The oldies are restless; they're not really beach-going types. Our ancestors may be from this village but these days it's just a small tourist spot. There's not much 'real work' going on as Dad puts it, and he's certainly not interested in this swimming and sitting in the sun business like I am. So we decide to head over the mountain and the not too distant border, to take in the Bosnian city of Mostar.   

Now I'd like to point out here that I'm driving and have been doing so all week.  This is quite significant given the fact that I've not driven a car since I left NZ in March and have not driven a manual since the farm ute - and now I'm having to do all of the above on the wrong side of the road!

The initial stress of this has been somewhat compounded by the fact that my 76-year-old father is a complete car nut and is filthy angry that he's not allowed to drive. So he sits there with his hand on the handbrake telling me how to drive.  News flash Dad - I don't give a toss about executing the perfect three-point turn, I'm actually just trying to stay on the correct side of the road, okay?  He's also extremely peeved that the rental car is a GM and not a Ford; apparently it makes all sorts of annoying noises - strange that a deaf man can detect engine noises that a person of perfect hearing cannot.

So off we head to Mostar - the day starts really well when my reversing and hill start does not meet the approval of the Rudy Papich Driving School.  Anyway Aunty manages to calm us down and before we know it we are waiting in line at the Bosnian border.

Aunty and Dad can't believe the ridiculousness of having to complete border controls to enter what used to be one country, and quite frankly sitting in the sun for 45 minutes waiting to give a guy my passport so he could give it back to me did seem a bit pointless, especially when everyone largely still speaks the same language - they just call it something different!  But that is what war does, and the city of Mostar still bears notable scars from the recent Yugoslav conflicts.

Mostar is interesting because you can pick the Muslim influence straight away, in the architecture and the people.  Modern day Mostar is largely comprised of those that define themselves as Bosniaks (Bosnian Muslims ) and Croats. According to my research the Serbian influence is now marginal following the war with Serbia which impacted Mostar throughout 1992.

However it was arguably the Croatians that did the most shameful damage to Mostar.  During the Croat-Bosniak conflict - yes a different war, but some like to call it the war within the war - the local Croatian army (funded by mother Croatia) took out the 427-year-old defining symbol of Mostar - Stari Most.

Stari Most meaning "Old Bridge" was built during the Ottoman era, and its bombing was no doubt intended to stick it to the Muslims. This is of course on top of the supposed ethnic cleansing, rape and other war crimes that went on. 

As I said war is indeed a nasty business - as you will be able to see from the photos.  What you will also be able to see is that, with some help from various organisations such as UNESCO and countries including Turkey and Croatia (good work Croatia), Star Grad has been re-constructed.

I might add that because they stayed true to the original construction techniques and used the same local stone the bridge is extremely slippery and difficult to walk on!  It looks great though.

Mostar is truly worth a visit - you can zip in from the Croatian coast in a just a few hours and take in some lovely countryside on the way.  Dad and Aunty and I decided to go home a different way and got horribly lost, much to Aunty and I's delight and dear father's disgust!  I've given dad enough grief however so I better leave it there...

Sayonara,

Lenska

Find out about Croatia and Bosnia-Hercegovina.

Read more of Lenska's journeys.