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With a girlfriend to the sea, again! The August 3nd
You can come back on the previous part of this travelogue here.
If you don't want to read, skip the text and see the images of this day here.
You can see the map of this day of the journey here.
We slept like a log, like a lamb, like a baby. Yes, there were some sounds, it seems to me that some dogs were touring our place of residence, some trucks were rumbling on the road, and not to speak of the undefined, unknown sounds. But all of this failed to overcome the pleasant bliss of the righteous dream we slept with and dreamed of that night.
Satisfied, rested, laid back, and finally happy, I woke up just after half-past seven and allowed myself the luxury of relaxing stretching. We had a lot of time, there is no point in hurrying. After I opened the canvas door, the fresh air of the morning was blowing into the tent. It was so pleasured for me while I breathed it, that I filmed it in the hope that at least a tiny bit of this would be on the image.
While my companion was slowly waking up (I said we were in no hurry, right !?), I got dressed, and after the morning toilet reached for a camera to capture this camp, whose current speciality is a binary number of guests.
Just below the road is a toilet and a sink near it. The toilet was a squat toilet. True, it was clean, and it is clean because there was no one to makes dirty it.
As for the dishwasher, there is a sink, stainless, but without hot water. It doesn't matter, because as a replacement, there was a sponge with that abrasive material on one side, so scrub it as much as you wish. And all this is only a meter from the road, the wind after a truck passes by cools the washer of the dirty dishes.
Contrary to my companion's fears from last night that the Vrbas would grow up during the night, that it would take us along with the porch and caravan to the Sava river (because the river Vrbas flowing into the river Sava), that morning it was smaller than last night.
As I toured the natural beauty of this lavish campsite, my companion came to her senses completely, so we packed our things, prepared our bikes to continue our journey, and, overall, left the state of the caravan porch as it was last night before our arrival.
We crossed the road and went to the house where the host, receptionist, owner, etc. came out. I paid a total of ten marks (10 KM = 5 €). So overnight cost us 20 Croatian kunas (2,5 €) per person. It's not much, God will give us a chance, so one day we'll stop by again.
Since last night my travel companion took what we needed to eat at that mega supermarket, we did not waste time finding a store, so we could fully surrender to the pleasure of driving with the first pedal turn.
And we had a reason for that. After a foggy morning, the mist discreetly receded and allowed the sun to luxuriantly illuminate the areas we were passing through, making them so bathed in light even more beautiful.
A couple of hundred meters after the camp, we reach an intersection where one road left us and by crossing the Vrbas river, it continues to, let's say, to Kulen Vakuf.
We continued straight. But before that, we stopped, because I, a lover of road construction, wanted to film a new, concrete bridge. It was particularly interesting to me because it replaced the old, steel one, that it was nine years ago when I travelled through this area.
Maybe this new one is more trustworthy, especially for truckers, but to me, the old one, with its vibration, was more exotic. These vibrations remained in my memory because, while I was posing on it, a loaded truck passed and shooked me along with the bridge that we were both trembling with amplitudes of few inch size.
It was just after eight, the sun, somewhere behind us, was illuminating the canyon of the Vrbas we were just entering. No traffic, tranquillity, gentle breeze, pleasant morning freshness, peace and quiet around us. Like entering Paradise!
If I counted well, this is my fifth time cycling this canyon. It seems to me that it will be interesting for me again because every time it's like it's the first time.
On the right, right by the road is a vertical cliff, while on the left is a bumper. But, the road is narrow, so even though traffic is very rare, it was not very wise to stop on it for enjoying the environment. Because of this, we have enthusiastically accepted the gift which were in the form of a widening of the road on the left. Relaxed, in the peace of God, we were able to park our bikes and soak up the impression of the canyon, not paying attention to the eventual trucks, because there was plenty of room on the widening.
I was sorry a little that we are driving the Vrbas river on the opposite side of the road, so interesting details are not visible. So, only after stopping, we realized that, by chance, we made that pause in the right place.
For many years now, competitions in kayaking on fast waters have been held here at the Vrbas river. We stood just at that place, above the access to the water, made of wooden beams and planks. Above the water is a suspension system with tags, something like a door for skiers, which kayakers should pass by.
The canyon is quite narrow and tall at this place, so the sun has not reached the road this morning yet. Because of this, the air was fresh but still bearable, especially when we put on our jackets. It was hard to break away from this timeless atmosphere, but when we made it, we remembered that we had not yet had breakfast.
Satisfied with the fact that the stay at this place would be extended, we used the approaching wooden platform as a place of dining, so with nibbling and sipping, we continued to observe this strange place beyond the times and events we were used to.
We didn't allow ourselves to extend our breakfast till infinity, so we found the strength and determination to continue the journey. Well, there will already be places like this and scenes in the continuation of the journey.
We came to a huge monolithic rock that the road, long ago, once long ago, divided into two convincingly unequal halves. Which is because of its size, what about its monolithic, and what about that division, it was always interesting for me to give it a moment or two when travelling. If it's by bike then stopping is mandatory.
Comparing footage from past trips, I am left with the dilemma of the different look of the rock - is it the quality of the image or is it something in the ground or air that is dripping down the rock with rain.
A kilometre before the place of Krupa na Vrbasu we get out of the first of the three gorges through which we need to make our way to the Jajce town. Instead of a narrow canyon, there is now a wide valley with fields and meadows between the road and the Vrbas river. In one of these meadows, someone made an effort and made replicas of the old wooden houses probably for rural tourism. The log houses delighted my companion, so we spent some time watching.
I view this institution "Rural Tourism" with restrained suspicion. As I have passed the fifties, I also come from a modest "proletarian" family, and my memory still serves me well, I remember well how was living in (remote) villages. And it was much different than what it is trying to portray today. Everything is being commercialized, and so is the painful survival of past generations.
That I rather come back to nature and what I consider beautiful about it. At the exit of the site, the valley suddenly disappeared, followed by the entrance to the second of these three gorges. Immediately at the entrance, at the place where Vrbas is the narrowest, and thus the most upset,was a small, narrow bridge for one of the surrounding villages. Well, like that monolithic rock, so is this bridge was a known standard of stopping when cycling these parts.
After I went to the other end of the bridge and turned around, I filmed the bridge itself with the road and the vertical rock behind.
Bocac is a place on Vrbas where a hydroelectric plant with a huge accumulation lake was built in the 1980s. This lake flooded the old road, so the new one had to go over the hill to passes by the reservoir. This means that there is a much wider road ahead than before, but also with an uphill of a good 6 kilometers. Not very steep, but still uphill. It was some kind of a consolation, while we climbed the uphill, at the end we shall have a downhill which follow after the uphill. Due to the height difference of the dam, this downhill will be slightly shorter.
It was after 11 am when we were climbing up that uphill. We had completely forgotten about the freshness of the this day's morning, so it was getting quite hot while we were going uphill. Although I suggested hiking, my companion was more cycling, so she dismissed the proposal with contempt, continuing her ride. To save my masculine dignity, all I had to do was reconcile with the situation and join to her in hard breathing by uphill riding.
At first, I barely caught up with her, then slowly drove past her, at the end of which she honestly and warmly (with both body and soul) advised her to reduce her driving intensity (there were many kilometers to the top) and to take a rest more often. As I accepted her suggestion of an uphill ride, she accepted mine too, so we were stopping and we were rested together. During the ride we had hard breathing and wew were looking together in front of us looking for a nice shade where we would stop.
On this second resting, my companion looks more desperate than she was. We are a little different in the philosophy of driving weather, so while I prefer sun, sun and sun, my companion loves to cover it with clouds. The current situation was more favorable for me, and therefore these miles of uphill were more problematic for her than for me.
Fortunately, in the second part of this uphill, the surroundings with their exoticism have tried, if not completely to eliminate, but at least significantly alleviate the difficulties in mastering the hill.
In the gorge below us was a tamed Vrbas in the form of a hydroelectric accumulation lake, with beautiful green attire above itself. It was hard for me to decide whether it was nicer to watch the abundance of calm green water, or the steep green cliffs of the canyon, dotted with the grayness of the rocks, or, when I looked up, scattered places along the hills full of forests and clearings. I do not know how my companion, but as I was solving the aforementioned dilemma (or trilema !?), I forgot about the uphill, the sweating, and the hard breathing… I forgot everything, I focused on watching the scene in front of me.
It all comes to an end, even this uphill. As we already works when driving over a pass, a longer hold on it is mandatory. Even better if you can find a piece of shade, then a relaxed conversation comming up in which the subject is not as important as, more than noticeable, the light and cheerfulness of the success of reaching the pass, as well as the pleasure that follows during the ride on the downhill in continuation.
The place where was the summit of the pass was somehow hidden from the canyon, the rocks and the forest, so it looks more gentle than the uphill we rode. And so, as we sit in the shade, chatting casually, my view ends right across the road. There, in the idyllic greenery of a meadow full of field flowers, was a small chapel (it seems to me to be orthodox).
Mostly it always was, so this time was no exception, we stayed on the summit of the pass for a long, long time… And why not !? Well, we're in no hurry!
Still, it was time to move on. This was followed by a steep downhill, steeper than the climb we climbed. The fact of the height difference of the dam height is still to be taken into account, so we get the information that this downhill will be substantially shorter, almost half. Never mind, just because it's so steep it raises the adrenaline and it seems especially exciting, so I had the feeling that I was riding down very fast.
At the end of that downhill is the bridge over the lake/river we crossed after some motel. This motel seems to have strayed in its journey through space and time, so it stayed in this place full of beauty but utterly desolate as far as people are concerned.
Immediately from the bridge, we realized that we were on the journey to the centre of the earth, at least that is how tunnels look like to my wife. For me, they are completely different! Since my childhood, when I travelled by train, the excitement, the pleasure even, was to go through the darkness of the insides of Planet Earth. Ever since I have used the bike alongside other vehicles, it has been a special experience for me to go through a gallery of special scents and sounds with a dimmed view. Entering the tunnel is as if you were transferred to another planet in a split second or at some other time of the day when it was significantly fresher and often humid. If I hear the dripping of water, with the sounds I make with the bike itself, it all sounds like I'm in some resonant enclosure where even the slightest noise sounds thunderous. Then I feel like I am sound itself, not that the sound is around me.
Well, I don't like total darkness either, so I hope that the tunnel is not too long either too dark.This means that the tunnel is long enough that I can feel these positive particularities, yet short enough that enjoyment of the special sensory stimuli does not grow into anxiety or, God forbid, into fear.
However, a tunnel situation that is uncomfortable for me too and gives me extra caution with a little bit anxious, if I'm already able to suppress fear, is to encounter a vehicle in the tunnel, or worse, when a vehicle is overtaking me in the tunnel. Because of the walls of the tunnel, the sounds that the vehicle produces are equal with the sounds that a huge aeroplane makes on takeoff. The huge noise, on the brink of tolerance, is increasing more and more on all sides, so in a moment I think almost, I'm gone, no trace will be left behind me… Just like when that little VW Polo was passing by me. And it passed by me nearly two meters away from me.
To see is important, but to be seen is often more important. That can be vital for us cyclists, in the true sense of the word. Therefore, before each tunnel, we stopped, switch on the flashlights, both front and rear, and after passing through the tunnel, switch off them. We were in no hurry, and because of the sense of security that flashlights give us through the tunnel, it was not difficult for us to stop again and again.
Fortunately, for now, there are not many tunnels, traffic is weak, the road wide. The subjective slight downhill effect was interesting for me, though we drive along the lake more or less the same height above it. It was also beautiful, sunny weather, as was the view on the lake/the Vrbas river on our right is a real pleasure.
Crossing the bridge, the Vrbas river went to the other side of the road, so the cliff was our society on the right side, sometimes green and sometimes rocky. Immediately after the bridge, we passed through a tunnel whose peculiarity was daylight. According to construction terminology, it is a tunnel with a gallery. This gallery means that the tunnel on one side has openings through which daylight reaches. The gallery mainly protects the road from a landslide. Be that as it may, it is a strange and rare experience to ride a bicycle through such a thing.
I remembered that I needed to drive with a special concentration trough this area so that I would not miss it again this time, as it was the case with previous trips. It's about the mouth of the Ugar River in the Vrbas river, which, until it reaches its end, passes a picturesque canyon, which I have not (yet) seen, so I claim this based on eyewitness impressions. But that mouth was nothing special, calm green water surrounded by green vegetation.
I am not entirely sure where the locals are making the border between these three gorges on the road from the Banja Luka town to the Jajce town, so I just assume that we are currently entering the third one. It didn't matter what it's called, it matters what I saw and what my other senses felt. What I saw and what I felt with other senses was the peak of the beauty and the enjoyment of this present day.
The Vrbas river came along the road again, this is first seen on a road that is narrower and more winding, somewhat like it did before climbing to the Bočac pass. We are going through a sequence of three or four small hydropower plants, it seems to me that they were built a long time ago, maybe back in the time of Austro-Hungary. We often find that the space between the rock and the Vrbas river is not sufficient for the road, so the space for the road was found by carving the rock.
I already mentioned that was raining all this summer, so we were happy for every single sunny hour, let alone the day. The heavy rainfall no longer has any space in the soil, and even when it is not raining, it is somewhere flowing, so along the way, we crossed smaller and larger streams in which more or less purled a water.
It often turns out that improvised, temporary solutions last the longest, so on the left we encountered a narrow bridge as a way to one of the local villages. Understandable only by war logic, to which killing, extermination and destroying is the only correct philosophy, this bridge was demolished in the past war. After each war, this is followed by post-war reconstruction (strange logic of demolish-and-rebuild). The money for the renovation was not too much, or it went for somewhere else, so this bridge, which has been given as temporary improvisation, has remained there for more than twenty years. If anything, at least it can be crossed, so the bridge fulfilled the role of each of the bridges - to connect people.
(By the way, I filmed it during the ride, not stopping)
The highlight of the ride through these gorges and canyons was the narrowest and most exotic section. I note that, as far as the ascent is concerned, the road was horizontal, so there was no uphill, so we rode fine through this extreme exotic, slowly, inch by inch, absorbing the space through we passed with all the heart and soul.
There are a couple of tunnels, mostly short and most of them looks unfinished, so they looked like as holes in the ground.
Although we did not get tired too much of the ride, there was suddenly "a form of extra-board consumption" in front of us, in the form of an exotic refreshing drink.
With a mixture of reproach and awe, I always look at such wasting of nature with something treasure as is fresh, pure water. Something necessary to human beings, and all other living creatures for life, is so wastefully throwing away. It is as if by this act it shows superior disinterest, on the verge of contempt, according to our daily routine, even with derision he looks at our everyday life, which is a mixture of arrogance and egoism with fear and uncertainty from the next moment, or hour, or day. During that time, the source is leaking the way it leaked last year, decades, centuries, and how it will leak next year, decades, centuries. No matter whether or not there will be us.
And this water was something fantastic. There is no beer (and I like beer) that would give such pleasure, such effect on the mind and body as this water that flows so uninterestedly without worrying itself too hard whether someone will take it or go somewhere in the ground. Mankind was developing methods long and futile of analyzing this beverage to determine the chemistry of its action. I say in vain, because not everything is in the water, there is also the environment, the scents, the air, the sun, and in the end, my companion, whose presence rewards me with additional pleasure because of the well-known postulate that of all things in the world, only happiness and joy are greater when are shared with someone.
Little by little, it looked like we're entering in the centre of the Earth. Like it was a matter of time when, almost perpendicular, the rocky cliffs above us will close, so we shall end up in the total darkness of the earth's womb. We pass another short tunnel, it looked like unfinished, just roughly drilled. Behind the tunnel is a carved rock on the right originated in search of space for the road.
It happened what we suspected - there was no space for the road so it had to go into the ground. It was as if our road had lost it patience by our constant winding and avoiding.
The rock, huge, almost perpendicular had hovered in front of us. It looked like it was watching from a height at us as naughty ants.
The road could pass nowhere, but straight into it. At first, for a moment, there was the thought of the final decay into the endless blackness of darkness, until just a moment later the light at the end of the tunnel, both figuratively and in this case, really, could announce the exit from this darkness that is pressing.
We came out of a completely vertical, huge rock, sinisterly high. Just after the exit, by the bridge, we flew over the Vrbas river. More because of the soul we stopped, because what all this was seen and lived was too much for her, the soul, to continue. It needed to calm down. All these out-of-earth vastnesses were to be put in their place, to calm, to silence, so that the assembly that the soul makes with the body could continue in the peace of God in a peaceful, relaxed and slow way. And then later in some recollections, conversations, or as now, in describing all that has been experienced, these experiences come to life again, stirring up, showing to me and around me that the quality of life is not the number of breaths, but the number of breath-taking moments. And this is undoubtedly one of them.
As I, with opened my mouth like I was hypnotized, walked across the bridge and in front of it, I was trying to push the scene into my camera which had too-small aspect than this scene had. I knew, disappointed in advance, that it was almost a futile job. Only one small, small, barely noticeable part of this will fit into the camera. My companion, sitting on the bumper, summed up, subtracted, multiplied and divided, all the experiences of the last few moments of her life. It is obvious to me that she, in her way, was catching her breath.
The next kilometre, the road seemed to have a consideration
all the storms in our souls, so it gradually calmed down the exotic surroundings. Initially, the partially carved road, as seen in the previous image behind my companion, gradually gained in the width of the space, to eventually enter into some form of extension, something like a valley. With its imposing size, the first thing what we saw was the huge quarry that has eaten half the hill. The excavator whose was in comparing with the missing hill spoke to the size of the quarry. At the first view, it was hard to see that excavator at such huge quarry.
Finally, probably in the flurry of generosity because of our patience and perseverance which we had during the riding through that canyons, the rocks and hills took apart, so in front us was a valley of breadth unprecedented for us. In this valley, along the wooded hill, was the pilgrimage sanctuary of St. John in the Podmilačje village.
According to Google, who knows everything, the first church was built in the mid-15th century and was the only preserved Franciscan church from the Middle Ages. In terms of its stylistic features, it is close to the continental-type European sacral architecture of the time, but its late-Gothic portal was made in a workshop on the Croatian coast. The church was 15.85 m long and 8.50 m wide. It was renovated in 1705, then in the middle of the 18th century, and in 1822 and 1872. In 1910, a new church was built, characterized by Gothic style forms, with a Latin cross in the plan. The existing old church of Sv. John has built into the new church as a side chapel. It is a shame that the bell tower and the portal were destroyed as a result. In the church interior, there was a votive statue of Sv. John the Baptist. In the 1930s, Czech masters of the Arssacra Society of Prague painted the entire church.
The church in the picture above is gone because in 1992 the war whirlwind was destroyed it to the ground.
Only the floor remained as it was. Immediately after the war, the parishioners improvised the altar and served masses in the church and outdoors church.
I guess out of respect for the original, after the war, a church was built, that smaller one which had been built in the 15th century, but given the many pilgrims, it was decided to build a monumentally large one with the existing small church.
Long ago, almost 50 years ago, one mother brought her seven-year-old son on a pilgrimage to St. John, here in the Podmilačje village, in an attempt to beg from God the right and honest path of life for her son, which would make him an honourable man. I do not know if this travelogue some kind of the "right and honest path of life". That is why that boy of that time, and today your travel writer whose lines you are just reading, every time when he pass by this shrine, seize the opportunity and it will not be difficult for him to stop by, at least for a moment in the church (in old one, as is this one and in new one), to say from the depths of the soul quietly but honestly one: !THANK YOU!"
Just like he said this time.
The cold, ominous wind announced a radical, profound change in the weather. That wind reminded me that I had lost my shadow. Glancing down at the sky after the ground, I saw the black clouds somewhere behind the Jajce town rolling, mixing and flashing. We managed to do everything we wanted and intended at this place, so I suggested to my companion that we ride that 6 kilometres till the Jajce town faster than the rolling mass of clouds on the other side of the town.
So the race started.
As the wind whistled, we drove. Unfortunately, the wind blew in our face, and in addition, we had one uphill climb. Well, that's not all. As we were practically passing through the suburbs, there was a lot of traffic, which, like us, was in a hurry to overtake the oncoming flood. Plus, it's a narrow and winding road, so those 6 kilometres were a real wage for fear.
At the end of that climb, something like a little summit of the pass, I climbed up with the last power atom. With my lungs full, I was breathing air that was further pushed into the mouth by the wind (something like a pre-charge, a turbocharger!), On the road was a widening, something like a small parking place, so I told my companion to get a pause, even if the rain start.
The rain didn't fall start.
As we calmed our breath and returned the soul from its nose to its real place, we watched the town. From here, everything is seen as it was in the palm of your hand, so it was a pity that the wind blew, it would be a real pleasure to stay a little longer. This is how I took the snapshot, two, so we continuing riding into town.
As I rode through the sunlit canyons with utmost enjoyment, I wished, actually I was 100 percent certain that we will came to a shade of a restaurant in the old town of Jajce and fine and slowly enjoying in beer and ćevapi (that grilled meat) as something for putting a dot on letter i of this beautifully day.
Now I would be satisfied if I stay dry as far as rain is concerned.
We managed to get to the entrance to the town without rain.
Also we managed to stop for a moment and take a look at the Pliva waterfalls, the trademark of this town.
Still without rain.
We were able to get to that restaurant without rain.
At that moment the wind started blowing with hurricane-sized. The waiter collected tablecloths from the tables in panic. At one of these tables, I hoped to nibble the ćevapi and sipp a beer. Instead of that, the first drops of rain appeared. The size of that drops promised nothing good. On the contrary!
Right next to the restaurant, we found a large covered space, something like a pedestrian passage, which we chose as a shelter from the rain. The selection later proved to be good because we and the bikes too remained dry.
It was as if it had restrained itself until the last moment, so when it couldn't stand it anymore, the rain spilt. But it wasn't just only rain, it was a real flood. Both in quantity and duration. Usually, we expect that the summer storm will last about ten minutes, then significantly reduce the intensity, then gradually slow down, and finally, in about twenty minutes everything will be ended. However, only the storm here lasted for about twenty minutes, then the wind slowed down but not the rain. It falling and falling and falling. A real flood. The amount of water which was falling out here at that hour and something more to farmers would be enough for half a year.
It was interesting for me to watch the flood for a while, but I soon got bored. While my companion settled down comfortably and studied a brochure of the Jajce town obtained from some of the earlier trips, I was looking for something interesting, something that would catch my attention.
And I found it.
On a cable, suspended between two buildings, a Swallows showering by raindrops and enjoyed in it with heart and soul. It was really interesting to watch them enjoy themselves, spread their wings, shake the rain off themselves, fly one lap and then onto the cable again for a shower.
Well, while I was gloomy and disappointed watching the deluge angrily because of the omitted lunch, these little birds showed me that there was something good in every evil. So, we could become wet, but we didn't. We were still dry.
For the resulting sense of happiness and satisfaction, I was grateful to the Swallows infinitely.
The rain stopped falling! Finally!
Some drops, delayed when most of already fell, fell silently, but we, impatient with the long wait, decided to go.
Water, water, water! There was water all around us!
That water that had nowhere to go were spreading through puddles and ponds. The happier ones of the waters, who were not trapped in the ideal horizontal area, were rushing, even frantically murmuring in streams, waterfalls hurrying to somewhere down. Water was in the form of odours in the air, water was in the form of the sound of dripping, flowing, spraying under the wheels of vehicles or shoes of passers-by.
Water, water, water! There is water all around us!
In such an aquatic world, we were slowly dragging our bikes in the dilemma of (still) take that ćevapi and beer or not. In this dilemma, we passed the restaurant from which the irresistible smell spread. With a hesitant, confused look, I asked the companion "Do we come in or not !?", to which more or less the same look of indecision answered (there still was leaks, murmurs, spraying of the water, around us)
Damn, (I surprised myself how determined I was), I parked my bike, and then my companion's bike too, and opened the restaurant door.
It was all confusion! From start to end!
As soon as I opened the door, I stopped confusedly by the cleanliness and tidiness. Fine, unusually fine chairs for a restaurant. Although classic tablecloths with small red squares, the tables are finely toned and refined. And we in narrow, very narrow, tight-fitting cycling uniforms, where traces of dust can be seen, wind and sweat were mixed with the raindrops (that mixture could be recognized by dark spots on our clothes). I can barely contain the urge to go back, probably aware that it would be worse than getting in, because of the silent "welcome look" by the people in the restaurant that interrupted their conversation for a moment when we saw us at the door.
What I bit, I must swallow it, so I boldly stepped inside, holding her hand firmly as necessary support and support to continue. After we sat down at a table, I tried to hide from the view of the others around us, who continued the conversation but still kept our eyes on us.
Only later, amused by the workaround a portion of the meal in front of me, I realized, or I felt, I don't even know which of that, that their glances were not stopped at me. Their glances were bypassed me on its way to its destination.
The goal of their glances was my companion.
Most of the weight of these glances were borne by one glance, but deep, penetrating, persistent, curious to astonishment. It came out of the big pale eyes from a pale face ( or it looked like that to me ). Big because of this curious astonishment, and pale because of the pale complexion that must have transmitted the paleness to the eyes. She was young, certainly under twenty years old, though because of her large, huge body, that conclusion was questionable. Also, she was a Muslim woman dressed in (again) a faded greenish-blue dress. Her head was wrapped in a scarf that jealously guarded every hair strand against the view of the outside world. She had thick makeup on my face, but it also faded into a general impression.
She looked like to me as a carefully guarded person, guarded against the influence of the sun, the wind, the people, everything from the outside. But, she had a view which showed amazing surprise, almost astonishment. Besides that, in that view also was something between fascination and envy, pity to longing. She fixed her gaze in almost hypnotized trance to my companion, which was the total opposite to her: tanned, dirty of dust and sweat, cheerful, smiling, relaxed.
It remains unclear to me till today, whether did I imagined all of that in wish and intent to protect my companion and myself, or whether it was a real view from her eyes. An uncontrolled view that had the good fortune to last for a short while, but it had a misfortune that it was caught by my eyes.
At the same moment in those eyes, I saw the longing, the desire, the possibility, and, a short moment after, a bit of sadness and self-pity for the futile desire for freedom in which my companion enjoy profusely. In vain, for there is no opportunity and no chance of realization.
When is eating, let it be a banquet, so I ordered a dessert!
Hurmash is an oriental dessert, a cake that my mother often made for the joy of all her children, including me too. For the sake of melancholy, I am sure, but I don't know was it because of my childhood, or because of her, my mother, or, I guess, a little bit of both, I wanted to try this cake made in the ambience in which it has been made for centuries.
"Not something special!" I concluded disappointedly after eating it in two incomplete bites. So small a cake (my mom's cake were bigger), such an undefined taste (my mom's tastes were far more delicious), and ultimately so expensive. 2 KM (1 €) for one small piece of cake, and for a large serving of ćevapi (main meal) I gave 5 KM (2,5 €). There is no logic here!
When we went outside, I was almost happy about it. I was feeling some kind of remorseful that we were been inside at all.
My companion was returned the cheerfulness to me when she admitted that also she had not able to separate her eyes from that pale beauty girl.
The degree of the Orient here in Europe was, to her, utterly shocking, in a mixture of disbelief, astonishment and ignorance. I smiled slightly, more to myself than to her, because, obsessed with the pale gaze of the pale beauty towards my companion, I did not notice that gaze was reciprocated.
I forgotten that discomposure I felt at the exit, it disappeared suddenly. I returned to this world where was flowing, rustling, dripping rain even though the sun shyly appeared behind the clouds.
After we supplied us in the huge, exclusively European, but by no means Oriental shopping centre, we started to master the last 4 kilometres before the end of today's ride. There are a lot of uphill in those 4 kilometres, but I had no wish to take my camera any more because it was a lot of water, and water, and water around me. Instead, a tired desire for rest appeared, more of a mental rather than physical fatigue.
After submitting ID cards at the reception, we entered the camp, which was declared the best camp in Bosnia and Herzegovina a year ago.
The camp was large, and the lack of guests (it was just a few of them) made it bigger. The lower part, horizontal, was submerged by a large "pond lake" due to recent rain. The upper part was a little bit uphill, just enough so that the water flows into the lower lake. In that upper part, near the toilets and under the tree, for the sake of shade, we determined the location of our tent. After unpacking and storing our home, and all slowly, with joy, dinner followed in the form of hot soup.
The camp was really good. There was also a kitchen with a stove, and next to a table and chairs. This is where my companion prepared dinner, which we tried slowly, without haste.
So, in spite of the rain, and without haste, we managed to get to the camp early enough to enjoy the safety of the lodging, tents, evenings and rest before sleeping. We stay here all day tomorrow and the next night. Tomorrow is our day for rest.
You can view the continuation of this travelogue here.
Post je objavljen 18.12.2019. u 15:50 sati.