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With a girlfriend to the sea, again! The August 6th
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.
After that dinner and that shower like that, sleeping couldn't be more different than this: firm, blissful and relaxed. I woke rested and cheerful with goodwill and a willingness to continue the journey. A moment later, when I got up and looked out the window, my mood has changed.
The clouds were so low that I could reach them by hand if I wanted to. They pressed on with their size and weight, so it looked like everything below would disappear without a trace when they finally went down to the ground.
It didn't look optimistic. As much as I stared at the clouds, in searching for a piece of the blue sky, or at least some of its indications, I couldn't find it. The rain threatened, and as if it enjoying the threat sadistically, delayed the beginning of the raining until we start our journey.
We were invited to breakfast (understandably), so while we were gloomy faces, chewing and sipping anxiously, our host was trying to find a good weather forecast on the net via a "smart" cell phone. In vain! All websites were unique in terms of forecasts: cloudy with rain. But how cloudy and how much rain !?
So far it didn't rain, so we decided to go, so what will be, will be.
In the courtyard, in front of the parish court, we thanked the host, the priest, for the truly cordial hospitality.
On the way out we stopped in front of the church to take some pictures and see it
The church would look a lot nicer if the sun was shining it. That's how it was nine years earlier when, unlike this, was the sunny morning. I was here with my friend who was my companion on that journey. The evening before, we were at Mass, and after the Mass, we filmed the interior of the church.
According to Google, the first parish church in Uskoplje was built in 1869, which closed due to dilapidation in 1913. The present-day church was built between 1928 and 1931. The church was built according to the project of Czech architect Karl Paržik. In 1976, a large mosaic was set up which was dedicated to Our Lady, produced by Joseph Biffel. During the last war, the church was damaged and the bell tower was destroyed. After the war, the church was rebuilt. The church got its present appearance several years ago. Next to the parish church is the House of Sts. Ante which was also rebuilt after being destroyed in the war, and the parish house.
We finally left, but only a few hundred meters away, to stand in front of the store. It was necessary to supply food and liquid because this day is extremely uncertain. At least, this was how gloomy and cloudy this morning looks.
This time, my companion went shopping. During this time, I shot a site divided into Croatian and Muslim sections. Maybe it was because of the stories I had heard before, so I felt, or was it the truth, anyway, mostly I felt, I didn't see, I didn't hear, but just like that - I felt that boundary that separates people into these two worlds. This border reinforced that gloomy morning even more.
Finally came that moment when we, with clenched teeth, decisively, albeit a little bit with fear, said, "Let's go!"
We even got to the gas station on the way out of the place where my companion had to get done toiletries that do not suffer any delay. During this time, I filmed clouds that moved even closer to the ground. It seemed to me that I almost could touch them, how low they were.
My God, why hasn't this threatening rain been raining some other day !? Why just today!?
In front of us there was a 9.5 km uphill to the Makljen pass and then the longest downhill on this journey, to the Jablanica town. Already there we shall be by the Neretva River, along whose canyon upstream the warm winds blow from the sea below. This means that if it falls, it is not long. So, just to get to the Jablanica town.
And now it looked like it will start falling every moment, and if it starts, it will not stop for a month!
Leaving the last houses of the town, we still had a few hundred meters of the plain before the uphill, which was visible in front of us.
I note that the above image is a little lying. The sky, or the clouds, were much closer than it looks.
But it is enough of desperation, let's find something positive.
First, there was no wind, so it is (almost) a pleasant freshness, just as it is necessary for uphill riding (my companion categorically refuses any uphill walking, we are not at the promenade!).
Secondly, there are indeed no settlements in these 9.5 kilometres, mostly forests, but somewhere halfway there is a gas station, so if it starts to fall by then we will probably endure it (if it starts to fall it will not be a downpour. already boring autumn rain)
So kind of refreshed in our souls, we went uphill.
The road was wide, traffic was weak, it was zero almost, the weather was pleasantly freshness, and the uphill was not excessively unbearable. I surprised how the ride was going smoothly. Slowly but persistently, we were mastering the meters of the road. We got into the monotony of pedalling. I was wandered with a look around myself, all to entertain the spirit with some abstract thinking. If I had succeeded in that, they showed me the first drops of rain that brought me back from that infinite space of abstraction to the particular road we were driving.
It started to fall!
We put raincoats on ourselves. I knew, at least for me, that it was a temporary solution. If it lasts longer, I will be wet under that raincoat anyway, though not from the rain, then from the sweat.
As in exciting American films, a gas station appeared in front of us from this abundance of forest, as a salvation for the main characters, which we expected desperately since when the raining started.
Salvation!
We stood against the wall, under the lavish roof, said hello to the worker, and asked for a permission that we wait in the dry for the rain to stop. "Stay as you wish, though it doesn't seem to me that the raining will stop today," he said to us after looking into the thick, gloomy clouds from which was raining, the quiet and still, but also boring and persistent.
We stood there for almost an hour when we were fed up with it. But the rain was still raining, with constant persistence it was falling, falling and falling…
The man suffers until he understands, and then he suffers not to understand sooner!
In line with the saying above, we spotted a restaurant about a hundred yards ahead of us and drove to it, despite the rain. We parked our bikes by the window, through which we looked at them, sitting at a table inside.
Still, this is a better place to wait for the rain to stop than at a gas station!
We ordered warm tea (God, what a shame, warm tea in the middle of summer!), Sipped it slowly, with a conversation about this and that in anticipation of a miracle - to stop raining. After an hour and a half, maybe a minute or more, the rain almost stopped. This "almost" means that it continued to raining, to be more precise, more raining with tiny, tiny, tiny droplets. It seemed to me that could be riding bicycles through it.
So we started riding!
Water (again) all around us. Those rare vehicles that pass by, were splashing us by a thick haze of tiny drops with the sound of ssssssssssss. Along the road were creeks, overflowing of water. We were entering in the haze or the cloud, considering we have climbed so high. But the intensity of the rain did not intensify.
We were spinning our pedals and were spinning it, and were spinning it. Around us was murmuring, was flowing, was hissing. On the left were the haze and the forest. On the right were the haze and the forest. In front of us was a bend, behind that bend was a new bend, behind that bend was a new bend, and so on, and so on ... until behind the last bend the roofs of something had appeared...
It was a restaurant, some kind of motel, on the summit of the pass (The altitude was 1123 meters)
We made it!
We stood under a canopy, changed into dry clothes, cooled, rested. We dressed for a long downhill ride, stood in front of the sign of the summit of the pass and, with the help of the camera, went into eternity. One day we will not be there, but it will remain this shot of her and him, who in middle age have decided, have dared, to be young. Through the time, the pain, dilemmas, difficulties and problems on these images will fade to the point of disappearance. But will sharpen, multiply, the success, and for that reason, pleasure, happiness and joy..
I was here already 9 years ago, also by bike.
It was still a fresh memory in me descending this pass. These are those memories that are indelibly engraved with a special emotional process, and with each evocation, or if somehow it would be mentioned, they crystallize even more, and remain for the rest of their lives as a fresh, clear image, in spite of the great years that have passed since.
I was trembling with unbearable pleasure, sweetness .. Nothing interested me anymore, neither the rain (which stopped) nor the wind, nor who, where or why ... only two things mattered, the ride by downhill in front of us and she who will be riding with me together by that downhill. There are few moments in my life where I have felt so much joy, delight and happiness, and this one is one of them.
After resuming the ride, it took me a couple of moments to restrain myself, but with difficulty, not to rush out of luck, and to calm down, the cold heads to continue driving, because, although it was only a descent, it was not completely harmless. On the contrary!
When I (in severe, but sweet torment) returned to reality, I noticed two things.
The first is that the clouds in front of us were losing their gloominess, becoming brighter and brighter, and also losing homogeneity ... in a word, they began to break. Even small amounts of blue parts of the sky appeared here and there shyly. It occurred to me now that I had noticed it at the turn, but my soul was preoccupied with the stirring of emotions described above, so it did not allow this seen access to consciousness.
Second, the asphalt road, on which we rode, became dry!
It is as if we have walked through the gates to the other world, which was completely different, both in time and space, or as if we have come from one planet to another. Such a sharp meteorological boundary between the two climate zones on the summit of the pass, was a really amazing. Till that summit of the pass it was raining, it was only raining and nothing else but raining, but after the summit of the pass was a completely different situation. For start, without rain. More than enough for us!
And the scenes below us!
Oh, what to say ?!
The strong impression, which was almost unbearable, in an emotionally positive sense, was reinforced by the fact that what we are observing is on our right. So, like on a tray! We needed just a little to keep an eye on the ride and with the other part of us, we were indulging to enjoy in watching the environment.
"Don't ride fast!" - said my companion, more quietly, modestly, than demanding, imperatively.
"What fast !? Now it's a sin to ride fast!"
She soon became convinced of the truth of my answer, what with the speed (or rather slowness) of my driving, and what with frequent, too frequent stopping for filming.
What I was filming was the bumpy valley that houses the Rama town or, as it used to be called, the Prozor town (Prozor = Window). On the surrounding hills were forests and clearings, and behind them were the slopes of the mountains. To the right, to the west, were the outlines of Rama Lake with Mount Radusa along which the road to Tomislavgrad winds.
Now that I go back to the previous few sentences and read them, I am shocked at how they have cool, blunt, and sterile sound. I do not know how to fully describe something that is beautiful, the perfection that nature alone can make, except that you come and see for yourself.
And how to put it in the camera and how to choose the best images from them?
I don't know how, but I'll try.
The following is, then, a couple of shots taken at the beginning of the descent. Once again, as you look at them, keep in mind that it is only a pale shadow of what is seen, heard and felt only when you are on the spot. Everything else, even these imagess are, well, almost nothing.
Somewhere at the beginning of the downhill, a few hundred meters behind the pass, while we stopped stop to see the scene below us, we turned back to view the summit of the pass and we saw the remains of the monument. The monument was one of many made in the former Yugoslavia in honour of the lot of offensives and battles fought by the Partisans in World War II. At that time, in that Yugoslavia, which not exists for more over two decades, these monuments were, as it is said, exposed to the media, accompanied visits of the masses of people once a year, when the anniversary of that was. Today, somehow they are ashamed by these monuments. So they destroy and devastate them, and make them much worse than leaving them as they are. Thus the devastated become dual monuments, of both this and that time.
Again with the help of the all-knowing Google, I found an image of what it looked like before the last war, and here's an image that shows what this moment was during we riding on downhill along the Makljen pass.
As we descend, the town below us got closer and closer. However, it remained far enough to us, because we were bypassed it, and our journey continued in the space, the gap between the two slopes of the hill.
So now if we can't get to the town, we can take the town to ourselves. The technique to the people, as the old people would say, this time in the form of a zoom lens on my camera.
In that hilly valley, as well as the surrounding hillsides, as I said, scattered houses that make up various hamlets. Some are surrounded by cultivated meadows and some by the forest.
Just before passing between those two hills that make the room for passing our road, I stopped, turned, and filmed the summit of the pass that we passed, from this lower perspective.
Above the passage between the hills, through which the road travels on its way toward the south, there is a fort from ancient times as a witness of the existence of the road at that time, and the control of the traffic by those in the fort. According to Google, it is a 15th-century fort built during the reign of Hungarian-Croatian King Matthias Corvinus. It had an irrigation system made by clay pipe. Allegedly beneath it are unexplored deep cave rooms where, according to the story, the lamps were extinguished by themselves.
But that's not the end of the downhill. Not at all! The road, by winding skillfully, was finding its way to down, allowing the surrounding mountains to observe from above the passenger's wich were driving hastily (most) or some of them were doing it slowly (as we now do it).
My God, how long!
Still up, at the very beginning of the hillside, the soul trembled with the vast, already described landscapes. She was still blinking, lowering herself and at the same time watching the areas which were better and better. It blinked when we came to the narrow passage through which she slipped, though already a little tired of the constant blinking, as well as the abundance of reasons for it.
When it hoped that all that around would calm her down a little, so the eyes and other senses will take a little rest from the constant trembling, new landscapes came that, by their appearance, overshadowed the view of the Rama/Prozor town, and the environment of that town. It is as if most of the beauty is coming, and before that, this was just foreplay, the overture. I felt like at lunch, so well hungry, I ate an appetizer, thinking that this was all, and then comes the real delicacy would be full of smells and flavours, but unfortunately, I was no longer hungry.
So I kind of was living through the continuing of the riding. My soul is already overflowing with all that is experienced, but what is coming is getting better and better.
The town is gone, which is not a flaw, on the contrary! Fantastic vistas of mountains without the sign of the people were offered, or with some houses, typically scattered everywhere in a Bosnian way, by logic known only to their builders.
And then we got a companion.
We first heard him murmur on the right, though we couldn't see him because of the dense greenery. It was a river, or rather a slightly larger creek, the creek of Rama, which from Rama Lake, from that hilly valley with The Rama/Prozor town, travels to the Jablanica Lake, where it finally finds peace in the tranquillity of the blue-green lake.
It seemed that cheerful murmur broke the barrier, the passage, for which our new companions rushed to meet us, for whose existence, due to the gloomy and rainy part of this day, we completely forgot. I guess that's why their enthusiasm was greater when they noticed the extent to which our joy flared up.
Somehow they showed up at the same time. They were crickets, a cheerful symphony of crickets and - warmth.
It was only then that I noticed the bright cheerful sun, the abundance of its rays, which these beautiful surroundings, further embellished by the glittering gold and pearls. And not only that! Those rays heated us too, they heated us so much that it gets hot. Confusing, unexpected feeling, and as far as this day is concerned, it was completely unexpected.
We stopped, somehow simultaneously with the same intention. We used to change clothes from winter to summer, slowly, with a quiet but blissful smile of pleasure and happiness, enjoying every single change of clothing. So, with a mixture of confusion and happiness about the unexpected twist of the situation, we changed our clothes from long, warm sleeves and trouser legs to shorts by which we were hinting at the summer's driving conditions.
And the sun is warming.
It's not cold.
There is no unpleasant wind
A pleasant breeze was winding.
The mild heat of the sun's rays.
Cricket's concert.
God, what a bliss!
Suddenly I was remembering what we had had since the beginning of this day: a gloomy morning, a doubt about whether we go or not, clouds which pressing, rain, endless waiting for grace for stop raining, again in the rain toward the pass… ..and now, a completely different planet!
And I get it!
It was all temptation for us from Him and in the end His reward!
According to how we were persistent, patient and calm, all this beauty, sun and warmness has been given to us from Him now.
He gave to us the Earthly Paradise!
In this general symphony of bliss, we also saw a creek, which we skipped over a bridge.
The road was still slightly downhill, the bike rode alone, no need to turn the pedals, no need to brake. A wide road of good asphalt winds past slopes and rocks. Or there was no traffic, or I didn't notice it. I did not notice, because my heart became in touched again, because my soul was decomposed from enthusiasm, because, for who knows what time at this descent, I again forget who I am and where I am, there is only some strange feeling of levitation, levitation by pleasure, delight, happiness and bliss.
Again something that will never be forgotten.
An unusual, new, still unheard sound on the right dropped me to the ground. I stoped the bike, go back a few meters to shoot something like a waterfall, which was more glided than it was falling. This skating produced the weird sound which we stopped for. Now that I have already stopped, let me also filmed the continuation of the road, this time with my companion dressed in the beautiful colours of summer.
Just beyond that curve in the above image is the end of this infinitely long and infinitely enjoyable downhill. I felt it more than I knew, maybe this scene had been left in my subconscious from an earlier time so I knew what was behind it, I don't know what was any of this is. One stage of this trip has ended today, so the next one begins - the river Neretva, here in the form of the Jablaničko lake.
That ten kilometres which we rode by the lake, to a lesser extent, was exactly like that - by the lake. But for the most part, there is no place for the road, because the slopes of the hills are steep and high, so the road climbs to a "sky under the clouds" to find a place.
Right at the beginning of the lake, just maybe a kilometre drives along with it, the place Gračac was located on the extension. In fact, at least this is the case with the church and a couple of houses around it, and most of the houses are probably scattered anywhere, in the already standard Bosnian manner.
Somehow, at the same time, the desire for a longer vacation and church attendance coincided, so that there was not a moment of doubt as to whether or not we stop.
The church was large, lavish, or at least it seemed to me in relation to the accommodation along the lake and the hills, as well as with a few other houses. It's a little off the main road, so it's easy to miss or not notice, which happened to me during my last trip. As a result of the intense heat, unlike now, nine years ago, the companion and I were more gazed at the water of the lake in search of the cooling than at what was on the opposite side.
According to Google which knows everything, this parish was founded in 1837. by separation from the parish of Rama/Ščit as a local chapel and has been proclaimed as the parish in 1858.
The parish church was built in 1892-93. in Gračac (the parish has since been called that), and a parish flat has been erected next to it. The church was internally decorated in 1895 and a bell tower was erected in 1897. Along with the main altar, they were erected in 1899-1900. and two side altars. After the construction of the dam on the Neretva river in 1945, the Jablaničko lake was created, in which buildings were sunk in 1945. The Expropriation Commission determined a ridiculously small monetary remuneration, payable in government bonds for 25 years, which the Franciscans refused to receive. 1956-57. a new house was built, followed by a church (1957-59), just beyond the old site, beyond the reach of the lake.
The pleasant warmth, the fresh breeze, the peace and the silence, all of us were amazed in some way, so we were in no hurry anywhere, but instead, we sat on a bench in front of the church in the shade. First, we were so enchanted with Paradise in which we suddenly found ourselves, completely watching, listening and feeling this all around us.
After we prayed one-tenth of the rosary, we continued to enjoy in an environment that remained exactly the same as we found it upon arrival, as if it himself had some sublime, more important preoccupations, so two humble, tired cyclists were not worth a moment of his attention. We are not angry about it, we do not resent it, because even what we feel around us is understood as confidence that we will in no way impair this peace and harmony during our stay here.
And then the hunger appeared.
By some rough estimates, we have at least an hour to Jablanica, maybe more. In addition, we have a 3-4 km climb, so if the hunger left unsatisfied, it will take on stormy proportions. We miss that two hours spent waiting for the rain to stop.
So, nothing else to us but take the lunch (and time is for it because it's just past 3 pm).
On that "our" bench in "our" shade, we spread the table we had. A step or two further of us we also found a faucet with clear water welcome to wash our hands, and we, so clean and with so good appetite, started our meal.
After lunch, we didn't enjoy a lot of the horizontal riding by the lake, just a kilometre or so. The reason is the boulder of the hill, which falls steeply into the lake, taking the place for the road. Although it didn't look like it at first, the uphill stretched well over four kilometres. Any evil for something good, so as a reward for sweating we had beautiful views of the lake and the countryside, at least when the greenery allows it.
In the winter when it snows, or in the fall when it raining endlessly for days, it probably doesn't look as idyllic as it does on the sunny days of summer.
But now, as we climb the hill, the scenes we see are side by side with the most striking scenes of Switzerland or Austria. Something worth the torment and effort of experiencing. Moreover, as hard as it may be, and the great effort (say, as we did today while we were climbing to the Makljen pass) looking at these scenes with our mouths open and our eyes wide open, it seems to me that we are generous, many times above our most optimistic expectations, rewarded with this in front of us.
It's not just scenes by the lake that was interesting. Not at all!
I don't know what was the reason is for the hamlet to be located where it is, but surrounded by forest and clearings, looking at it this way, from a distance, it looks really idyllic. We who live in towns, do not pay attention to the everyday problems like "Sugar is gone!" Or "No flour!" We just go to the store and buy it. But, how do these "problems" are solved by the residents of this hamlet? By reserves!? By neighbours!?
Accustomed to the strange mixture of the torment of the uphill and the beauty of the lake, I suddenly noticed that I was driving downhill, faster and faster. Contrary to expectations, the downhill was not short and it was not the overture for a new uphill, like many of it was so far, but was the final downhill from some kind of pass.
We quickly passed the dam. Whether accidentally or not, just at the point where the dam is closest to the road, the road passes through a tunnel. We also quickly passed through that tunnel, after which the road narrowed dangerously and continued downhill with an equally dangerous slope. To make the "joy" bigger, vehicles appeared from somewhere, so barely visible traffic became quite dense. All of this together destroyed my desire to stop frequently to take pictures (I had nowhere to stop), so here's just one shot of the Neretva river, or more precisely, what is left of it. The Neretva water from the lake through tunnels flows to the engine room, down there, probably somewhere near the Jablanica town, where it transforms its energy through the turbine and generator into the much-needed electricity. Because of this, the river bed between the lake and the engine room exit is without water. An exception is the season of heavy rainfall or heavy snowmelt when the water in the lake rises above the dam. Then it spectacularly pours over it and the thirsty trough from the picture below is at least momentarily watered.
This is an area where there is very little horizontal space. All some cliffs and canyons. And the very town of Jablanica, which we have just entered, hardly found any place for itself.
About a hundred meters after the sign with the name of the town, in the manner of a gazelle jumping, the bridge skips a narrow and deep canyon of a river or creek known as Doljanka (if I hadn't read it on the map, I wouldn't have known).
To the left of this gazelle bridge, hidden in the green of the leaves, was shyly hiding Methuselah, the bridge of the old narrow-gauge railway that until half a century ago was the connection of the interior of Bosnia to the sea. The mixture of quiet reproach and gentle pleading in my companion's eyes stopped me in my searching for a closer place and better filming of a dignified old man, so you must be satisfied with this more modest version.
We drove slowly to the "centre of town" (for a wonderful miracle, all straight, nowhere uphill or downhill), found a Catholic church and parked near the parish house.
Despite the adversities of the first part of the day, we still came at some reasonable time. Okay, I have to admit, it's not some excessive mileage.
This morning, while we were in Uskoplje while having breakfast at the parish court, our homemaker announced our arrival by cellphone to the priest of this church in the Jablanica town. That priest told him that we may come over freely, but we just have to wait a little bit because he won't be there - he'll be busy with some funeral. That "to wait for a little" will become big, very big.
So we walked into the courtyard in front of the new parish building, happy and pleased with the (still) good end of the day, whose beginning was nowhere near as good. We located our bikes and looked at the environment. For not to be overly uninteresting and annoying to us, heavy rain took care of it, which, after a while, turned into light rain. However, in about half an hour, the sun appeared, and with it, the rainbow came.
We waited, we waited, and we waited ...
To find some interesting content in that waiting, we decided to have dinner. That lunch outside the church on the Jablaničko lake Lake still held us, so we shall be satisfied with the warm soup only, which always go down well!
We waited again, and we waited and waited ...
It was dark already, so it was interesting for me to shoot the church under night light. In doing so, I was able to get an interesting for killing the time.
And again we waited, waited, waited ...
It was 9 pm, my companion's eyes became very heavy, and they're pulling irresistibly down. She began, quietly, thoughtfully and discreetly propose that we pitch our tent somewhere, anywhere, and go tosleep. I was kind of uncomfortable expressing comfort in such a degree at someone else's yard, so I begged her for some patience. She found it in my lap for a while when we sat down on the parish staircase together.
That peace in my lap, however pleasing to her soul, her body, in that (literally) bent pose, could not long endure. At first, more quietly and mildly than decisively and steadily, she began to suggest to me that we should pitch a tent ("Anywhere!"), and finally go to sleep as deserving people. I was embarrassed in someone else's yard to make my little oasis without the permission of the host. The more her proposal became more determined and unwavering, and less quiet and gentle, that more my consideration to the host was melted, and my determination for what was she required was rising.
It was already well past 10 pm when I firmly said "Good!" which was to long expected by my companion. I started to choose a tent location. I found it behind the church, I found it on my own, because my tired and sleepy companion didn't care where it was going to be. It was only important to lie down!
The place for tent was next to the church, on the opposite side of the street. And as it was, just when I was done with the tent, setting up coasters and sleeping bags, a priest's car came. After a couple of standard sentences alternating on this occasion (I am constantly in discomfort, perhaps even I afraid that he will be offended by that what we did in his yard). His proposal to us for enter in the house I declined mild and considerate, but calmly and decisively, with the justification that the tent and the dormitory are already finished in it, that she was tired too, so that everyone may enjoy their peace of God - he, the priest in his home, and we in our tent. In fact, I felt a little unpleasantly, because I am a man who requests and to whom something is given for nothing in return, so we better stay the way we are (again, on the other hand, I deliberately embark to request of such grace on these journeys - why does it bother me so much now? Ah that psychology!)
Now I felt sleepy too. I wasn't in the mood to blow the air mattress, which, by the way, would be placed under the mat, so the bearing takes on the characteristic of a real bed, whose hardness can be regulated by the inflation pressure. This time we will settle for the hard floor (actually, the ground) to get to bed as soon as possible. I made minimum, the most necessary, and I lay down with my wife. According to her breathing, who lay down a few minutes earlier, she was already navigating the vast expanses of sleep.
It seemed to me like I slept just a moment when the fever caught me. An uncontrollable and unrestrained shaking of my body began with it. I was shaking like a rod on a wind, brutally awaked from my sleep, panically searching for a T-shirt, jacket, whatever, to wear, and to warm myself in a sleeping bag, covered over my head.
As I was shaking in the darkness of the sleeping bag, I realized what had happened to me. Rolling in my sleep, my arm, shoulder, and a good part of my body slipped seamlessly out of the sleeping bag and from the mat, so between my body and the wet and cold ground there was only a thin, very, very thin material of the tent.
It remains unclear to me, even to this day, it has not been explained whether I stopped shaking first and then fell asleep or vice versa.
You can view the continuation of this travelogue here.
Post je objavljen 20.12.2019. u 15:09 sati.