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Another day of exploring the Bosnian countryside is coming to an end. Mike and I are back in Mostar, our rental car is safely and legally parked on a narrow backstreet (A huge relief), and it's time for dinner.
We pick a restaurant on a terraced hillside. Our secluded perch is far enough away from the main thoroughfare that we can hear frogs cheeping in the verdant canopy. We're here during a heat wave and are thankful for the trees that provide shade making it the coolest and most pleasant part of our day.
Night has set in as dinner comes to an end and twinkles of light prick the inky sky. It's still relatively early and it’s a shame to head back to our room, so Mike and I grab a bench along the cobblestone streets of KujundÅžiluk (The Old Bazaar).
This area, a pedestrian zone, is home to coppersmith studios, galleries selling original art, and shops hawking t-shirts and other tourist garb. Nearby, restaurant patios overlook the Neretva River. There are all of the right ingredients to draw people out and a pleasant buzz fills the air.
Mostar's famous bridge, Stari Most, forms our backdrop. This masterpiece, originally built in the 16th century, rises 130 feet above its base and gracefully traverses the river in a single arch. It is considered an exemplary piece of Balkan Islamic architecture and was brought back to life in 2004, 11 years after the original was destroyed during the Bosnian war.
Mostar is a land where spindly minarets poke skyward and share a skyline with Catholic and Orthodox church towers and a synagogue. They say the bridge is a symbol of unity connecting the Muslim and Orthodox sides of the city. Is this land a true blending of cultures in harmony or is it a place of thinly disguised animosity? The truth? Locals will tell you that this, along with much about the war and the situation in the Balkans, is complicated. The romantic in me (And probably the tourist board) likes to think that all is good so I adopt a Pollyanna attitude and get wrapped up in the scene.
From here, scars of war are hidden, and all I see are happy unified people. Gaggles of teenagers giggle and eat ice cream cones in sensible European sized portions. Families, local and tourist alike, take part in evening perambulations. Women in head scarves share the pathways with people decked out for the clubs. Everyone strolls easily.Ali-Baba is nearby (It is literally a club in a cave) and is getting ready to welcome revelers. Its neon lights start to pulse and the club begins pushing the bumpin’ tunes out of the speakers. At the same time, the call to prayer warbles from minarets and it's hard not to be captivated by the haunting voice summoning the faithful to pause for a moment of worship. These contrasting sounds intermingle and are joined by hundreds of voices speaking in who knows how many languages. So many different sensations ricochet off of my eardrums, the familiar and the exotic, the natural and the electronic all jumble into one. To steal words from Neil Diamond, it's a beautiful noise.
Nothing special or remarkable happened tonight. There was no epic Michelin Star meal, great concert, or other memorable happening. It was nothing more than taking part in all of the simple “ing” activities – enjoying, being, observing, seeing, imagining, connecting, lounging, dreaming, smiling.
It is a beautiful and alluring feeling in a vividly fanciful setting. A heartfelt sense of excitement and awe wash over me. I feel alive and fully enmeshed in my surroundings. Inwardly I'm giddy but outwardly I'm serene. True moments of stoke like this are all too rare in “real" everyday middle age life. The magic of travel is real.
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More travel sketches
- A postcard from Slovenia - http://annvinciguerra.blogspot.com/2018/11/postcard-from-slovenia.html
- Three sentence travel story - Italy - http://annvinciguerra.blogspot.com/2017/10/three-sentence-travel-story.html
- Taking the night train - Belgrade to Bar - http://annvinciguerra.blogspot.com/2013/08/riding-810-pm-night-train.html
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