After leaving Dubrovnik, we found ourselves at the Croatia / Bosnia and Herzegovina border. It was a low-key, dusty affair. The border represents the divide between the European Union and the states to the east who have not reached the point where the EU will accept them.
The view from the window of our hotel. We had an excellent view of some of the most historic places in Mostar.
The famous Stari Most. This 16th century Ottoman bridge was destroyed by sustained shelling during the war. The proprietor of our hotel videotaped the destruction from one of the rooms in the hotel. The bridge has been reconstructed in the last few years and now is a major tourist attraction. Hopefully it will stand for another several hundred years before it gets blown up again.
A panorama of the bridge and surrounding area.
Walking along the main tourist strip. Back when Stari Most was the main bridge in Mostar, this was an important road.
The entrance to the bridge.
Looking upriver from Stari Most toward one one of the main mosques in Mostar.
The old buildings lining the road to Constantinople from Stari Most.
Heading down the bridge toward the other side of town.
A ruined building that hasn’t been rebuilt since the war. There are many such buildings in Bosnia and Herzegovina.
Bullet hole pockmarks still line many of the buildings.
One of the main mosques.
Another building awaiting renovation. I wonder if some of the issues of derelict buildings in Bosnia and Herzegovina are similar to those in Tunisia where the owners have not been found or no longer have interest in the building.
Dramatic afternoon stormclouds began to roll into the valley.
Stari Most from another view.
Suddenly the tourist road was hit by intense downdrafts. Shopkeepers scrambled to reign in flying metal plates and other nicknacks.
We saw a wall of rain downriver and decided to find a place for a meal while the storm passed over us.
A small bridge on a tributary to the river.
We found an interesting restaurant on the other side of the small bridge. We also found that the bridge is named the Crooked Bridge because it is crooked. They have a way of descriptively naming things in Mostar.
We settled into the restaurant for a meal as the call to prayer echoed softly through Mostar.
The rain hit with a vengeance. There is a reason that this part of the world is so green.
Kristen ordered muscles and a range of other items.
Dark clouds passing overhead.
Kristen found an interesting stone circle.
On Stari Most once again looking upstream. The dark stormclouds continued inland and left us to enjoy a little afternoon sun.
Some of the tourist knick knacks for sale. It seems that anywhere the Ottomans had influence sells similar tourist wares.
The entrance to a mosque.
A beautiful view of Stari Most in the afternoon sun.
A gigantic cross on the hill above town. Were I to guess, I would wager that the cross was installed after the war.
Bullet holes in buildings.
Wrecked buildings next to repaired buildings.
This building appears to have been a cultural institution. It hasn’t been repaired.
Another bombed-out building.
Looking down at the river from one of the many bridges in town.
Kristen on a bridge upstream from Stari Most.
Graffiti proclaiming something.
Lots of bullet holes in this building.
Old sandbag fortifications still in place from the war.
A derelict highrise.
More blown-out buildings.
The wounds of war are still raw in this town.
There are many minarets in Mostar.
And there are many churches.
More graffiti or art of some sort.
Fancy sport touring bikes from Italy.
Another view of Stari Most from outside our hotel.
Enjoying the afternoon with a beer and a World Heritage Site view.
Blue sky peeking through.
There were plenty of signs like this around town in a variety of languages.
Lights turning on to illuminate the minarets at night.
The view from our hotel room at night.
On the four lane freeway near the Serbian border.
