We Do Adventure

Five hours and twenty minutes sat on a bus between Zagreb, Croatia, and Jajce, Bosnia and Herzegovina, yesterday morning gave me more than enough time to ponder some of the idiosyncrasies this mode of transport offers in this part of the world. I suppose I should confess I'm no expert; the town I grew up in was not big on buses and, baring one memorable overnight coach journey from London to Edinburgh, most of my bus experience involves the top deck of old London Routemasters. That and school trips. The distinction between a bus and a coach that the English language provides is not one that holds up in translation. Everything is a bus here. There are local buses and there are buses that make international journeys. From the bus station in Jajce we could travel to a number of nearby or neighbouring countries but the only trip I've made thus far is the one to and from Zagreb. This latest journey was the first time we've travelled the route through Bihać and Karlovac; ...

This was the view out of the window when I wandered, bleary eyed, into the kitchen this morning. Yesterday we had been told there was snow up in the villages above Jajce. There was speculation as to whether we'd get the same weather in the town. We didn't, but,as you can see, the high ground got quite a good dusting overnight. Today we were back in Banja Luka buying things we need to get Novi Most up and running in Jajce. Most of the way there was snow somewhere to be seen. The mix of fine fall (or autumn) colours and a dash of winter wonderland made for another very scenic drive. This time the overtaking entertainment was provided by a reckless coach driver who was powering down our side of a section of single-carriageway road as we rounded a corner. The benefit-of-the-doubt assessment would be he'd misjudged the speed of the double-length lumber truck he was struggling to pass. More likely, he was just to impatient for his own good. I halved my speed, deciding not to get ...