A change of mode

Falling in with Adam and Dez meant that we were now all travelling in 'Norm', which they'd driven thus far from the UK. We took it very easy on our first day together - they'd been on the move for a few days, covering a lot of ground in order to catch up with me. Adam and I went for a long stroll throuh the little village we were in, observing how just about every house was growing a combination of produce. A swim in the sea was a nice prelude to dinner, which was cooked in Norm and complimented well with some drinks I'd brought with me for the occasion.

We made three stops on our first day on the road. Zadar was a beautiful place, set on a mostly flat island, but was very touristy. Sibenik was a gem, a conglomerate of narrow laneways on a fairly steep hillside. We caught a boat that night from our camp site across to Trogir. Trogir was similar to Zadar in being an old city on a flat island, but to me had a lot more charm. The laneways were narrower and less grand. We had a nice dinner that night, ostensibly for Dezarae's birthday, the highlight of which was a black (squid ink) risotto. It's on the menu all down this Adriatic coast, but one we had more recently proved how bad they can be.

Split was next on the itinerary, the major city of the region. In the centre of town is an old palace that dates back to the roman era. It's quite well preserved, and was a pleasant place to stroll around within. I got some dried figs from the market - they use beam balances and weights to weigh everything! A nice touch, but I'm sure many a tourist gets stung.

We stayed at a camp ground right by the water, not far south of Split. It really is an incredible coastline. The sea is punctuated with islands and jutting peninsulas, then turn around and limestone mountains rise up hundreds of metres, often in striking ridge lines and sheer cliffs.

We went away from the sea after this. The morning started with another sour cherry strudel - they're everywhere, and fantastic. Then we crossed the border into Bosnia and Herzegovina. First stop was Mostar, which had a beautiful old centre - though a lot of it is rebuilt. Shrapnel wounds on the buildings are a very common site. It was quite touristy actually, and my thoughts were that seeing something first hand is always different to the opinion you form of somewhere from the media.

In Sarajevo the next day, seeing men cut the grass with a sickle was to me an image and indication of a country still 'catching up'. The tram ride into town was interesting, observing the people as well as the buildings outside, some intact merely covered in shrapnel wounds, others damaged so badly only a skeleton remained, and brand new German car dealerships next to it all.

The city still has a lot of beautiful old buildings, but shrapnel wounds are ubiquitous. Observing all the mosque's, churches and synagogues next to each other goes some way to explaining many of the problems that have arisen in the region. I did a tour that focused on the most recent war, but it didn't provide a great deal of insight. I, of course, went to the place where Franz Ferdinand was assassinated. I saw a couple of Sarajevo Roses, which are particularly large shrapnel wounds in the ground that were filled in with a red resin. Apparently a famous poet labelled the people of Sarajevo as roses. I felt very uncomfortable taking a photo of one of the more public ones - I'm sure a lot of locals would be offended at the tourists interest in such horrible events that were so recent. But personally, I only wish to gain some understanding of what it must have been like, which is a difficult thing, having grown up in such comfort and safety.