Skip to main content

Back in Hrvat(ska) or a comedy of errors

Sarajevo/Mostar/Split - 30/08/2010

In parts of Sarajevo you could be forgiven for thinking you were in some quaint Bavarian town such are the pockets of picturesque to be found there. Its sights are few and pockmarked with bullet holes and even having seen them there is a sense you are missing something of the place. The real gem lay to the south. Constructed by the Turks in the 1500s, blown up by the Serbs in the 90's, it stands over the Neretva river fully restored and fully worthy of a visit. Solid towers suspend a high, arcing bridge 21 metres up. Locals will cheerfully throw themselves off it after a whip round has produced sufficient Kuna (I think they accept euros too, no cards.
Heading again for the border and the rest of our Croatia leg a couple of nice gentlemen with 'Polizi' on their uniform flagged us down, "Documents". Speeding apparently. Michael 'James Bond' Hartles was diplomatic and admonishment delivered we were let go without a fine, fortune smiled on us (or so we thought). The Croatian police proved more intractable. A seemingly safe overtaking move fell foul of their road markings and once again we had the long arm of the law beckoning us to stop. No amount of innocent tourist charm could persuade these guys to let us off and a 500 kuna fine was duly levied. Nearing Split we pulled over outside a campsite. Deciding that this would be our home for the night a minor misjudging of kerb location induced a scraping, grinding halt. And one flat tyre. As Mike got handy with his jack (once I had established the correct orientation) I supervised and mused on what other tricks fate's cruel hand might play. The spare tyre needed air and the campsite owner directed us to a garage a curiously long way up the coast. I got started with tent erection while Mike sought air. As the rain really started coming down he returned having inflated the tyre and had (from the directions) also located our nearest compressed gas distribution centre. Quite why the camp owner thought we wanted to buy gas canisters wholesale is a mystery I will never solve. We sheltered from the rain under a sun shade savouring our dinner of red wine and peanuts. Once sufficient quantities of the vino been imbibed the lure of the sea was too much. Swimming out to the nearest anchored boat we laboured to climb aboard and, bobbing gently in the Adriatic, could only smile at our day of mishap. To complete the circle on returning to shore it appeared our clothes had been half-inched from under our noses. Extensive and frantic searching revealed that someone had left them by the tent, likely us. Still, on the bright side my bag is now lighter given that I threw my shoes into the sea.
Labels:
Location: Split, Croatia

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts

The Duke

Pub review They say: "We came for a skittle on a Saturday night and they were very welcoming but you know how you hear about lizards ruling the world, the barstaff had a very lizardy look. Make your own mind up!" --Craig Savage 4/5 I say: 'The place where everybody knows your name' The claim is painted onto the wall and doesn't seem so outlandish on this chilly Tuesday night as there is no-one in the pub to know my name or not. Dry January? I can't imagine that's a thing around these parts. You don't keep over 30 pubs in business with virtuous gestures like that. It might be a Tuesday thing. Per usual I try to find a quiet corner with my beer, surely an easy task in an empty pub? Not so. Speakers hang from every nook and carpet the space in a thick fog of sound. It isn't even the usual autotuned pop/R&B dirge being vomited into my ears. That stuff I can confine to a background hum. Instead it's the pre-match commentary for the Brighto...
Post a Comment
Read more

Sisyphean Airlines

Day 56 - Panama City We nearly didn't make it into this slip of a country. Cruel fortune had us standing in the queue for the only Panamanian border officer who had read and decided to adhere to the rules. "Return ticket?" bugger.  His steely, uncompassionate gaze was unmoved by our desperate explanations of our travel 'plans'. Bribery also failed to move him to endorse our entry so our bus driver, with infinite generosity, offered to relieve us of another $36 to write up a return ticket to San José that we would never use. This finally satisfied the entry requirements and the stamp thumped down. The country is divided by a synonymous strip of water down which floats a not insignificant quantity of the world's goods. Though our initial plan was to dive the canal, renovations kiboshed that idea and we had to settle for the traditional topside view.  On initial viewing the city itself seems built on the wealth its transoceanic connection brings.  Buildings soa...
Post a Comment
Read more

Angkor Whaaaaat?

Day 5 - Siem Reap With the water festival finished we has one more place to visit in Cambodia. Angkor Wat is an indisputable wonder of the world and the largest religious monument ever constructed. It sits within a temple complex covering 400km², the scale of which is impossible to adequately describe. Its towers seem to rise organically from the ground, the stone flowering from the earth into wonderfully symmetric form. Only modern capitalism and totalitarian hubris seem to inspire similar architectural endeavour as the gods did in the past. I don't necessarily agree with any of those ideologies and their human cost but religion's diminished power permits me a less coloured appreciation of its monuments. In the stone of Angkor Wat you see reflected the same desire for, and defiant belief in, permanence that runs through our species. I see it in the chiselled signage above the entrance to long dead banks and businesses in the City of London. The owners thought the gilded lobb...
Post a Comment
Read more