Over the last couple of weeks Rowan and I have spent hours wandering the streets of Mostar trying to get our bearings. We've visited the four malls, sat in cafes and restaurants, run the gauntlet of pedestrian crossings and traversed the Neretva more times than we can remember. In one long walk through the tall apartment blocks that inhabit some much of the west side we chanced upon a strange, unfamiliar site. The picture does not show a rubber ball in some crazed state of decay. Rather it is a fruit. We know that much from watching two pigeons pulling one apart. We poked one or two ourselves. The pavement was littered with them, with more still clinging to the overhanging tree. Perhaps we're being particularly ignorant but this doesn't look like any fruit we've seen before. And therein lies today's lesson: fruit is still fruit, whether we recognise it or not. I look forward to discovering exactly what I photographed and to seeing what the 'fruit' of our la
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