Well, it was sad, in some ways, to see the back of Sarajevo. It had a uniquness to it like no other city I have ever been in.

To lighten the load, it was tipping it down with rain. Through the awsome mountains we travelled, some of the Limestone cliffs and buttresses were amazing and the blue colour of the water was magical.

Sheparding Bosnian style. Heard sheep onto main road, no need to look, cars will stop!

It began to brighten up and soon I arrived in Mostar. I parked close to the old bridge, and was taken for a fairly reasonable 5 mark parking scam, but, it did include security!

The bridge at Mostar...

I guess Mostar held no surprises, apart from the huge thunderstorm that passed overhead. It was a lovely place, and the bridge was fantastic but again, I was feeling like an old mother goose.

It was worth another picture...

Elections are on their way here and I get the feeling that there are so many people living in situ,waiting to see if they will need to be fleeing again, or indeed, be lining up ready for a bullet in the back of the head.

Out of Mostar, I decided to take a trip through the back roads to get to Dubrovnic. In many ways the smaller roads were much faster as there was virtually no traffic, few towns and less speed restrictions.

lack of soil makes a desolate landscape near Stolac...

I entererd Repubica Serbia and it said welcome in five different languages. 20 metres on there were 2 empty houses that looked like swiss cheese from bullet holes

I think they must have employed Saddam Hussain as a tourism consultant!

As I rose into the mountains, the weather became threatening with a capital t.

I stopped next to a cow and asked him what he thought. He looked at me with disinterest and went back to eating grass. I took that as "go for it dude".

Note to self: Do not trust cows, they are highly unreliable, and they fart a lot.

I rode into a monsterous thunderstorm, lightening was striking very close, hail like peas pelted me and the slippey conditions were rather hazardous.

If you are thinking of taking a pee here, don't...

nuf said...

Taking shelter in the occasional abandoned house was not an option as some were booby trapped. Indeed, signs warned not to leave the road because of mines.

After 20 minutes and the storm eased, I stopped to get my passport and documents in order before I crossed into Croatia.

B and H is a unique country, such friendly people, amazing views but the graveyards are far too big for the size of the towns. I hope, with all my heart, that they find a way to move on.

At the tiny checkpoint, the Bosnian Policeman told me I had to ride back through the storm to another crossing 60kms away. I didn't want to do that, so. I gave him bassett hound eyes. He lifted the barrier and off I went!

My first view of the Adriatic...

Croatia appeared a lot dryer and as I decended towards the Adriatic, a lot more Mediteranian.

I was soon on the main road to Dubrovnic surrounded by vehicles of every nation. Culture Shock.

Home sweet home...

I found a campsite near Dubrovnic and settled down for the night. I chatted to some fellow British overlanders who have been on the road for a month. They had been caught by the storms too!