2003: My big trip across Croatia and Bosnia.. Tribute to Sarajevo

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Città di Castello, is a clear, crisp morning in the morning, when we gather for the start. One by one the bikes arrive and stop at the center of the square, as if to make a fine show. For some it is the first time and, surely, is the "dream" come true for others yet another dream come true. The first stop is the island of <strong>Krkstrong>, Croatia. Greeted the boundary of Trieste and, through Slovenia, we enter into Croatian territory. As we approach the coast increases the Mediterranean colors and smells, the way, copying the wonderfully rugged coastline, inviting us and we try. After the city of Rejika (River), take a bold and thin bridge connecting the mainland to the island. The landscape changes rapidly, invading the Mediterranean landscape and a deep smell of licorice and broom through the helmet. The town of <strong>Krkstrong> welcomes us in his simple fishing village.<br /><br />We open the day with a rich breakfast. Leaving the lush island of <strong>Krkstrong>, we reach the coastal road to take towards the south. A busy road, but wonderful for bikers. Numerous stops with the aim to capture the beautiful views. After a brief detour, go up the bike in the boat reached the island of Pag The landscape that presents itself is quite remarkable, no trees, little vegetation, only rocks and many, many dry stone walls that mark the boundaries and grazing sheep . The smells of nature are strong and the long ribbon of asphalt collects them all. The bays and coves you will find numerous, as if to keep the intense blue of the sea. Not resist the temptation and, at the first opportunity, we dive. Leaving the island and returned to dry land, you turn inland Croatian. The sea leaves and forms of marketing approach. With it comes the silence and a strange stillness; for miles no form of life, a campaign ungainly forms, which is indelibly marks the infernal 'ethnic cleansing'. Splinters weapon still on the floor, the asphalt marked houses scarred by bullets and explosions gutted, abandoned in a hurry and never Riabitare. The signs of life that was missing, and the nature, working to recover all soon cover the horrors, but will not be so for consciousness, the man once again, despite the memory, did not hesitate to make another atrocities. Slowly walk down the street in silence, as if we were going through a cemetery. Towards evening we reach Sinj, a large village not far from the Bosnian border.<br /><br />And 'the day of the "Tappone", about 600 km. total road not sliding. It starts in the morning, the time will assist, an inviting road uphill brings us closer to the border with Bosnia - Herzegovina. The territory is mostly mountainous, sometimes beautiful open plains rich in forests. At the border formalities and hurry off to <strong>Mostarstrong>. From top to admire the city situated in a valley surrounded by mountains. On entering, one can clearly see the marks left by the war, the city is crossed by the river that divides it into two districts, no longer connected by the famous bridge, a symbol of integration, which was destroyed by bombing. Work has begun to rebuild and in the meantime it was built another. <strong>Mostarstrong> left behind, take the road to <strong>Sarajevostrong>, which winds under dark and dangerous tunnels, through countless towns. Then we climb to altitude, along the way groups of children selling honey. The shapes of the landscape are harmonious and welcoming villages dotted with the characteristic peaks of the mosques. Not so harmonious must be the life here, despite an obvious hard work show through from the people. <strong>Sarajevostrong> welcomes us with all its contrasts. Traffic, skyscrapers and skyscrapers gutted brand new. The houses bring obvious signs of "snipers". The sun illuminates the white villages and cemeteries dotted around the surrounding hills. We visit the Muslim quarter, with its mosques, narrow streets full of artisan shops. Always present army patrols international stabilization. Even if it shows a particular fascination, not exude a relaxed, people do not look into your eyes, walk quickly. It will take time, perhaps generations, to repair the torn dress and soul of this charming lady of the Balkans. Are about 16.00 and separate us from <strong>Dubrovnikstrong> over 250 km. The sky gets dark, is preparing to rain.<br />As soon as we leave <strong>Sarajevostrong> begins to rain. The road climbs the mountains, the rain becomes more intense. It 'a real thunderstorm, with lightning and hail, the one that takes us to the first step, visibility is reduced, tons of earth and stones, also invade the narrow mountain road. No one comes to mind to stop, now the Lithuanian experience has taught us that, after the first km., You get used to thunderstorms. Overcome the worst, and the ceasing of the rain, now the road runs down between majestic cliffs, before recovering in a circuitous route mountain, including dense forests and scattered groups of humble homes. There are frequent meetings with the "Policja", which clearly has a responsibility to carry out a constant monitoring of this territory. Late evening we reach the border and we go from Bosnia. <strong>Dubrovnikstrong> awaits us, we come from and the sight of the illuminated city which is reflected on the sea is unforgettable ..<br />Wherever the visitor to the town can not help but exclaim amazement and wonder. Whether you enter the doors under the austere bastions that one of the many alleyways reminiscent of Genoa, the scene that opens the eyes is one of those unforgettable. It 'like walking into a great palace of the '400, covered with a ceiling of stars ", the main street, wide, paved in marble and surrounded by elegant facades, welcomes you and shows itself in all its glory. It seems to be captain, aboard a time machine, so many centuries ago, in a dimension where the balance has admirably cast architectural differences in cultures where silence can speak, where eyes are discovered greedy and insatiable . Ten years ago, over 70% of the roads and roofs (typically red) was destroyed by bombing. If there were no tables to remember, we would not noticed, so it was timely and respectful reconstruction. The movement of vehicles is prohibited, but always. Respect for the environment is implicit, we never dreamed it, inside a building, throwing on the ground a wastepaper or a butt. Having recovered from surprise, we decide that this is the right place to spend the last night in Croatian soil and tackle a worthy dinner of fish. The restaurant, in one of the many alleys, welcomes us with a nice outdoor table under the frame of a noble palace. The kitchen, as well as service, are at the place. Spend one of the best evenings. And tomorrow we will return by ferry to Split.