Pero and his bike

subota, 15.01.2022.

The Una River - The fifth day, Part Two

You can come back on the previous part of this travelogue here.

Let's start with the accommodation.
It was huge, space for as many as 5 (in words: five) people. And I was quite alone!
Furthermore, it was on two floors.

The right half of the house in the image above is just mine for the rest of this day and next night.
In the lower part, there was a living room with a kitchen which is entered immediately through the street door. On the recommendation of the hostess, I parked my bike in that living room, right next to that street door.


In the lower part was a large living room with a small but well-equipped kitchen. There were a refrigerator, a sink, a stove and, in the kitchen element, dishes. Even there were paper towels as well as detergent and a dishwashing sponge.
A spiral staircase led to the upper part, which was a kind of semi-attic. Right next to those stairs upstairs was a bathroom with a toilet. There was plenty of hot shower water here too.

As soon as I passed the bathroom, I found myself in a large room with as many as 5 beds.


I chose the one closest to the bathroom, next to the fan, although I didn't need it. The room was fresh enough and airy enough. The open door in the picture above is the bathroom door.
I did not stay long in my new accommodation. It wasn't even 4 PM yet, so I took my wallet, cell phone and camera and went on a tour. Not the town, but something that was outside the town - the Tito's Cave. In that short conversation with the woman who let me into this residence, I learned that there is not much to that cave, only fifteen minutes of easy walking.
I returned by the road entered the Drvar town to the bridge over the Unac River. Next to each other, there were two bridges, old, narrow, with a lattice construction, and new, wider, concrete. Vehicles went on this new one, and pedestrians on this old one.


While I was filming the Unac river from the old bridge, I was left with the dilemma of whether to call it a river or a slightly larger creek. True, it must be admitted, whatever it was, it was nicely cultivated here with a concrete trough.
Immediately to the right behind the bridge is a barrack that plays the role of a reception and/or box office where I paid 5 KM (2,5 €) to enter in something like a memorial park, a museum or whatever.
It all looked like a park with a promenade along the Unac River.

Everything here was related to the time when Tito lived here during World War II.
On the website www.spomenikdatabase.org/drvar i found that Tito's Cave Historic Site & Museum is situated above the valley of Dvar, roughly 1km north of the town centre. The cave system which Tito and the leadership of his Partisan resistance used as a hideout from the German Army during WWII. After the war, this cave system, along with a reconstruction of the barracks shack at its entrance, was converted into a historical and cultural site that could be toured by the public. In addition, a building at the base of the hillside below the cave was converted into a visitors centre and museum complex, hosting various artefacts and exhibits related to Tito's time in the cave and the 1944 Axis invasion of Drvar.
The railway also passed through Drvar, which is long gone. True, it was narrow-gouge, and it was built by the Austro-Hungarians until just before the beginning of World War I - in 1914, only to be abolished in that former Yugoslavia in 1975. I guess that's why there was a piece of rails and the poor, bare remains of a wagon. As a (still) railway fan, I was sorry to watch these poor remains. They could at least restore it a little bit.

On the photogalerija.com page, I found a picture of a wagon that I guess this poor skeleton in the picture above used to look like when it was whole.

It was a wagon that I used to travel from the Bosanski Brod town to the Derventa town in my early childhood (before 1968). As I stood in front of this miserable skeleton I came back in my memory more than 50 years earlier feeling the smell of the steam locomotive and hearing the sound of a train roaring. For a moment, that picture was so clear to me as if it was happening now. I was surprised at how
the images from memory can be clear and effective, no matter how long ago, only if the right association aroused them.
By the way, this whole park museum is in the sign of Tito's name. Now it looks kind of miserable and desolate, maybe because of the few visitors. Besides me, only two other guys were here whose lazily hanging around. However, I have the impression that in the time of the former state, where the cult of Tito's personality was cultivated, there was certainly a crowd of people, especially pupils who came to this remote town on organized excursions.
This train was a passing, unexpected exhibit for me. My goal was a house in a cave whose picture I have seen many times since childhood.
Before that cave, I passed by a building where there were some interesting exhibits.

The building was impersonal. It seems to me it was built long after the war for the needs of the museum. In addition to some large photographs with descriptions of "Tito this, Tito that", there were several exhibits that were interesting to me, but did not have a political overtone.
I was especially interested in the clothing of people in this area during and after World War II, about 80 years ago.

For us from the era of the consumer paradise where everything is bought, it is difficult to understand that then people did everything themselves at home. Thus, a loom was exhibited here, on which the fabric for the clothes from the picture above was made

Apart from the fact that people made everything themselves at that time, the next feature of that time is that they rarely, very, very rarely traveled (something that is incomprehensible to us). And the roads were often reduced to narrow mountain trails, so they often traveled with and on horseback. To make this trip more or less bearable, a special type of saddle called Samar was made.

One of the signs that I was getting old would be finding museum exhibits that I remember their use, even in my childhood.

My aunt in the village had an iron made of grey cast iron. I remember while I was at her during the school holidays in elementary school, that she put the embers out of the oven, waited a few minutes for the heat from the embers to pass to the iron, and then ironed the laundry.
To the left of the iron in the image above is a lamp that worked with calcium carbide. Without delving deeper into chemistry, I will only mention that calcium carbide (CaC2) is a white-yellowish stone. When poured with water, a chemical reaction occurs, the product of which is acetylene or ethine and calcium hydroxide. There is no use of the latter, but acetylene is the main subject of this lamp. This gas is passed through the nozzle on the lamp and when ignited it burns with a bright flame and because of its brightness, it is used for lighting.
I remember (again) my elementary school when I saw that lamp with my father who worked on the railroad.
This round object with a long handle that runs diagonally across the shelf is a device for roasting raw coffee. It has a sliding door needed to put raw coffee inside. Then the oven door is opened and that roller part with the coffee is put into the fire and with a long handle constantly turned left and right. Occasionally it is taken out, that sliding door is opened and the degree of roasting of coffee according to its colour is checked by sight.
This fourth object remained unknown to me because I did not find it in my memory.
And now the main reason to visit this location - Tito's Cave.
In order to understand the logic of choosing its location, one should keep in mind the ubiquitous paranoia in militaristic thinking ("the enemy never sleeps and can always attack"). I noticed this while walking along the path towards the mentioned cave, although I have not seen it yet. But I noticed a high, almost vertical rock above it, as a natural guarantee of difficult accessibility “from behind”.

When I reached the foot of that rock, I came across the inscription "Tito's Cave (Titova pećina)", but not the cave itself.

Only when I passed through the open iron gate I saw a scene that I had seen from pictures in elementary school.

At first, I paused confused trying to find some kind of meaningful approach. What the iron fence suggested to me that it could be, common sense simply dismissed me with the comment that there must be some other, “normal” path.


After some time wasted in a futile search, I had to disappoint my common sense - this was the only approach to the cave. Shrugging resignedly, I started to climb, both with my hands and feet on the rocky path. I'm just wondering if during the war, Tito quickly, in the manner of a chamois, was climbing on this rocky "path" without this iron fence !?


With what only the greatest optimists would call the trail, I reached the hut well out of breath and visibly sweaty. Maybe the reason for that is my (physical) exhaustion due to today's ride, but it will be more likely that I underestimated the length of the trail and the difficulty of climbing it. While standing next to the hut shown in the image above and I was calming my breath and my heart, I thought which one of the fairer sex, even those most prone to adventures, would dare to "walk this path". And with what heel height !?
As I rested on the porch in front of the hut peeking out the window I saw that there was nothing in the hut! But nothing at all! Just bare wooden walls! Whether there was something before or not, I didn’t find out.
Disappointed, I turned my back on the window and devoted myself to the view of the valley and the town within it. That was a little better already!


Looking at the town and the mountains on the other side of the valley, I was once again convinced of the value of the strategic position of this hut. It is located in a place that would be difficult to conquer.
Before returning, I headed down a narrow path of planks behind the hut towards the cave.

The trail was not long, only fifteen meters, but it went to the end of the cave.


When I reached the end of the trail, which was the end of the planks too, I turned around and filmed the entrance to the cave.

I returned to the town, stopped by the supermarket and replenished my food and drink reserves. Arriving in front of the house where I live today and tonight, I filmed it together with the board that said "Rostiljnica Pahuljica (Grill Snowflake) ".

Obviously, in the space where I will prepare dinner for myself a little later, used to eat well in the past. However, I guess the business didn’t go well so the space was converted into an overnight stay.
By the way, my accommodation is on the main road. So, here’s a look at where I came from a few hours ago.

Below right, just behind the traffic lights is the famous Pekoteka Oasis.
Here is an image of the road to the Bosansko Grahovo town, where I have to push my bike tomorrow morning. I say push because right behind the traffic lights the road starts uphill.

After a shower, the dinner was followed. The menu for today's dinner was cream mushroom soup and pasta with hot dogs and Trappist cheese. Well, the first cooking of the soup ...

... and then enjoying the main eating

After dinner washing dishes, resting, meditating, thinking ...
I was in bed as early as 8 PM. It was still day outside. I kept my eyes closed, let my thoughts fly somewhere. I wanted to rest my mind and body well. Tomorrow is the last day of this journey, but it is also with the most kilometres in length and the most meters in height, and that again means the biggest walking. I add to that the somewhat present weakness due to everything in the past days, I concluded that it would be good to get some sleep.
Man dreams and God determines!
At some point in the night, I don't know what time it was because I stubbornly refused to open my eyes, let alone move and look at my watch, I was awakened by music. Live music! Somewhere in the neighbourhood, the female "performer" had a real, direct concert. Her repertoire was in line with the time and place where I was, so real turbo-folk. She was far enough away that I didn't understand her, and yet close enough to hear her. I continued to stubbornly keep my eyes closed and rest so that, with the help of wandering thoughts, I would get used to the acoustic company, and eventually fall asleep. And really, I used to wake up from sleep, listen to the rhythm of "boom, boom, boom, boom" again, and then fall asleep again, then wake up again, then fall asleep again ...

You can view the continuation of this travelogue here.

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