Pero and his bike

utorak, 20.11.2018.

The first time with the girlfried to the coast

If you don't want to read, skip the text and see the images here.



To her,
the first one,
the last one,
the only one



After the river Tara and the bridge on it, nothing was the same in my life. I experienced the most beautiful moment of my life there. Gradually and slowly from my society and the environment the mental dignity of my name has been returned back to the right place.
At that time a multi-day bicycle ride was not normal and usual. That's why I have been characterized by people around me as a madman and eccentric, but impressed with the story and the photographs, they gradually diminished contempt and rejection towards me. It is obvious that the saga of the Tara River and the environment, only with one insignificant small part transferred on photographs and to the story, was strong enough (at least for the moment) that they were to impress them, even though they would not admit it.
But that was not important to me now because I finally realized that the problem was not in my mental system, but in theirs. Out of fear of the unknown and uncertain, they preferred to take on a safe everyday life, although it was gray and monotonous. At least it gave them a sense of (illusory) safeness. But for me, it was more important to continue with the direction I went. Now, when I was (probably) infected with the Byciclitis vulgaris virus for a lifetime, my wish was to continue even more, even better.
Only the joy is greater when it is shared. Only man who is alone wanders, but the pair always goes somewhere. For this reason, my next goal would was to find a similar soul to share with her what I have already experienced.
At that time, in the center of the Slavonski Brod town was something that I gladly recall today - the korzo. Korzo was a kind of open promenade for anyone who wanted to see or to be seen. No matter how rough, complicated or a busy day we had, at the evening we had to take a walk on that promenade. Unlike today's generation, we were going there no later than 8 pm. After that time, the crowd was slowly drifting away towards the cafés located in the two streets nearby. Beside their official names, they have been called the "Drunken Streets". Until these 8 o'clock, especially in the spring-fall season, the four rivers of young people (and the others ones) were walking, slow but persistent. And so, in these rivers, two drops were connected into one and continued to walk together on the promenade that winter 1985/86. They, those two drops, were talking about everything and everyone. As spring was aproaching the bike was being increasingly mentioned. And finally that spring has come. In the meantime, another bicycle was purchased and we were eagerly awaiting warmer days to finally ride our bikes. But instead of the warmer days, the first day of spring came with 20 centimeters of snow.
A horror!
Personally, I like snow. That's the only thing I like about winter . In that year, the winter was dry, but in the end it succeeded in its intention during these 3 months of unsuccessful trying - to cast snow from itself.
It is what it is.
It is necessary to reconcile with the situation. Luckly, we had enough words, glances, and gentle touches for the comfort. We survived those 10 days of late winter and in the end we finally met with warmer days with concrete actions. With every new ride something new and interesting was revealed (natural beauties and sights). By every kilometer and by every day spent on ride, the thrill and verve were growing.
As the summer was approaching by the speed of light, a couple of things from real life had to be done (cool-headed). There was a need for another saddlebags, and complete set of equipment, this time, for two people. An old rubber raincoat became a pair of new saddlebags by her and my hands, our eyes and smiles. The new equipment, however, had to be tested before the Great Journey, so we did. With our companions and by the railway, one-weekend-ride to the Plitvice Lakes.

For the first time together in the photo: a tent, and bicycles, and her – at the autocamp near Plitvice Lakes

When I mentioned this one-weekend-ride to Plitvice Lakes, here are a few photos of that ride, although it is not the theme of this story.
The bridge over the Korana River is 5-6 kilometers downstream from Plitvice Lakes...

...and a view of the Korana River from that bridge

One of the countless cascades on the Plitvice Lakes

Plitvice Lakes Hiking Trail

The highest waterfall on Plitvice Lakes (We are a couple in white shirts)

The goal of a Great voyage was to repeat my last year's drive to the Tara river.

THE EVENING AND THE NIGHT BEFORE THE FIRST DAY OF THE JOURNEY

You can see the map of that night of this journey here.

I only got two weeks of vacation, so we decided to get to Sarajevo town by train and the rest of the journey by bicycles. However, from Slavonski Brod town (our town) to Sarajevo town we needed to change the train in Vrpolje with a couple of hours waiting, so we decided to ride bycicle from Slavonski Brod town to Vrpolje town (33 km). The train to Sarajevo leaves at "00 hours and 30 minutes" (railway terminology), so we left Slavonski Brod town about 9 pm.
But the practical problems appeared immediately at the beginning of this ride.The happiness that God gave me in the form of her green-blue eyes, He charged me by a very bad weather. At the beginning of this journey the weather forecast was disastrous: bad with a tendency to deteriorate. All morning and a good part of the afternoon was raining. Just before the evening I grabbed a piece of dry weather to ride to her house - our starting point. Finally, we started our journey in the cloudy and a cold night. We were happy, it wasn't raining and it was great for us. The first hour and a half of the nightly ride, the weather was pleasant, we spent the ride in a cheerful chat. As the density of traffic was (almost) zero, after our eyes adjusted to darkness, the light of our lamps powered by bicycle generator was quite sufficient to illuminating the road.
And then, somewhere with no people around, where it was dark as in the horn, it began to rain. Initially, it was raining slowly, but progressively stronger and stronger, so we had to wear our raincoat. Even today, when I'm driving by night, I think it's three times darker when it's raining. Back then, while we were riding bikes at night, in the rain, there was no light anywhere around, no sign of any other people. Only darkness. Total darkness and the rain. I had the feeling that we were alone on the unknown empty planet in the dark, without light, without anyone alive, where it was raining for a million years and it will many years longer. Our lights are like pale candles, hardly illuminating the road, barely enough to see its edge.
At first, it seemed to me that I saw some lights in the distance. After blinking couple of times, I realised those were lights of some village. Yes!!! Finally the village of Vrpolje - a place where we will take a train to Sarajevo. This congition gave me extra strength to withstand a little more. Finally, we were aproaching to the board with name of the village. It is written on it - The village of Čajkovci!
What a disappointment!!!
I passed this road a hundred times earlier. But now this darkness and this rain made my desire stronger than my mind, so I completely forgot about that village. Now, when I saw the board, I remembered some village 4 km before the village of Vrpolje. So, we had to ride those endless 4 km more in this dark, on the rainy and extremely inhospitable planet. Somehow my companion had more elan, so when I told her how much more we must ride, she just said "Ok" and continued pedaling forward. I was slightly ashamed by my discouragement. Me, a real professional, this time comforted by an amateur.
It stopped raining 150 meters before entering the Vrpolje railway station. We had enough time till the train, so first we repaired the consequences of the surviving flood (changing wet clothes).
At that time bicycles were transported by train in a special wagon. At least half an hour before the train arrived , we had to give our bicycles to the special office at the train station and leave them there.
In return, we got the paper certificate by we will get our bicycles back in Sarajevo. Of coruse, the train was late about an hour, but when you are waiting with someone special that you are in love with, even waiting for the train to show up can be interesting and nice to the heart and very soul.
At that time the train was used much more than today, especially in the summer when a lot of people travel to the coast. At the same moment when I opened the wagon door, two sleepy passengers dropped out of it, showing us a huge crowd at the entrance of the wagon. It was so crowded in the whole wagon, and in the whole train. Either they felt sorry for us, as we were wet because od the rain, or because of the width of our smiles and the shine in our eyes, looked like two people in love, we got one square meter of space by the door for our saddlebags, baskets and other luggage as well as for ourselves. After we got in and closed the door, the train went into the long dark night. The saddlebags turned into soft comfortable seats on which we were sitting, hugged. As the train stopped at the stations, the passengers-optimists at the stations who were waiting for the train, would open the door, looked at us, and without any word would go to the next door of wagons with smaller and smaller faith in the possible entry into the train. By opening the wagon doors they realized that the train was full and is about to be fuller.
As the train was going, we were counting every minute of the journey, together with other travelers. We were eagerly expecting its end. However, our train was not in a rush as we were. On the contrary!
It seemed that our train was inspired by the beauty of surrounding darkness of the night. It was driving without any rush and was slowly crawling on the rails, with often stopping somewhere in between train-stations, in a completely dark night. For a long time with its senses, unknown to us, our train was listening the thick blackness of the night. Interestingly, as the train was driving, the dream was trying to close our eyes, but as soon as the train stopped, some kind of mental game was born to find the reason not to do that, and a thin web of dream was currently blown away. And so to the infinity: going, stopping, going, stopping, going, stopping...
And when it seemed to me that we will never come to the end of this night, in its darkness, slowly and gradually, the silhouettes of the surrounding hills suddenly appeared.
We were blinkingly watching that silhouettes, through the dirty window, a birth of a new day. Whatever it will be, it will be better than this night.

THE FIRST DAY OF JOURNEY

It was 6 o'clock in the morning. It was raining in the Sarajevo town all night. The rain stopped and wrapped the morning in the icily coldness. We were sleepy and tired, so that coldness caused a slight fever in us. Despite that, leaving the train at the daylight we experienced as a re-release to freedom from a long and heavy slavery.
We got our bicycles in exchange for the papers, hooked the luggage on bikes into an united whole and left the railway station and got out to the town. In the town there was a standard crowd. In the nearby bakery we bought some breakfast and after meal was done, we went slowly through the town to Ilidža place, on the west outskirt of town, where we entered a camp. We pitched the tent and got into it. We started a portable alcohol stove, better known as Primus, dried the sneakers and in the same time were heating up the interior of our little house.That day the maximum daily temperature did not exceed 13 degrees C, so after warming up, we jumped into the sleeping bag and we fell asleep like a log, after heavy events of the past 12 hours. One of the few benefits of a cold day was a plesant sleep in a warm sleeping bag.
Portable alcohol stove, better known as Primus (downloaded from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztx0UQe677U )

I'm just stopping my stories for a while to say the word about the portable alcohol stove. In previous rides to the coast, I was consuming dry (and cold) food. During these journeys, often (especially in the morning and in the evening) there was a longing for some hot morsel or sip. This time I wanted to be more prepared. As back then, there were no gas stoves in the market (or at least at a reasonable price), the need for the heat of the stove was solved with the portable alcohol stove. In a department store in my town at a relatively reasonable price I bought a nice stove that was finally packed into a box of dimensions about 10x10x5 cm.The nice look was the main advantage of my stove, as the heat power was symbolic. For heating (milk, egg) there was no problem, but it took long time to fry scrambled eggs, so in the end, when I lost my patience, I served meal which was something between roasted and cooked eggs. The most I remember is cooking the soup .
So the time after all-day biking and arriving at the destination, and after the accommodation and pitching of the tent, was followed by cooking the soup. I turned on the stove and place a bowl of water on it. This water was gradually getting so warm that it started to evaporate as a steam locomotive. And we are waiting for a little eternity finally to boil it. And when it seemed to some of us that small bubbles appeared beside abundant steam, which would be a sign that the water finally boiled, we put the content of the Swiss soup bag in that water.
Now a real problem started.
Instead of steam of water, a huge cloud of steam made of Swiss soup came out of our bowl to what our empty and hungry stomachs reacted quickly and extremely noisy. Probably imaginative inquisitors came up with a similar idea - take starved man and walk him through the kitchen where the finest gastronomic delicacies in the final stage was being prepared. Pitiable man has been pulled apart by inner forces in his digestive tract, and probably he admitted more than he would, just to take the smallest piece of food in his mouth. It still had to endure 15 infinite minutes while the soup was done. And finally the dinner started.
Now, whether because of the hunger and tiredness, and/or this inquisition torture while cooking the soup, I did not taste something so delicious before or after in my life as that time I tasted that soup.
A special taste of that soup was made from hard, not boiled-till-end pasta, and meatballs, which also contained a hard core of flavoured taste under the surrounding soft layer.
On the menu were scrambled eggs on butter with bacon or salami. After melting the butter and putting the finely chopped bacon / salami, we waited in vain for a while to fry it all. It seemed that bacon / salami was rather mildly cooking than frying. After loosing patience, I poured scrambled eggs in the pan. By mixing, I got a porridge with infinite thin layer and it seemed to me that only the bottom was baked. The time of mixing and baking that followed, depended more on the intensity of our hunger than the degree of baking of the contents in the pan. And again, just like soup, it had a fantastic flavor worthy of the finest delicacies.
We woke up in the late afternoon, with a sense of serenity and rest in the form of mild smile on our faces which were returned to a lively color.Those few hours to the dusk we spent in the beginning of a camp tour (that camping voyeurism is always interesting to me), and after that we continued the tour outside the camp. Outside the camp was a park, and somewhere there was a hotel, so it was obvious that everything was a touristic complex. So, with no rush, cheerfully chatting, we came to the creek which will be the Bosna river in future. Over there was an interesting old stone-bridge, currently under renovations. It has a name – The Roman bridge
The Roman bridge

It is unknown when the bridge was built. For the first time in history it was mentioned in the year of 1550.The bridge is made of stone blocks, probably taken from the nearby old Roman settlement Aquae Sulfur, and therefore it was named - the Roman Bridge. Alongside the creek/small river, was a well-groomed track that led us to the wellspring. What the wellspring! I have never seen a bigger source before. The whole river was exiting out in one piece from the earth, with the scent of fresh, crystal clear water and with its emerald color. It was the wellspring of Bosna river.
The wellspring of Bosna river

Well, that's why I like cycling and cycling ride. I go, I do not expect anything special, and then I get an indelible record in my memory. The record that any Alzheimer in the old age would not be able to deleted.
That evening we went to bed after dinner, refreshed for an interesting walk, dried out from last night rain and with a mild optimism because a day passed without rain.
The next day we gave the rest to the bicycles and we drove to the city center by the Sarajevo tram.
Baščaršija - the old part of Sarajevo

According to the wikipedia, Baščaršija was built in 1462 when Turkey ruled in Bosnia. The word Baščaršija is Turkish origin and means the main (Baš) center of the city (čaršija).
The old town hall in Sarajevo

According to wikipedia, the old town hall is the most beautiful and most representative object of the Austro-Hungarian period built in pseudomuristic style. It was built between 1892 and 1894
St. Joseph's Catholic Church in Sarajevo - built in 1940

Holiday Inn hotel Sarajevo was built for Winter Olympics Game 1984

That day we ended up with the sweet trembling, which was the result of the knowledge that tomorrow morning we will start the journey.
And we started it!

THE SECOND DAY OF JOURNEY

You can see the map of the second day of the journey here.

The morning was sunny, bright and clear and we were trying to finish packing as soon as possible and finally get going.We were cheerful and optimistic. We were happy that we were leaving the camp, and through dense urban traffic, longitudinally passed the Sarajevo valley along with the city itself. At the eastern part of the city, the road suddenly and steadily began to go uphill. After leaving the last houses of the city, a new road ran through the canyon of Miljacka creek, often doing it through the tunnels. The road we drove was wide, new, and beneath us was old, abandoned road.
New (up) and old (down) road

We left the road to Pale on the right side, and we continued by the left side of the road. The climb was changing its intensity, and for the moment it was mild and at the other moment it was sharp. The mountainous landscape around us were all in the greenery of the forests. In front of us there was a Romanija mountain that should be soon overcome by us. Little by little, pleasantly sunny morning freshness gradually shifted to hardly endurable moisture in the air, which, for a moment, relented when the sun temporarily set behind larger clouds. We tried not to admit it, but as time was going off, it was obvious that it would rain as soon as the surrounding clouds join into a big one to create a critical mass. It was hoping that this would happen at the time us passing by the houses and that everything would be reduced to a short summer rainstorm.
That was our desire to win the reality. In vain!
The rain poured out suddenly and abundantly, without any announcement, while we were walking uphill by pushing our bikes. There was no shelter anywhere around us. This uphill lasted a couple of hundreds of meters, and behind it was the straight section of the road through some village. We hardly found some kind of a wall to lean our bicycles on it. I quickly took my raincoat and wrapped it by my hands above ourself. That way I was improvising some kind of a roof under which my companion curled up, trying to put on a raincoat, which was a two-piece, upper and lower. During that time, on the improvised roof and around us was falling large and dense rain drops with such a noise and so much water that it seemed that we were only a few seconds away from the Great Flood. When we succeeded to put our raincoats on, we sat on the bikes and hurried to the first house (the uphill was suddenly not as steep as before the rain, even it was easy to drive).
As we entered in the village, among the first houses, we choose a huge house with covered porch, where an old man and an old woman were sitting by a table in the dry and safety area, watching indifferently the rain and the storm. While we resolutely and urgently turned to them, their previous indifference suddenly transformed to a surprise which opened their eyes and their mouth unintentionally. Entering into their dry oasis, happy for the ultimate true protection from the flood, we took off the raincoats and removed remaining drops of the rain. At the same time, I spoke at a speed of light where we were from and where we were going to, and eventually asked for a shelter in their home until this cataclysm of rainstorm comes to an end. A couple of seconds of silence followed, confused looks and frozen movements, ours and theirs, while the rain continue to roaring. And then I realized that so much information in such a small amount of time old mind of our potential hosts could not handle. I started to talk my story again but this tome much slower. The old woman reacted first. She did not understand the story, but she understood what she saw. She saw a of pitiable and sopping couple of bikers which simply crave for the little piece of mercy and drop of the host heat. She stopped me in telling my story, stood up and showed us the remaining empty chairs to sit down. She advised us to chang our clothes if the water came to the place where it should not be. And while we all were confused and tried to calm down and bring order to the confused situation, in the meantime, with the rain, the chill wind started blowing .That was why the hosts suggested that we go inside where we will sit by the heating stove. Certainly, it would be more comfortable.
That was a common huge house where two old people lived in. In a small room (3 x 3 meters), there were a table with chairs, a sofa, a kitchen cabinet with a compulsory television set, and a stove for heating and cooking purposes. So this room becomes the living room in an otherwise lifeless home. The first heat that we felt was due to the miniature size of the room along with the modest, already mentioned arrangement of good antique furniture, while the other real (not the first one, psychological) heat was from just started fire. And so we entered together, physically because of the small rooms, and also because of the heat (both real and psychological), we started gradually talking and the story became more alive. We were encouraged to talk by mentioned warmth in all forms, and by the sympathetic kindness of old couple. That kindness was a result of unexpected reminder of their own youth. Beside this reminder, they were encouraged to talk by the fact that they completely unexpectedly got the content of the day different from the many that had passed by and probably from many days coming.The two of us, young people, in love, at the beginning of something for which we specifically did not know what it was (we call it life together), and they, the two old ones, who already did that what life together has been called. It seemed to me that their harmony in their community was interesting to us, and our serenity and optimism, what was feature to young and still in love people, was interesting to them.
So a typical story has been told.
Their son and daughter were done with their high schools, started a family and went to the big city where they found the job. Fortunately, they did not seek for anything bigger than Sarajevo (22 kilometers away), and that could happen. So in the end of the week, for at least one of the weekends, they run by car together with their children, to the place with clean air and a grandmother's healthy kitchen. In between those weekends, they live(survive) gray and monotonous old days by remembering a full house and children's talking over the past weekend and waiting for the same crowd on one of the following weekends.That gray and monotony chain of days between the weekends we suddenly and unexpectedly broke off. And they were glad about that.
Word by word, time passed by. I was occasionally looking at the puddle under the window and the raindrops that were constantly there.The rainstorm was over long ago. It turned into the silent and slow rain of the infinite-autumn time dimensions.The rain stopped just after 6 pm. when it did not have any sense to continue the ride. That is why I asked the hosts for permission to pitch the tent for the night on the lawn behind the house. At least we will pitch the tent without rain.
And so unexpectedly, instead of Višegrad town, we were in our sleeping bags, in the Mokro village (Mokro = Wet), from now legendary to us.
The weather forecast for the next days, which we heard over the radio from our hosts, was not optimistic: "A shallow cyclone, which circulates above our regions, causes an unsteady time with frequent rain ...". And we had continue through the wooded mountains where this rain will begin first and finish at its latest. With heavy heart, under the impression by inexorable reality, we concluded that we should go to the southern Mediterranean areas as soon as possible. So, back to Sarajevo town, and by Ivan pass and the Neretva river canyon to these southern regions. And with that cognition we fell asleep.

THE THIRD DAY OF JOURNEY

The map of the journey of the third day is the same as in the previous, but in the long direction.

In the morning, a quiet call of our housewife woke us up. I looked through the tent and saw the old woman carrying a pot with warm boiled milk. The old lady, after "Good Morning," recounted her morning activities, almost apologizing herself for something what may be her arrogance, to wake up people with freshly cooked milk. Firstly due to amazement, and secondly due to impressibility, I did not know what to say or what to do.Thirdly, I started being afraid that our housekeeper would not be ashamed and repented because of her noble purpose because me and my companion were silent all that time.That's why I jumped out from the tent as fast as I could, took the bowl from her hands with a story that she reminded me on my mother who often used to wake me up like this.Barely noticeable, but warm smile of pleasure on the old woman's face made me clear that the story about the warm milk and my mother saved the morning and us from being missunderstood.
It seemed that it was raining last night again, although we did not hear it, because of the deep sleep, so that everything around us was humid and wet. After breakfast a tent and the other equipment was assembled on bicycles. We thanked our hosts, old by the age, but young in the heart, and headed back to Sarajevo.
The road was mainly wet, and traffic was average.
Unplanned return from the Mokro village to Sarajevo town


We were surprised on how high the altitude we climbed up yesterday, because the whole way to Sarajevo was more or less downhill. We passed the valley of Sarajevo town again with the town itself and entered yesterday's camp for which we thought we would not see so quickly.
A man dreams, but God determines!
We took a rest in the camp, and in the evening we went to the city to see what Sarajevo looks like by night.We were sad because, by previous plan, we should be in Visegrad town which looked three times better, more beautiful and more exotic in our minds. But what can we do?!

THE FOURTH DAY OF JOURNEY

You can see the map of the fourth day of the journey here.

The next morning, again sunny and promising, but we were cautious in optimism because of the past experience.
We started our journey this morning to the south on curving and quite narrow road. The only objection to the road was the traffic, the truth of the moderate value, so it needed extra attention which we had to take away from the observation of the environment. And the environment was really interesting. The forested hills around the road were closer and closer to the road on which we were riding.Along the road, there was a railway line that will, more or less, follow us till Ploče town. Along the way, we went through Bosnian places, feeling that the road slowly went to uphill. The uphill lenght was mostly short, so we could ride our bicycles there.
The nearness greater uphill was announced by the railroad.That railroad stepped away from us and gradually started to climb by crossing from one to the other hill over (at least to me) beautiful viaducts.



In the end, there was a real uphill , but relatively short uphill, about 3 km. At the top of the uphill instead of the classic pass was a tunnel. It was Ivan Sedlo pass.
The tunnel was excavated by Austro-Hungarians in the year 1891 for the narrow gauge railway and was the highest point of the Sarajevo-Metković railroad.The ride through the tunnel was not overly pleasant because of the traffic and it was additionally problematic due to darkness (there were no lights) and the holes in the bad asphalt weren't helping either. The situation was bearable because of the fact that the tunnel was straight like an arrow, so we were able to see the light at the end of the tunnel all the time, literally and metaphorically.
After leaving the tunnel, the dream of all dreams for every cyclist - an almost endless downhill. Well, downhill is not quite endless, but it was very long - almost 20 km, all the way to Konjic town.
Firstly we had to descend about 3 km to Bradina village. In this village, again we met the railway of the normal gouge coming out of its tunnel pass. By passing a couple of houses that made the village, our road spreads into three tracks, two of which are uphill.

Good asphalt, mild curves, poor traffic, not too steep, but very, very, very long downhill. Around us the beautiful landscape of the surrounding forested hills made the ride fantastic and unforgettable.You are forget who you are, you forget about all your problems, people, situations. All that is irrelevant and less important has been removed, so that the spirit would only devote to the stream of information that sends your senses, impatiently and quickly, to your spiritual center- the brain.
And that poor brain is busy, very, very busy. His emotional part has been in some kind of big trance for too long, the heart is beating very strongly, breathing is disjointed and at the limit of weeping, and all together threatened with complete rational collapse –cold-headed observers (if there were any) would say: oh such a poor guy, he went completely childish! Still, it (the brain) has to be careful using the effort, or what has left of it, to keep eye on the road and stay safe in the traffic.
All in all, these couple of minutes were permanently recorded in my memory, and by the time they became even more delightful.
The special originality of this downhill made the railroad that went through the tunnels (which we weren't able to see) and the bridges (oh we were able to see them!), so it was interesting to see two railroad's bridges - one above the other.
Railways serpentine

Everything that is beautiful lasts shortly, and that was the case with this downhill which ended by entering Konjic town. A charming small town on the shore of a green-blue lake surrounded by wooded mountains. Like we were somewhere in the Alps!
Unfortunately, the weather, which until now was extremely comfortable for cycling, began to overheat with the sun rays. Clouds started to gather around the sun like two days ago. The colour of these clouds was becoming darker and darker, slowly but unstoppably.
Because of this, our hearts became anxious, which was the result of the experience in the Mokro village two days ago. That's why we did not stop to visit the Konjic town, but we continued riding. We continued on a road without an uphill, but the road had a lots of curves
along the left bank of Jablanica Lake. Around us was beautiful landscape created as a harmonious symbiosis of the surrounding wooded hills and emerald coloured lake. But that beautiful landscape was a little destroyed by previously mentioned anxiety.
The Jablanica lake with railway

And then we started to climb and to separate ourselves from the lake. The uphill lasted about 1.5 km and behind it was a tunnel. The tunnel was horizontal, and after that it was a steep downhill about 2km. On that steep downhill we rode so fast that we finally "flew" into Jablanica town.
During the World War II there was a great battle for the bridge on the river Neretva. A museum in Jablanica was built as a memorial to this battle. We had a lunch and then looked at the surroundings of this museum, first of the locomotive with the wagon and the crashed bridge.
The locomotive and the wagon of abandoned narrow gauge railway

The locomotive of abandoned narrow gauge railway (Notice narrow distance between rails, only 760 mm)

The crashed bridge of the narrow-gauge railway

The crashed bridge of the narrow-gauge railway (Notice the footpath along the crashed bridge)

Just when we were satisfied with the sightseeing and thought of moving forwards, a repetition of rainstorm from the Mokro village happened. After a 15-minutes rainstorm, it continued to rain. Boring, infinitely long, but still heavy rain. We improvised a comfortable accommodation beneath a large roof at the entrance to the memorial complex. The Jablanica was at a significantly lower altitude than the Mokro so it was not cold at all.
And it was raining and raining and raining, and we were waiting and waiting and waiting. It seemed like a matter of life and death and that the entire annual amount of water must have rained out right this day.
The rain stopped when it was no longer meaningful to drive any further. To the next camp we had to drive more than 70 km, and it was long since 5 pm passed. Therefore, we had to change the plan again, and adjust it with the situation. We rode bicycles and crossed the bridge on the other side of the Neretva river, where there were houses with a meadow.
We crossed to the other side of the Neretva River by high bridge with a narrow road on it

On that other side we chose a house with a meadow that suited us to pitch the tent. We presented us to the host and asked him for permission to pitch the tent near his home.
After his permission we began to unpack and to raise our house. Suddenly, we realized that more pairs of curious young eyes were looking out the window. Our host's daughter, a 15-year-old girl, heard about the sudden guests, and then ran to her friends to invite them to see the campers together.They were sitting by the window and watched us with open, curious eyes. I do not know who to whom was more interesting, we to them or they to us.

THE FIFTH DAY OF JOURNEY

You can see the map of the fourth day of the journey here.

The next morning, after saying goodbye to our host and thanking him for a pleasant sleepover, we started down by the Neretva canyon. This canyon is one of the canyons with a very high degree of "canyoning". "Canyoning" here means that the cliffs are very high and almost vertical. That's why I recommend everyone to pass this canyon. At least once in a lifetime. These are the areas of the Globe of Earth that seem very close to heaven. By riding through the canyon, I felt similar internal changes in our soul such as, for example, by the riding downhill from Ivan Sedlo pass to Konjic town.Its cliffs are steep and bared and squeezely hold the emerald water of the river between itself. Despite the narrow space, a man managed to set the road and the railroad in it. And all this on one side of the river.
The Neretva canyon(photographed by me during at some other bike journey)

The Neretva canyon(photographed by me during some other bike journey)

While we were riding, the river was on the left, so we had a poor look on it. But because of that, on the other, right side, almost a vertical cliff of the canyon was passing just in frot of our faces just, a few inches close. Up right, somewhere on that cliff, the train was howling while it was going to the coast. When the path became unbearably narrow, the road said goodbye to railroad and crossed the river by the bridge on the other side, where it would stay all the way to the coast. So they shared the sides of canyon fairly - one side of the canyon goes to the road and the other side to the railroad.
We stopped at the parking behind the bridge and photographed the scene behind us.
The Neretva canyon during this journey, in the year 1986

A few years ago a hydropower plant was built downstream of this bridge. Due to that hydroelectric power station, the level of water in Neretva was raised and a lake was formed. Unfortunately, this lake has soften the wilderness of the canyon.
Luckily, I had travelled there before - with my family in 1981. The hydropower plant was not yet built back then, so the Neretva canyon could be observed in its wilde beauty.
The Neretva canyon in the year 1981(notice old bridge under road bridge)

Again luckily, riding the coast in 2005 with my (new) family, I stood behind the bridge and photographed the scene. The hydropower plants were repairing, so the lake had to be emptied. After many years spent under the water, the old bridge returned to the daylight.
The Neretva canyon in the year 2005(notice the old bridge under the road bridge which was under the water for 25 years)

When we were already at bridges, I found a photograph in my archive from year 1981 with railway bridges.Two bridges across the river Drežnica before it enters the Neretva river can be seen on it. The upper one is for normal gauge railway, still in use. The lower one is an abandoned narrow gauge railway.
Two bridges photographed in the year 1981

Situation from upper photography after hydropower plant building (photographed by me during some other bike journey)

Unfortunately, the fate of this bridge under the water is not known to me.
Enough about these bridges. Back to our cycling!
Three hydropower plants were built from Jablanica town to Mostar town.That is why most of the driving was brought down to driving along the lakes, one by one. Luckily the lakes were on the right side of the road, so the view of the water is just like from the first row. The road was new, wide enough that we did not need to worry (too much) about traffic. Beside that, the road went slightly downhill, the environment was interesting, not that much that we fell to the emotional drunkenness, but good enough that we were feeling great. The number of the tunnels was countless. They were mostly short enough to be illuminated by the light coming from each end of the tunnel, so driving through them was more exotic than frightening. The longest one was illuminated by electric light.
And so the bike was sliding down lightly, the view was going left-right, the thoughts were wandering. We were paying attention to the traffic as less as possible. Somehow yes, we were on the road and yes, the vehicles were passing by us, but at the same time it was somewhere far away from us and it almost did not concern us. We had a feeling of mild levitation and sweet emotional dullness with an idiotic, mild smile on our faces.
Heaven is a place on Earth

For a long time, I have not mentioned the weather, so it might be possible to get the impression that the the rain withdrew in front of the warm sun, but, unfortunately, that impression would be wrong. Unlike the past mornings, the morning of this day was cloudy, gloomy and even chilly. As the day went by, only chilliness disappeared, while the cloudiness and the gloominess all the time led a long and persistent competition against the sun. So there were moments of warm and sunny clarity, as well as dark cloudiness so we were expecting rain drops with anxiety.
Unfortunately, that anxiety proved to be real.
About 15 km before Mostar town the Neretva canyon expands into a spacious valley where the suburban villages interchange with the infinite vineyards of Hepok winery. Riding through this valley is mostly uninteresting, so we felt sorry because the ride through exotic canyon was over. On our journey that regret was additionally seasoned spicy with rain. At first it was raining a drop by drop, so we were wearing rain jackets and continued riding. Little by little this drop by drop increased to two drops by two drops, and then three by three, so in the end it was a significant rain. Some parts on our bodies that might get wet, became wet, so it didn't make any sense to stop riding. In the past years, when I was travelling with my family in the car, it was very, very hot, and now, when we were riding bikes, it was raining so badly. That's not fair! Fortunately, the patient and warm look of my girl gave me a necessary dose of additional persistence in the longing to end this multi-day fighting with cruel rainy nature.
And really! After an hour of raining, and after the welcoming road sign of Mostar town, the rain stopped, admitting its defeat. Further on our journey there was no more rain. It was replaced by completely different meteorological trouble - a very hot sun.
We were wet because of the rain, so we passed entrance to the Mostar town and continued to 12 km south to Buna place where the camp was. As the rain was replaced by hot sun rays, we entered the camp almost dry. Auto camp Buna is located on the noisy river Buna. Noise is the result of countless small waterfalls .After pitching the tent and forming our new residence, we also managed to take a shower. Showering was a real pleasure because we did not have the chance to do that in the past few days. It seemed that we took all the problems and negativities off of the past days with this shower, so we were shining with happiness and satisfaction. And the sun, like it was ashamed a little for the past few days, was shining bountifully. Yet everything looks nicer when it's sunny. And that's why my girlfriend and I watched each other for a long time, smiling, happy and satisfied. The words were needless.

Our tent and our bikes next to the tent near the river Buna, in the Buna campsite, in Buna village

That we had become more beautiful, it was proven to us by an unknown, but a beautiful guest in the form of the kitten. I like small dogs more than small cats, so it ignored me and passed by me straight into the lap of my delighted girl.
An uninvited but a beautiful guest in her lap at our residence


THE SIXTH DAY OF JOURNEY

After breakfast we went to the city by the Mostar City Transport, and leisurely and slowly, with pleasure, visited the old town. It was a real pleasure to visit the oriental spirit that floats in the old part of town.
Me at the entrance to the old part of the Mostar town

The weather was calm, pleasantly warm and sunny, so there was no anxiety about the rain like last couple of days. That's why the tour through the old town was such a rest, both for the body and for the soul.
We descended to the river below the old bridge to get a closer look at the water. Due to the abundant rains (already mentioned several times in this story) the water was blurry. And that caught my attention. The water was blurry on the Bosnian-Herzegovinian way. With the help of fine particles of greyish-white mud, blue-green crystal clear water became light-gray blurriness. Opposite to that, in my the Slavonia region, in the east of Croatia, the rivers are coloured by the dark brown mud during the rain.
In the picture blurriness of water is not so noticeable

And now something about the bridge by the Mostar town is named (Most(ar) = a bridge).








A view on the old part of Mostar town from the bridge

At the time of the construction of the old bridge, Bosnia and Herzegovina was a member of the Ottoman Empire. According to Wikipedia,the old bridge was commissioned by Suleiman the Magnificent in 1557 to replace an older wooden suspension bridge of dubious stability. The bridge was completed on the 7th July 1567. Upon its completion it was the widest man-made arch in the world. The bridge is 4 metres wide and 30 metres long, and dominates the river from a height of 24 m.

THE SEVENTH DAY OF JOURNEY

You can see the map of the seventh day of the journey here.

The next morning we continued our journey to the south by the Neretva river valley. After a while, the valley narrowed, so the road had to go through the hill by the tunnels several times so that it could continue.The downhill ended so we were driving by mostly quiet river.
In the old oriental Počitelj place we entered 12 km away from the border between Bosnia and Herzegovina and Croatia.Pocitelj place

At the time of this journey this border was not real. It was only on the paper because Bosnia and Herzegovina and Croatia were federal units of former Yugoslavia. After the collapse of that state, in the year 1995, a real border between Bosnia and Herzegovina and Croatia was created.
The sun was warming pretty strongly, so our bodies had minimum clothes on.The green landscape of the forest after Jablanica gradually changed into the gray landscape of rocks and stones. Hot, very hot sun rays warmed up that rocks and stones, and after some time we had situation that it was warming from both sides – from up and from down. As I said before, we had no more problems with the rain, it was replaced by the problem of heat. That problem was solved by drinking a huge amount of juices and water (also beer, for me).
In Metković town we got off the main roads and crossed the bridge to the other side of the Neretva and then by the narrow but asphalted road without traffic we continued the way to the south. We had about 20 km to the Ploče town. Our road went was narrow and parallel with the railroad, except in the two villages when it shortly separated from us.The first was the Kula Norinska village, a common Mediterranean place
The Kula Norinska village

Our narrow road (the Neratva river is on the left and the railway is on the right)

After couple of kilometers, we arrived to the second village – Komin.It was bigger and more interesting and was squeezed between the hill and the river Neretva, so it was narrow and long.That river Neretva here looked more like a narrow and long, long bay or canal rather than a river. This part of the river is available to the boats. On the left side of the road is a dock and on the right side of the street is a line of houses. On this dock, every second or third house had either a boat or stairs to the water. I got the impression that the road divides the entirety of household into two parts.
Entrance to…


...The Komin village

We went out on the Adriatic main road and proceeded to Ploče town.The road was very wide, the traffic was rare, but something else seemed like a problem. We were tired and exhausted, both from driving and from the heat, but the road went up and down, up and down. That up-and-down-road was trying to destroy last remains of our spiritual power and there was uncontrollable eruption of despair coming up. After million uphill-downhill there was one last downhill on the Adriatic main road. Behind one curve we had to brake suddenly to turn right, we got off from main road, and after a short downhill, we entered the Baćinska lakes auto camp.
Dalmatia, the southern region of Croatia, where we were currently located, is known for its rainy winters and dry, extremely warm summers. As in Herzegovina, the environment is made of rocks and stones with very few forests and trees. And just because of the rocky soil, it is assumed that beneath Dalmatia there are many caves and underground channels, with or without water.
In the Imotski field, springs the crystal-clear Vrljika River, which inhabitants of the Imotski field drink when they are thirsty for a long and dry summers. It has never happened that inhabitants had to drink whole water from river, so, most water from Vrljika continues its way through the field and in the end it disappears into the ground. Traveling through the mentioned caves and underground canals, Vrljika sees the daylight again at the surroundings of Vrgorac town, and after a while it returns to its underground path. And finally it appears here where with its water fills the Baćinska lakes.
The Baćinska Lakes (photographed by me at some other journey)

I have already mentioned that on this area rains in winter, while in the summer it is dry and hot. Because of this, the winter level of water in lakes is significantly higher than in the summer. Because of the danger of flooding during the high water level, a tunnel is dug out of the lake, by which the water flows from the lake to the sea, a couple of hundred meters away. So the water in the lakes is on the constant level, regardless is it a winter or a summer.
Waterway tunnel(photographed by me at some other journey)

The creek which by the water goes from the lakes to the sea (photographed by me at some other journey)

After pitching the tent, lodging and dining, we used an unusual opportunity to swim in the lake. The entrance to the lake was not very idyllic. We had to break through the dense cane. The water was pleasantly refreshing, but not cold, with the smell of cleanliness. At the same time, the smell of the sea was felt in the air, only a few hundred meters away. Just that smell of the sea in the air in a mixture of smells and tastes of pure fresh sweet, no salt water, was specially interesting in this swimming. I have never experienced that before, nor later.

THE EIGHTH DAY OF JOURNEY

You can see the map of the eighth day of the journey here.

Last night, before we fell asleep, we swore that we shall wake up a little earlier to continue the longest, and the most difficult part of this journey, the Baćinska Lakes - The Dubrovnik town. But the character was not the strongest this morning, nor the mornings after. The common sense warned us of the fact that is very hot during the day and that it would be better to ride in the freshness of morning shade as long as possible. But when that freshness of the morning shade came, it fully spellbinded the spirit and the body. During the previous hot night our bodies were constantly rolling from side to side trying to catch some sleep. When morning freshness came they were convinced that it is better to enjoy the freshness than to continue the journey feeling tired and sleepy. So we, as rested and fresh (which is well), continued the journey when the sun was very high in the sky and when it became warm and hot (which is bad).
The start of the ride was not that difficult. We had to return to the Neretva river using the same way we came here last night. (By the way, since we have exceeded even the longest estimates of the starting time of today's trip, we have delayed the Ploče town tour for some other time.) On the Adriatic main road we continued through the valley full of tangerine fields. And when we started enjoying this idyll of the valley, the road decided to leave the fertile ground of the Neretva river and climb to the sky.This impression of its climbing we got by watching the road far (and high) away. In front of us there was an uphill of at least 3 km.
The sun above us switched the heat regulator to the maximum, crystal clear sky on all sides, there was no sign of any cloud. Around us there was mostly predominant gray colour of hot stone, and that few vegetation around us was mostly up to one meter high, so there was no shade, and there was no winds either.
It was hot, very hot, hellish hot.

In that circumstances, only cooling we got was the sweat from our face and the entire body. It felt like we were taking a shower in our own sweat, but at the same time it was evaporating. Only by consuming a huge quantities of fluid, we realised what kind of processes were happening in our bodies. Or in one word, we were thirsty, very thirsty and we were drinking, and drinking, and drinking...Luckily, we had plenty of water with us.
Along the uphill we went on foot, pushing the bikes. From our right side we watched the valley of the Neretva inlet that was more and more under us. The view was really fantastic and pretty effective in terms of the mental animation of our brain meditation so we have often forgotten about the heat around us by admiring to the sights below us.
View of the fertile valley of the Neretva River

The road still went uphill, entered the rocky hills and took away the fascination of the valley's observation. Instead of the huge green valley below us, we could now "enjoy" in the view of the hot rocks all around us. And just when we started thinking that it's over, that we will simply evaporate on this hot sun and disappear, behind one curve (always something important is behind the curve) far ahead and below we saw - the sea. The wind was blowing carrying the smell of the sea salt with it. Just a slight touch would be enough to feel the sea for the experience to be complete. We were standing, much longer than just a second, amazed, deliberately not rushing, trying to make the that moment to last as long as possible. We just needed a moment to come from the feeling of infinite suffering on this hot sunny day to the feeling of heavenly pleasures by this wind and the smell of sea. Just a moment was enough, that's what's with a man and his psyche.
After the break and back to the reality we continued the ride with a mild and long downhill watching the beautiful sea landscape on the right. The downhill was fairly mild, so we could completely leaving ourselves to the pleasures of the sea breeze, watching the scenes from the left to the right and from up to down.
One general note of this day.
Except from that part at the beginning, where we have crossed through dense and unreviewed fields of tangerine in the Neretva valley, all this road to Dubrovnik as if it was built with the basic rule that there should not be horizontal parts of the road.So we went up and down, up and down all this day (and one part of the next night). If a meter of the road managed to smuggle itself, by using the builder inattention, and became horizontal, it would just irritated the builders, so they would, as a punishment, build the next kilometer a bit more steep. By the Mediterranean sun, which, due to the previous rainy days, shined with maximum intensity, amount of our sweat, and hue of the skin was worth the attention and respect.
Was it because of the enthusiasm of the sunny (though hot) day, whether because of the feeling of happiness that we were together and doing what our heart loves and wants, or simply because we were in love, those (by temperature) fearful driving conditions were wonderful to us. When we stopped in the shade of some trees to cool for a bit, I watched my beautiful girl standing by my side with a bright red face and cheerful and wide open eyes. The whiteness of her eyes made a strong contrast to her red face.Yet, even though her face showed extreme effort, the smile of her cheerful face detected extreme happiness. Looking at her, I also had the same feeling.
By riding along the road, we were passing by bigger and smaller, "tame" and "wild" beaches, so we watched with the horror the lazy bodies just lying around and sunbathing. Observing them superiorly , we gave ourselves the acknowledgment of the correctness of physical activity for the purpose of psycho-physical health versus laziness on the beach. But as the day went by, the air temperature was rising, and with it the amount of our sweat grew, too. That's why we broke our principle of healthy active life and turned to the beach of the autocamp in the Slano place on a lazy, unhealthy, hedonistic swimming in the refreshing waters of the Adriatic Sea. It was lazy, unhealthy and hedonistic, but it was a real pleasure. Although we originally planned only a couple of minutes for swimming, the freshness of the sea caught us with strong and sturdy pliers, not releasing us out of the sea for good half an hour. After swimming we took a shower in the camp, and with refreshed body, and the spirit especially, went on. As every, thislike pleasure also had its own price. We lost at least two hours, which would be reflected on time of arrival in Dubrovnik.
Uphill, downhill, uphill, downhill...The sun was already on the west, approaching the sea, the heat decreased so the ride became more comfortable. In twilight, we had a short break for placing the moment in a permanent memory by photography of the first 1000 kilometers on my girl's bike speedometer.
Bicycle Speedometer in the 1986 year

For that attention and respect worthy success in my girl's life, I gave a flower to her which I picked up near the road a second before.
For my girlfriend (the flower ball was about 4 centimeter in diameter)

In front of Dubrovnik town was narrow, but long gulf named Rijeka Dubrovačka gulf. Therefore, even though Dubrovnik was only a few hundres of meters further away across the water, it took about 25 km to bypass the gulf and to finally reach the town.
When the day was picking up the last remains of the day light, we came to the Rijeka dubrovačka gulf in front of Dubrovnik town. After the joy, happiness and the last lift of the enthusiasm, a disappointment followed.
The huge disappointment!
It was not the the Dubrovnik River gulf, but the Zaton gulf, which comes about 10 kilometers before.This means that we had at least two hours, maybe even three, to the Dubrovnik instead of the expected an hour of riding.
And so the two exhausted unfortunate souls were silently, persistently, but not overly fast, riding in the dark. Riding, and riding, and riding....Sometimes we were evoking at each other not to fall asleep by the steering wheel. The most painful was observing the lights of Dubrovnik town, that were seen a couple of hundred meters across the gulf, but we had 25 km more to ride. So close yet so far. Those were the moments of brutal testing our spirit and perseverance. A lot of them would give up at this moment and fell into desperate weeping, but not us!
(By the way,15 years after this journey, a bridge that crosses the gulf was built, so the current bikers are deprived of the aforementioned testing of spirit and persistence).
Bridge above the Dubrovnik River Gulf built in 2002 (downloaded by www.dubrovnikpress.hr) – We arriwed from the left side, the Dubrovnik town is on the right side

When we already thought that this night would last endlessly, in which we would drive and drive as long as we could, we saw the sign on which it was written – Dubrovnik. Immediately, we started to feel that a life returned into our body and spirit. We entered the town half an hour after midnight. With the last piece of the strength we started to look for some kind of road sign for the autocamp. Instead of the sign, we saw a group of older women who, after they saw us, began to run wildly toward us. In that mix of confusion and fear I managed to get the last look of my girlfriend with voiceless question what these ones wants from us as they were running to us.The answer to this voiceless question gave the women shouting: "Zimmer! Zimmer!" (Rooms, Rooms!). Then we realized that all this was the present form of the free market and the struggle for every tourist. They left us alone, disappointed, after I said in Croatian instead of German: "No, thank you!"
After that sudden and perilous danger with an unexpected outcome, a new, more realistic danger for our spiritual lives appeared.That danger seemed like a traffic sign for autocamp, which was 4 km away, and the road went across the hill. We went up and down, left-right, up-down, left-right.... and finallyin the end - the road sign "Autocamp Solitudo"!
A salvation in the end! After 120 km kilometers. And just a few of them were horizontal.
Sleepy woman at the reception told us to go to the camp firstly, so if we find a free place, we'll go back to her for check in. And really, the camp was crowded, so finding a place for our little tent was not so far as easy as it seemed me at first time. Still, we found a nice little place on flat ground. Immediately when we stopped beside that place and parked the bicycles, my girlfriend sat on the ground, huged her legs with her hands, leaned her head to her knees and fell asleep a second before her cheeks touched her knees. I paused for a moment and, touched by the scene I saw, I watched her for some time. Gentle breeze of this summer night which brings the scent of the sea from the nearby waves, a peace of the camp that fell asleep and the blissful dream of my girl, which you couldn't have even in the finest bed, made me so happy and peaceful to the point where I didn't allow to myself to interrupt that turbulent flow of emotions that filled my soul.
And why interrupt!? We've reached the goal, haven't we?

THE NINTH AND TENTH DAY OF JOURNEY

In the morning we realised why these few square of meters of the ground were left unused by other campers until our arrival. In the first beginnings of the dawn, when the sun was rising, the first thing that was luxuriously illuminated by its rays in Dubrovnik town and its surroundings was - our tent.
It well known that the tent is a real example of a greenhouse effect. During the night the inside temperature of the tent is comfortable for sleeping, but, as soon as the sun rays shine it, the temperature within rises rapidly.
Awakened by the heat I quickly openedthe tent in the struggle for fresh and cold air. But instead of that fresh and cold air, I was blinded with concentrated sunlight. These rays were cheerfully and gorgeously illuminating (and warming) the entire interior of the tent. And when the blindness was over, I saw my girl illuminated by sunlight from head to toe, with aureole of light, as a saint. Her shrivelled face gave her the realistic image of person whose dream was brutally interrupted at the most beautiful moment.
So this is how we woke up this and the next two mornings, given that we and our bikes took two days off the ride.
The first day we spent walking around the camp and swimming in the sea, while the other day we went on a tour of the town and the Walls of Dubrovnik. I have visited Dubrovnik many times after, but it's allways a special event for me to visit Dubrovnik town.
Following photographs are from visiting the Dubrovnik city.



















I would like to stick to the first day in Duborvnik town when the second most special moment of my life happened ( the top most special moment happened on Tara bridge last year).
On that first day of having a break from the ride, after swimming in the warm and clear sea, we went to the sanitary facilities for showering. At the same time there were half of the guests of the camp, so the queue for the shower cabins was very long. In the desire to make the waiting more interesting, and to make our time go faster, we went for a walk around the center of the camp watching the events around us. As we were walking, we were holding by hands. Then happened, what for the cold-rational people seemed to be low-cost and pathetic, something from cheap love movies - suddenly, after laughing, he and she got serious and deeply looked at each other and then - they kissed. I suppose, there should be a slightly better movie, and the audience should be a little more inclined to this pathetic scene so they could see and feel the depth of the moment. Now, as I write this text, I feel the need to justify my fear that I would not succeed to describe using my humle words what was happening in my soul back then.
And everything was happening.
While talking to her and holding her hand I began to feel a little pleasant flicker in my soul.
In the beginning I was convinced that I will be able to control it easily. However, that pleasant flicker became bigger and bigger. The theme of the conversation was slowly becoming irrelevant, being pushed aside, and my consciousness became more and more preoccupied with something else. My consciousness was preoccupied with her widely open blue-green eyes and a little bit open lips which she was barely noticeably moving. As if she, by repeating each of my words, tried to find the first and the last piece of my feelings - which are the author of the words I was speaking to her.
It wasn't easier when she was talking either!
Only a small part of her was making it by using the words, and most of was making it by the movements of the body, hands, face and ultimately, mostly by hers eyes (oh, her eyes!). And instead of calming down that storm in my soul, which appeared while I was talking, by this watching / listening / feeling of her story I began to perceive, in a mixture of mild astonishment and a warm pleasure, that little, but gentle flickering in my soul took proportion in front of which rational control give in, and in the and totally withdraw. When I abandoned that control, everything was set on fire in me, so in the last moment, just moment before when I felt that I would break into pieces, fade away in everything and nothing, disappear, I pulled her close and hugged her.
If I am about to fall into pieces, to fade away in everything and nothing, if I disappear, let's do it together, with her. All the world around us, alive and not alive, turned into a blear whirlwind that spinned around us. I had the feeling that we were floating together two inches above the ground. The only thing that was clear and distinctly to me was that we merged into the one.
In this stormy event in my soul, I heard in my head Tina Turner's song that convinced the indifferent world around us that they no longer need a hero ("We Do not Need Another Heros"). Up to present day, every time I hear that song, that unspent remains of storm start boiling in me. And it will for a long time.
If a man cannot stay eternally young, why cannot he stay (at least) forever in love?

ELEVENTH DAY OF JOURNEY

You can see the map of the eleventh day of the journey here.

After spending next day on a tour of Dubrovnik, the third day we headed for the Peljesac peninsula.This means that we have returned to the road by which we came to Dubrovnik three day before, and just before the evening left the Adriatic main road and after Mali Ston place, 3-4 km behind, in the sandy bay of the same name, we found autocamp Prapratnica. We showered, had dinner and went to sleep.We strongly promised to each other that we shall get up early tomorrow and start riding in the shade through the peninsula Pelješac towards the island of Korčula.
Auto camp Prapratnica on the peninsula Peljesac

TWELFTH DAY OF JOURNEY

You can see the map of the twelfth day of the journey here.

We left the autocamp the next day and climbed 1.5 km up by the road, and headed for the main road - right at noon.
So far about the getting up earlier.
If riding through the Adriatic main road was uphill - downhill constantly, riding the roads by the Adriatic peninsulas and islands is that on the tenth potency. As if that was not enough, the sun was working hard to keep us far from the cold. Which means that the sun was burning and burning and it was hot, hellish hot.The traffic was almost zero and at least in that sense it was eaasy to ride.
During the ride on the Pelješac peninsula

We were convinced that the world is pretty small place when we met someone known to us far away where we would least expect it. By pushing the bikes along some of the countless uphills on Peljesac peninsula, that late afternoon when the sun was burning, and it was supported by the burning rocks on the ground, the good old Fiat 750 came to us and suddenly stopped. From that little car came out my friend, later the best man at my wedding, who, with his wife and daughter, just returned home from the vacation. We exchanged a couple of sentences, both surprised by the time and place where we met. As we talked joyfully, I watched the red-hot faces of a woman and a little girl in the car. Untill that time I thought it was us who looked destroyed, pushing the bikes uphill on this heat, but then I saw that two of them in that small car with the temperature at least 50 Celsius inside of it, it looked even worse (That car did not have air conditioning).

Fiat 750 made in former Yugoslavia at 80-is (downloaded from www.bringatrailer.com)

We found out from my friend that besides the kilometer of uphill, we were expecting a 15 kilometers downhill to Orebić town. The good news were that it was the downhill, and the bad news were that we were short on time for last ferry to Korčula. So we had to hurry!
The downhill was fantastic! Pure enjoyment! A medicine for our wounded souls. With cheerful faces and recharged emotional batteries we arrived in Orebić town to something called the ferry port - to look at the ferry that just sailed away towards Korčula island.
Nevertheless we were late.
Surprisingly, it seemed that the delight of the downhill still kept with us, so we waited gladly and cheerfully for that hour and a half for the last ferry, after 10 pm.That waiting for the ferry was more pleasant thanks to to the freshness of the summer night and the smell of the sea. Upon arrival to Korčula we quickly found an autocamp, but not a free space in it. Instead of that, the guy at the reception nicely directed us to the private autocamp outside the city (and beyond the sea). So, in the pleasant freshness of the summer night we climbed slowly on the bikes and found the final resting place after this day. It was close to midnight when, after preparation, we fall asleep. Our sleep was long, comfortable and firm.

THE LAST DAYS OF THE JOURNEY

You can see the map of the last day of the journey here.

The next day we had a walk through the town.The walk was pleasant, peaceful and stressless. We simply enjoyed it and did not want to worry that we would miss something during the sightseeing.
View from our campsite on the town of Korcula and on the Peljesac peninsula behind the town

As there is no ferry to Split town from Korcula town, it was necessary to reach him on the other end of the island - in Vela Luka town. So, after the other night on the island of Korcula, we started (again later than we wanted), by the uphill. After the uphill we went out to the new wide road that we passed two-thirds of today's travel.
New road on the island of korčula - Blackberry picking on one of the breaks

The end of the new road we marked by having a lunch and the long resting in Čara place near the local church. We continued driving on the old road. It was often unclear on this old road if we were riding on asphalt or not.
The place of today's lunch in the village of Čara near the local church


Back view to the village of Čara on the island of Korčula

Upon arrival in Vela Luka we noticed an autocamp road sign - 7.5 km.That was too much for us, so we decided that we would spend the last night of this journey sleeping in a bed of private accomodation. The price was exactly twice as bigger than the price we were paying in the camp. The special comfort of sleeping in real beds, after a long time, we must have interrupted by early awakening, because we had to catch a ferry to Split that was departing at 5 am. Half-awake and semi conscious we were placed on the deckboard of the ship and were sleeping for the next 4.5 hours to Split, with frequent awakenings.
The next night we got in the train and spent the whole night in it. In the city where we live we arriwed together with the first sun rays of the new day.
Finally, back home.
The end of the story of this journey.

Images from this journey can be viewed here.

Dnevnik.hr
Gol.hr
Zadovoljna.hr
Novaplus.hr
NovaTV.hr
DomaTV.hr
Mojamini.tv