Bosnia and Herzogovina

Bosnia and Herzegovina is at the center of a black hole in most people’s mental maps.  When Yugoslavia disintegrated in the 90s the region erupted into a vicious and complicated war.  Tales of cities under siege, massacres and humanitarian crises are what stick in people’s minds even today.  I can even remember talking about Sarajevo with my friends when I was in 6^th grade.  I believe the topic was whether or not the ‘j’ was silent.  In any case, it was the first conflict I remember learning about growing up and I still know very little about the Balkans.  I only vaguely recall Yugoslavia’s existence from watching the Olympics; after that it’s war and not much else.  With this in mind, I was excited to visit and learn more about what happened and how the place evolved into what it is today.

Here’s a quick, very basic history lesson.  I mean very basic, because it was a very complicated war.  I’ll probably make some mistakes here.

Yugoslavia was formed out of the ashes of WW1.  Prior to WW1 the region was under Austro–Hungary rule. This changed when members of a Serbian independence movement assassinated the Heir to the throne, which was a major catalyst leading to WW1.  The independence movement was trying to establish the country of Serbia which would look something like Yugoslavia.  Between WW1 and WW2 Yugoslavia was ruled by a Serbian family who had established a royal dynasty.   After WW2, Yugoslavia turned to communism and was ruled by a moderate dictator named Josip Tito from 1946-1980.  Yugoslavia was made up of six semi-autonomous states and was run as a federation.   Those states were known as Bosnia and Herzegovina, Slovenia, Macedonia, Montenegro, Serbia and Croatia.  There were also two semi-autonomous provinces known as Vojvodina and Kosovo. 

After Tito’s death, the country ran into financial problems and the new leaders had a hard time keeping everyone happy.  Nationalism was on the rise which led to independence movements.  Yugoslavia began to fall apart along the six autonomous state lines.  Backed by the Yugoslav army (minus the many, many defections), Serbia attempted to keep the country together in order to protect Serbs in those areas.  Slovenia and Macedonia left peacefully with their respective Slovene and Macedonian majority populations.  Montenegro stuck with Serbia.  The states of Croatia and Bosnia erupted into war with their blended populations.   Militias were formed and military barracks raided for arms as new leaders attempted to find allies in the fight and furnish their armies.

Eventually, with the help of foreign intervention and after a host of atrocities committed by all sides, Croatia and Bosnia got their independence with the signing of the Dayton Peace Agreement.  Montenegro separated peacefully and Kosovo began their (ongoing) struggle to succeed from Serbia.  Only Vojvodina in the northeast remained loyal to Serbia (the regional capital is Novi Sad).

And with that, we have what we collectively call the Balkans and who themselves prefer not to be referred to as the Balkans.  Too much baggage with that term I suppose.   Anyhow, I think that synopsis is accurate enough.  If you want to sort through the tangle further: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yugoslavia.

“Bosnia is some sort of wonderland!” –Citizen of Mostar

We rolled into the country on a crisp January morning and pedaled through a stunning canyon on our way to Visegrad.   Visegrad is located in the southeast of the country and is known for its beautiful Ottoman bridge spanning the clear and blue Drina River. The Drina itself is famous for excellent white-water rafting and fishing.  We were welcomed into Guesthouse Jelena with cups of tea and cake, followed later by a homemade dinner.  We kept the stay pretty relaxed, wandering down to the old bridge and through the town only once in 4 days.  The rest of the time we watched tv with our feet up, mentally preparing for the ride to Sarajevo.  The good weather pattern we’d enjoyed in Serbia had broken, and we woke up to snow on our second day in Visegrad.  On day 4 we began pedaling up a high mountain road, doing exactly what we were cautioned against doing.  Local advice is always to be taken with a grain of salt.  Most people wouldn’t ride a bike to the store, let alone across Europe in winter.  So after being told it wasn’t possible, we asked a simple question:  ‘do cars go this way in winter?’  ‘Yes, of course!’ was the answer, which was the answer we were looking for.   We cycled up a wet road until about 900m, then a snowy and slick road up to 1285m.  The bikes skidded around, we had to jump off a few times and even push, but we made it over the high pass and returned to civilization via a web of snowy rural logging roads.  That night we stayed in a remote cabin near the town of Rogatica with a lovely family who worked hard to break through our language barrier.

On day 5 we woke up, ate breakfast and completely ignored our hosts’ reaction to our planned route (‘that way?  Oh no…no no no’).  We hopped on our bikes and headed off down some quiet farm roads in the sunshine.   Soon, the pavement turned to dirt, the sunshine turned to cloud, the dirt turned to snowy grass and the clouds turned to rain.  It was meant to be a short day, but we spent 6km pushing our bikes up an overgrown road through a foot of snow in the rain.  Soaked and exhausted we finally found our way to a farm road at the end of the canyon we’d trudged up.  The rain had stopped and we weren’t far from the B&B we’d booked for that night (we camped very little in Bosnia due to the ongoing landmine situation).  As we pedaled down the road, we noticed the temperature suddenly drop as black clouds began pushing over the mountains.  We barely had time to put our rain gear back on before we began getting pelted with large hail.  The hail lasted a few minutes as the winds picked up and snow began falling.  Within 10 minutes we were in a full scale blizzard!  The temperature, which was 15C at 10am, dropped to -4C.  Already damp from the rain, we started to shiver as we pedaled into the storm.  We only had 10km to go, but in the wind and with the treacherous roads it took over an hour and a half to get there.  Cars and plows were passing us with looks of shock, some taking cell phone videos.  We arrived at the B&B totally soaked, shivering and completely exhausted.  Nearly 10cm of snow had fallen by that time.  We treated ourselves to a steak dinner at the restaurant.  

 

From the B&B in Sokolac it was a day’s ride to Sarajevo.  The sun was out again, temperatures had warmed to about 4C and the roads were just wet.  We had a nice ride through a winter wonderland and into Sarajevo via a chilly and icy backroad.  We stayed in Sarajevo for 6 days, much of the time wandering around looking for historical places from WWI and the war of independence.  We visited the spot where Franz Ferdinand was killed, sparking WWI, and contemplated the mortar holes in apartment blocks and sidewalks.  If someone was killed by a mortar which hit a sidewalk, the blast mark was often filled with a red resin and is known as a Sarajevo Rose.   We also visited the Sarajavo ‘Tunnel of Hope’, an 800m tunnel dug by hand between two houses and under the UN controlled airport.  This tunnel served as a lifeline to the city, allowing food and arms to be transported in.  It was hard work and the supplies were meager, but it kept the city fed and they were able to defend themselves.

 From Sarajevo we pedaled on to Konjic, pedaling up a steep pass then bombing down the other side on a 10km long descent along a narrow canyon wall.  In Konjic we took a room at a hostel.  The owner cooked us dinner (on the house) and gave us a quick rundown of the town and walked with us for part of the way explaining what it was like to be a 9 year old during the war.  The next morning we had a hearty breakfast and hit the road to Mostar.  It was all highways, but it wasn’t too busy, which was nice since we had about a dozen tunnels to pass through along the way.  The highway wound its way along the shores of a big reservoir, trapping the once wild Neretva River behind a dam.  Above the lake high craggy peaks loomed.  Beyond the dam the river was set free again on a long winding course through deep limestone canyons and eventually to the city of Mostar.   Mostar is another city that was sieged by the Serbs and then again by the Croats.  Ruins are everywhere and the hills are covered in landmines and unexploded mortars.  Here the Neretva River lazily flows under the most famous bridge in Bosnia, the high arching Ottoman Stari Most.  The bridge was shelled into the river during the war, but in 2006 it reopened, rebuilt from the same quarry the Ottomans used along with blocks salvaged from the river.  It’s a really big deal for Mostar to have their bridge back and it healed one of the gravest wounds inflicted during the war.  The people of Mostar are moving on.  Apparently it’s more divided than Sarajevo, but you wouldn’t know it walking around, it’s just what we’ve read. 

From here we had 143km left in Bosnia, along the Ciro Trail.  The thin line we threaded from the southeast to the southwest was a wonderful ride, but we definitely felt like we’d missed too much.  Bosnia has so much natural beauty and history blended together with a friendly and open population. That man in Mostar was right; Bosnia really is some sort of wonderland.