off the beaten track as there is still unexploded land mines. Will definitely keep that in mind.

We turn off a few kilometres before Mostar. I’d found a campsite at an eco centre with Griffin Vultures that appealed to me. Unfortunately the Vultures were poisoned a few months ago and it’s more of a tent type place than motor homes but they are happy for us to stay. We park up under the broken climbing walls, being the only bit of flat ground and go off to explore.

A few metres away there is a river coming out of a hole in the cliff. Seriously, there is an astounding amount of water pouring out. I’m not sure what it’s normally like because it is obviously in flood. There are restaurants on one side and the tables and chairs on their terraces are submerged. Think we might have to have dinner there tonight.

Google tells me that the building beside the cave/hole is an historic Sufi Mosque, containing a Turkish bath. That explains all the souvenir stalls on the other side.

A climber with a bit of English tells us the river coming out of the ground in the neighbouring valley is so full of minerals that after soaking in it any cuts or wounds will heal within a few days. Not sure if you have to be an actual rock climber to get to it or not. You certainly can’t drive there.

We indulge ourselves with a 3 course dinner and local wine in a half submerged restaurant. The bill is 61 mark. That’s about 30 Euro. Love it, indulgent and frugal all in one. Being in a steep valley it’s getting chilly now, time for a cuppa in the warmth of the van. Greg’s itching to check out the photos he’s taken this evening.

Looking at the weather forecast we will make sure we’re out of here by mid morning. There’s more rain predicted and the river is already only inches below the road.

Another day…

6th April

We got out of the valley safely, the water level still the same. 20 minutes drive and we reached Mostar. Found parking beside a small supermarket next to a large Catholic Church and within 5 minutes we were in the old town and felt like we’d transported to Turkey. Fez’s, food offerings and the numerous stalls selling trinkets, jewellery and silk scarves. We crossed the Stari Most bridge and explored the lanes, noticing the war damage in all the buildings above the shops below. the businesses had been rebuilt but not much else. Crossed back over another bridge then back to where we’d first entered. The obvious war damage having an impact on our both.

I wasn’t expecting the ‘Divers Club’ to be in action outside of the summer but mid morning they start. Exhorting the public for money before plunging off the high parapet into the river below. They parade about in brief ‘budgie smugglers ‘ but quickly don a wetsuit before making the actual jump.

We had coffee on a terrace with a view of the bridge and had lovely long conversations with young waiter. Periodically a cry would come from the kitchen and he’d rush off but soon would be back. He would love to immigrate to New Zealand. He commented that over here there was confusion over why the Christchurch terrorist played a Serb fighting song in his broadcast, he had no connection to Serbia, was he just mental?

Standing on the bridge we had counted 5 minarets and 1 Christian Bell tower. Our waiter pointed out the Orthodox tower under repair and told us that all the religions had blended together with no animosity before the war, but now there was anger and resentment between them because the war split the people based on beliefs.

Greg noticed a sign for war a photography exhibition so we climbed the stairs to check it out. A young 22 year old New Zealander called Wade Goddard went to Bosnia and in particular Mostar to try and make a career for himself in Photojournalism. These were his images so of course we had to pay and enter.

These are very powerful black and white images of people, civilians, trying to survive while their home is under siege. First one enemy then a crease fire and then the other. Snipers targeting civilians and the UN. No humanity.

I just don’t get war. It is just murder, ‘sanctioned’ by some suit behind a desk. A distant government playing God with peoples homes and lives.

And this war was multi sided. Friend becoming foe. I know this country is old. Really really old but the recent history is so dominant. It’s hard to see beyond that.

We then set course for Sarajevo, expecting to stop often on the way as we have been doing. Here it’s different, we’re driving the main road between Mostar and the capital. There are no nice little pull off areas, pity as we’re driving through amazing river valleys with towering rock formations above us. The road is challenging, so many potholes, narrow, windy with lots of dark tunnels. It’s hard to see potholes in tunnels. There is also a lot of traffic. Speeding too, and the centre line seems to be a target not a divider. Which means the numerous overtakers make it a constant game of chicken.

Arriving on the outskirts of Sarajevo and the rubbish just dominates. The streams are plastic lined and it’s not pretty. Every now and then there are fishermen fishing in them.

I’ve read theft from vehicles is fairly rife here so we’ve booked two nights in a family run campsite and will get a taxi into the city tomorrow to explore. Then we know our possessions are safe. Public transport is available but involves a few changes, bus, train, tram so we’ll just throw some money at it.

While we are having dinner, on the neighbouring property 3 children and 2 men are trying to corner a chicken. One man has a wooden bat and obviously an artificial leg. The chicken escapes through a fence and bushes. I wonder was that intended for their dinner? A bit later the men are back with a couple of women. No sign of the chicken and after some time they leave.

Can hear the call to prayer. Another sound we haven’t heard since Turkey. Dare I say it’s more soothing than the Christian Church bells.

So far I’m not loving Bosnia Herzegovina. Its recent history is so harrowing and it is clearly struggling financially. I’m not sure if winning the war was a good thing. Serbia and Croatia are both doing so much better that, maybe their plan to divide the country between them might have been better for the people here. What price freedom? ‘Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose’ according to Janis Joplin.

Friday 5th April

The day started of with pouring rain, windy and cold. The forecast said it would clear by 9am and it did thereabouts. We drove a little closer to town, parked and walked in. Split is different, yes it’s another old town but you immediately notice it’s a little more than that. We decided to pay for a walking tour. Touristy yes but it was a good decision.

The hub of Split was built by a Roman Emperor for his retirement and has been inhabited ever since. The history of Split is, like Croatia, one of subjectiveness. It’s been Roman, then Venetian, then French up until World War One then occupied by many nations through to the end of World War Two, then part of Yugoslavia until 1995. The architecture of the town is therefore quite a blend. A Roman wall means you only have to build 3 more to make a home. A Venetian mansion is easily converted to a French Pension. A Roman mausoleum, well, lets toss out the tomb and make it a church. A cold basement, lets drill a few holes and use it for a cesspit. Ironically the build up of sewage to the ceiling preserved the basement so in the twentieth century when the archaeologists excavated it, everything is in prefect condition.

We continued being tourists and had traditional Dalmatian meals for lunch in a little restaurant built against the original Roman wall. The table we chose was butted up again the crumbling stones.

$$$$$ but hey, we’ve been saving money for a couple of weeks since generally everything is so cheap.

This evening we’re in a proper camp, parked up beside the sea. The bare mountains rising steeply behind us. Greg went for another swim, It’s a totally different day than this morning. A washing machine in the ladies bathroom! Sexist somewhat but we’re able to do a big wash. Take it when you can. Wifi so Greg can upload some photos.

Pre-dinner drinks and we read the Mercedes-Benz Club magazine from back home. It’s only just become available as an EMag. Really good timing for us. The internet is such an amazing tool. We’re away from our home and family but still feel connected. Regular messages or data calls with our kids and my mum. I can see photos from the Cookie Time conference, the first since we left but totally no regrets. And I can share our adventures as we have them, not save up 9 plus months worth to bore people with when we get home.

Later we’re eating yummy yummy fresh asparagus lightly cooked with capsicum and garlic, then topped with grilled halloumi and served with a peppery red wine. The setting sun is turning the hills pink. The sea is glassy and aqua coloured in the shallows. Greg rushes out to take photos. Pinching myself again. Life is good when you take pleasure in the now.

Have I travelled to the other side of the world to discover it is what is behind the eyes that determines how you see what is before you? Ummm I think I always knew that.

Greg, as a photographer, is such a visual person. The light and shadow intrigues him always. I look to the why and how, seeking understanding.

For the last few weeks I’m consciously trying to put it into words the images before me. Tonight the wine is loosing my fingers lol. The sky has now turned steel blue. Around the base across the bay occasional car lights send a beacon reflected in the waters between us. It is totally silent. There are flickering lights on the island out beyond us.

This country is both young and very old. It totally overwhelms my senses. And to think when I was planning this trip, Croatia was just a name, just a ‘ we will spend some time here to off set our visa requirements in the Schengen area’. It deserves so much more. It tugs the emotions, mine at least.

The Croatian people are proud but in some ways the only reason they have survived as a nationality is due to two people, Gregory of Nin who preserved their language and Marcus Marulic who preserved their literature. Life is like that. So many ‘what if’s’. So many ‘just because ‘ or ‘ by the grace of……’. A good lesson, live every day like it could be your last. But hedge your bets because it mightn’t be. Haha haha

Humanity, we are one but we are individual. On a global level as well as a personal.

Going to stop typing now and do the dishes. Might just push ‘publish’ first. Haha tomorrow a gift not a guarantee.

Wednesday 3rd April

We explored the upper edges of Krka and paid to go into a different area, Roski Slap. Love that name. This is more terraces than falls. Looks like overflowing paddy fields.

Halfway along there is a side path climbing up 517 stairs to a cave and lookout point. The cave seems just an ordinary cave, though there are bats in it. But what fascinated me about it was Archaeologists found tools, pots and graves showing continuous human occupation from 6000BC to 1550BC. That’s a very long time and a very very long time ago.

To get to the cave we climbed up a cantilevered staircase up the cliffs. Yes , we ended up closer to the top than the bottom but water, that essential ingredient for life is at the bottom. How did those people come and go? Yes the cliffs have probably changed and maybe the bottom wasn’t so far down back then. A balancing act between convenience and security.

From the lookout we peered down upon the lakes and falls. Some large birds, either Karst Falcons or Short toed Eagles floated on the thermals then some smaller, swifter ones turned up. Whipping around on the air currents. Peregrine Falcons from what I read later.

Going down is easier than going up was but going down you notice more the overhanging boulders and perilous drops.

There is a proper waterfall into the lake with old mill houses around. I spot a small snake. It’s seen me first and is high tailing it for cover.

After a picnic lunch we carry on. The road, in moderate condition suddenly becomes narrow, barely wider than the van as it passes through a village. More ruins than lived in. Large crumbling industrial buildings on the outskirts. Questions. Was industry here better under communist rule? Were these wartime businesses? Where have the people gone?

We pass an old lady herding a mixed group of goats and sheep. She’s bent and grizzled, rough boots, woollen stockings, skirt or dress topped with a woollen jumper and a scarf over her head. Her dog chases our van down the street barking.

A quick stop at a Market, like a tiny supermarket, size of a convenience store. I buy fresh bread, a great cowpat of sourdough, a couple of tomatoes still on their vine and two cans of cider. 24 kuna. That’s €3.24 or NZ$5.25.

Some areas we pass make me think of Rangitoto, stunted trees growing out of rocks. But this land is old. Before you can plant a crop the field needs to be cleared of rock and stone, more than enough to build enclosing walls.

Another section of the park and more waterfalls. These ones have large vertical drops. A steep canyon gouged out between horizontally striped cliffs. The track leads right to a lookout and left down to the falls. We do both. The track down is a steep serpentine, smooth stones under foot. More Peregrine Falcons soar overhead. I’ve discovered there is a falconry centre down by the coast. Will have to check it out. Amazing watching them. Sometimes they just hover in place, their tail feathers slightly spread. Then they arch their wings and speed off.

Down by the falls there are more abandoned mill buildings. We scramble around exploring. A path leading off takes us around a cliff face. Huge boulders lie where they have fallen. Greg is determined to find another snake and succeeds, finding one hiding in the stone wall along the path. He moves some stones, trying to get a good photo but it slithers in deeper.

Back to the van and we decide to stay here the night. Time is our own. We’ll continue exploring tomorrow, go to the Falconry centre then down to Split.

That’s a first. Other freedom campers. A Spanish trio with a dog. 2 second pop up tents according to the writing on the side of the bags. Greg timed them, 2 seconds to pop up another 10 minutes to peg it down. I’m liking the luxury of an proper bed and indoor plumbing.

Morning and more exploring. Roman ruins. A military camp plus a partly reconstructed amphitheater. A stone arch. More waterfalls. The country vistas is still the most breathtaking thing to look at.

Narrow cracked roads, dodgy looking bridges. Greg’s taken to driving on the right really well in this big van. No errors yet. The only thing so far is when we pull off somewhere to turn around he goes clockwise not anticlockwise. But that’s not a biggie.

The Fortress

4th April

When I was looking for something else, Google had mentioned a medieval fortress with a couple of interesting looking photos. Not a lot of information about how to access it but we realised we were somewhat close so decided to check it out.

We found ourselves on a very skinny dirt track. Every time we pass a farm gate we roll the dice that there will be another spot we could turn around. Ended up reversing a hundred odd metres back up a hill after we pushed our luck too far. Never mind, we’d caught a glimpse of our destination.

Parking on a bit of grass we proceeded on foot scrambling our way across scree and rocky outcrops sometimes small paths, maybe goats. Reaching the outer walls, we climbed through a hole and up a steep rocky outcrop to the base of the fortress and then inside.

This place is amazing. Scary too. Inside it’s about 10 metres across and looking out the opposite window it’s straight down to a valley floor and you realise the stone wall you’re leaning on is built right on the very edge. It’s windy today and the strong gusts just about knock you off your feet. There is a vibrant green valley and a lake is visible.

Google tells me it’s called Kljucica and was built in the 13th century by the Croatian Nelipic family to protect their estate from their rivals, the Subic family. In 1546 it was conquered by the Turks who ruled here until 1648.

Someone has built a wooden viewing platform around the outside of the round tower but the wood looks rotten and some of the supports are floating in air. There are a couple of dog leads anchoring it to a rock. We decide not to test it. Looking down is like looking off the Auckland sky tower and we don’t have any bungee cords.

We took a different route back to the van. Not any more formed but different views. Lunch then set the GPS for the Falconry Centre.

Sky hunters

The Dubrava Falconry Centre is firstly a Hospital for injured birds of prey. They also do work to ensure the survival of some endangered species. And they train falconers. The birds you get up close to are ones that cannot be released back into the wild and American Falcons specifically breed to be used for Falconry. We got to wander around then had a personal session with the professor.

Got up close and personal, like cheek to cheek, with an European Eagle Owl. She’s about 4 kilos and can take down prey 3 times her weight. Her claws work like a ratchet and lock on. Her large orange eyes means she can hunt both at night and during the day. She has amazing vision which with her hearing can mark out exactly where prey is up to several kilometres away.

Unfortunately it’s very windy today so no free flying but I got to catch on the glove an American Falcon. Feeding it second time around. Just awesome. He lands so lightly, his talons curving in slightly as he fights to get the chick out of my grip.

Pinching myself. These birds can never be domesticated. The relationship between handler and bird is on equal footing and understanding.

Parked up tonight on the Split peninsula. The sea is wild tonight. The wind whipping white caps on the waves. will check out the tourist spots tomorrow.

Tuesday 2nd April

Looking at the long range weather forecast we decide to change our loose plans. Instead of spending a couple of days exploring around Zadar, we’ll do it in one day, then skip down to Krka National Park to beat the rain.

First stop is a supermarket. This one is attached to a Mall. Suddenly you could be anywhere in the world. Although I’m beginning to despair of my clothing options, 2 choices of bottoms and 3 of tops, I’m not enthused to go clothes shopping. Groceries then we’re out of there.

Set course for Zadar, find parking, then wander down the hill to the old town. We’re getting critical, it’s not the nicest one we’ve experienced. The roads are wider, the buildings better cared for, the shops tourist focused. It is interesting to see classical Roman relics in place and know the site has been occupied since the 5th century but it’s a bit too clean, too presented. And lots of people! Nevertheless we loose ourselves wandering around, streets all smooth stones, plastered buildings with wooden shutters. Squares filled with tables and chairs, glimpses of the sea through archways and over the city walls.

The suburbia, where we parked was a brutal contrast. Minimalist Apartment blocks, scrappy laundry hung over fences and balconies. Betting agencies on every corner.

On the waterfront we find the Sea Organ. This was designed by a local architect, Nikola Basic, and uses the movement of the sea to create music. When a ferry or boat passes the wake increases the volume dramatically. Otherwise it’s quietly hypnotic. Nearby is another piece by him that uses solar power to create a light show representing the Solar system. You need to be there after dark to appreciate that one.

We then returned to our van and continued up the peninsula to a potential campsite, closed, then another and another. Now they are saying come back in May. Never mind, we’re free camping right outside the last one. He said ‘no one cares’. Would have liked wifi though. Our Vodafone plan clicks over tomorrow night and we’re both close to our limit.

A few more days in Croatia visiting Krka then Split and then we’ll head into Bosnia & Herzegovina.

Another beautiful morning….

We’re both sleeping really well. The bed comfortable and surprisingly roomy. Even after 35 years of living together, there is such pleasure in awaking side by side. And right now the knowledge that every sunrise is bringing a new day of discovery adds an exciting element.

Breakfast, a seaside walk, then we break camp and hit the road.

We drive south, winding our way through empty crumbling villages, past full cemeteries. The countryside alternating between rocky barren land and miles of orchards. Blocks of olives, grapes, plums and figs. There are unspoken stories here.

Roadworks. The tiny orange cones 20 metres apart. The roller driver in shorts and sandshoes. The worker leaning on his shovel within a cigarette in hand. A few orange jackets, dirty and faded. Your health and safety is your own concern here.

Then, like stepping over a line things change. Prosperity. We are nearing Krka National Park so the tourism dollar improves everything.

Free parking, just eat or drink in our Restaurant. No problem, due for coffee anyway.

Krka National Park. We pay 100 kuna each and board a boat for the 20 minute trip up to the start of the falls. Green, the trees and the water. A white heron wings past us and on ahead.

This isn’t like Plitvica. The boardwalks and tracks are more basic. You can step off them too, look for different viewpoints. There are concrete tables every few metres with hawkers selling nuts and oils. There are food stalls, restaurants and souvenir shops. There’s a coin operated turnstile on the toilets. The blacksmith building is selling tees ‘my Grandma went to Krka and all I got was this t-shirt’.

That being said, it’s still amazing, staggering. The waterfalls are more powerful, the pools turbulent. The volume of water is just staggering. I stand on a bridge, water fuming down at me from every angle before disappearing under my feet down a cauldron.

What looks like a grassy slope under trees has hundreds of small streams sweeping furiously around tree trunks and grass clumps.

A bigger drop thunders in your ears, eyes blinded by the white water.

A slower stream and you’re mesmerised by the vibrant green weed undulating under the water.

You can swim in the pool below the bottom waterfall. At this time of year only a few hardy fools braving the chilled water, making sure someone is capturing their efforts for the ‘gram.

We chat to some Americans, they were both born here. Revisiting the homeland. A quick google tells me lots of Croatia’s emigrated after WW1 and WW2 and in the 1990’s. Three wars have had some major effects on this country and its people.

And Greg’s photos –