Woolly says – Bit of a first this morning as I heard the call to prayer quickly followed by a cacophony of bells ringing in the morning sunshine, squinting through my one semi open eye to the outside world I realised that our latest hostel was situated next to a mosque and opposite a church…..might need ear muffs! Our journey had taken us along some of the most beautiful coast lines I have ever seen before turning towards the mountains and the heavy thunder and rain which greeted our arrival in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The Republic of Bosnia-Herzegovina was at the heart of the former Yugoslavia geographically and culturally. First mentioned in Byzantine sources in the early tenth century as one of the polities that had emerged from Slav settlements on the territory of the Roman Empire. The mediaeval Bosnian state reached its high point in the fourteenth century, but in the following century it was incorporated into the expanding Ottoman Empire….yep were sticking with the Turks! It sought international recognition, which it achieved on 6th April 1992 following an internationally supervised referendum in which the great majority of its population voted in favour of independence. Things however didn’t go to plan due to the aggression waged from the neighbouring republics of Serbia and Croatia, with the aim of carving out an ethnically pure Greater Serbia and Greater Croatia at Bosnia’s expense. The Bosnian population of all ethnic backgrounds suffered gravely during the 1992-95 war.
Hoping to save ourselves from anymore history I shuffled my small friend out of our room and set him on the path for finding breakfast.
Woolly says – Breakfast wasn’t quite the egg and soldiers I had expected but the spinach and cheese pie was tasty and given the size of the helping would probably keep me going until lunchtime! As we feasted I sat looking at the lovely old bazaar of Mostar, the city grew from a simple crossing point on the Neretva River to an important crossroads settlement and provincial capital in the Ottoman Empire, the Turkish influence was everywhere, in fact it was rather like being at home in Alanya! With this in mind it seemed sensible to visit the Koski Mehmed Pasa Mosque which was rebuilt in 1618, as I ambled into the courtyard there were plenty of small shops for the tourists to spend their marks (Bosnian ones that is) with the washing station situated in the middle I took a small gap in the constant flow of human traffic to dash into the mosque itself. Inside was really sweet with simple paintings decorating the walls and dome and some wonderful primary coloured stained glass windows, as Jo proceeded to wear the camera button out I looked at the steep steps leading to the top of the minaret, it seemed that opportunity had favoured me and I started my climb.
Seeing the mammoths tail disappear upwards I realised that I had no choice to follow, although I have never had the opportunity to go to the top of a minaret before I also knew that my fear of heights wasn’t going to make it easy.
Woolly says – the steps where just the right size for me and as I climbed metre after metre I knew that I couldn’t be far from the top, jumping through the small doorway I was met with the most spectacular view of the famous Old Bridge as well as the surrounding buildings, it was magnificent. The green flowing river nearly matched Jo as she popped out of the darkness and immediately clung onto the wall. I raced round the tiny circular space until I became dizzy and had to sit down for a quick snack!
The view was incredible but the distance between me and the ground didn’t feel so great, having finally convinced the furry one of the need to climb back down he seemed happy to bounce his way down each step.
Woolly says – Jo appeared in slightly better condition when she finally caught up and being the amazing tour guide that I am I quickly led my small group round a couple of corners and into a cemetery. Coming into the city last night I had noticed the thousands and thousands of headstones, this was just one small section of them, each stone carried a date from either 1991, 1992 or 1993 so many people who had lost their lives to bring peace to this wonderful little city. I noticed Jo taking a picture of some of the graves with the building behind pockmarked with shell and missile damage, very sobering.
In our travels this is the first time where we have really seen any damage or realised the extent of the carnage that a country can suffer, so many buildings still show signs of the years of bombardment that they endured.
Woolly says – having paid our respects I trotted in front of the girls towards the Museum of Herzegovina, whilst Jo and Zoe were handed headsets I galloped off to view the exhibits, five minutes later and I appeared to have finished! Three floors with around ten items for floor, nice enough costumes but not much for your mark. The women had both sat down to listen to the audio tour, it took forever for them to finish by which time I had had a further two snack breaks! Finally we set off once more and I was more than happy to head into the cool interior of the observation tower that had once guarded the Old Bridge on the East side of the river. The tour took us past the brief history of Mostar and upwards to the observation deck which gave us yet another wonderful view to behold, the exit required us to return down all the steps to the bottom but apparently the tour wasn’t over and a lovely Bosnian man pointed me towards a gate and the original foundations of the bridge.
I managed to catch up with him as he sat watching a video detailing the history and reconstruction of the famous landmark.
Woolly says – Stari Most (Old Bridge) is the reconstruction of a 16th-century Ottoman bridge that connected the two parts of the city, it was commissioned by Suleiman the Magnificent in 1557 to replace an older wooden suspension bridge of dubious stability. The Old Bridge stood for 427 years until it was destroyed on 9th November 1993 by Croat forces during the War. A project was set in motion to reconstruct it and the rebuilt bridge opened on 23rd July 2004. The Stari Most is hump-backed…no that’s nothing to do with whales! 4 metres (13 ft 1 in) wide and 30 metres (98 ft 5 in) long and a height of 24 m (78 ft 9 in). Many people refer to it as the arch of a rainbow in shape, all I knew that it was very steep to climb over it!
Leaving the cool underground passages and old foundations behind we found ourselves back in the crowded bazaar, climbing back over the bridge was problematic with slippy marble stones to slide on and tourists to dodge, I kept a tight hold on the mammoth.
Woolly says – I was perfectly alright and had wanted to watch the man jumping off the bridge, it is traditional for young men to leap from the great height into the water below to show their prowess, well I didn’t mind watching them but had no intention of joining them! Having been denied this delight we made our way up the steps into the second observation tower and a photographic display compiled by Wade Goddard a New Zealander who spent many years in Mostar taking the incredible pictures from the conflict that were now in front of me. Scenes of destruction and families going about life with bullets flying over their heads, queuing for water and dazed faces at the situation that they found themselves in, the black and white work was most moving and an excellent reflection of how life had been. The sun was still blazing down as we left the pictures behind and with my paws starting to ache it seemed a great idea to sample one of the local ice creams….hmmmm now shall I have green apple, pineapple, mango or Pistachio!!!!!