bumpy bus rides to far off places

I’m jolted awake as the bus hits a bump in the windy mountain road. My eyes take a moment to adjust, and I’m pleasantly surprised that we’ve escaped the snowcapped, ragged cliffs and full forests of frozen Sarajevo. The sun shines brightly outside my window, bringing a sparkle to the copper saturated, bright green rivers that meander through the region’s towering Dinaric Alps. 

The bus is heating up in the sun, and I’m sleepy enough that the bus seat feels analogous to my bed — both a bit stiff, a few lumps here and there, but overall welcoming after a long stint of adventure. 

And wow, what an adventure this weekend was.

We set off for Mostar early Saturday morning, packs full of clothes, snacks and knickknacks on our backs down the endless stairs to the bus stop. Full of excitement, we chatted through the twisting Adriatic coast, through three border check points, off the bus and through the rain to Mostar’s Stari Most (old bridge), built by the Ottomans in the 16th century. After a guided tour through Mostar’s cobble stone streets, we hopped back in the bus towards Blagaj, a smaller town about twenty minutes from Mostar. 

In Blagaj, we explored a natural spring erupting from the depths of a cave, set deep in the shadow of a towering mountain face. Ditching our mucky shoes and donning headscarves, my travel companions and I walked through the ancient mosque that sits atop the spring, marveling at the bright carpeted floors, stained glass ceilings, and whitewashed walls. 

From Blagaj, eight of us hired a private driver to take us through the snowstormy mountains to Sarajevo. Our airbnb host welcomed us into our penthouse suite with glasses of homemade rakija, the local liquor (a type of fruit brandy, in this case, pear). Truly located in the center of Sarajevo, our apartment was just down the street from the Eternal Flame, a memorial of the recent wars, and a ten minute walk from the old Ottoman village that forms the heart of the city. 

 

We spent Sunday tasting sticky sweet baklava, learning to properly pour teacups of bitter Turkish coffee, overindulging on bright tapestries and shiny copper treasures, and picking up souvenirs for our loved ones back home. 

And now, here I am, spending my Monday on this bus, writing to you.

love from somewhere near the Bosnian-Herzegovinian & Croatian border,

shonabell