Driving to Bosnia

Friday, July 16th

I was on the road by 7:30am. I cruised by the outskirts of Innsbruck, I believe the home of another winter Olympics. Within a few hours I crossed the Italian border, my first time in this country. My SatNav has been acting up lately and not properly charging as I drive so I decided that today I would turn it off whenever it I didn’t need it. Well I was a bit late turning it on at one point and just drove past my turnoff. “Recalculating” she announced in her proper British accent. I’ve come to recognize this statement as “Dave, you messed up!” I took the next exit which was another 8 kms down the road. It was a toll highway so I had to pay to get off. Driving a right hand drive is always fun when you arrive at tollbooths...quickly throw it in neutral, pull the parking brake, undo my seatbelt, reach across and roll down the window, pull out my wallet and pay (and then do most of those steps in the reverse order). This sign led me to believe that my credit card should go in stripe side up so I slid it in and it just stuck there. I pushed it as far as my fingers could get it to go and it still was not sucked in for payment. Hmm...I debated my options: try to retrieve it or go all the way. I opted for the latter and used my bank card to push it in even further. Thankfully it was a quiet exit and no one was behind me. Even more fortunate was that there actually was a human inside the booth. He came out, said something to me in Italian, realized I was English speaking and went back inside to retrieve my card. Apparently I had put it in upside down but I re-examined the graphic and have to admit that it was misleading. Oh well, no harm, no foul.

Near Innsbruck:
The Austrian countryside:

I cruised through some Italian countryside along a relatively slow but somewhat scenic route. After an hour I got my first glimpses of the Dolomites, some steep and rocky mountains that I hope to paraglide at some point this summer. I crossed back into Austria and ran east along a valley with modest mountains lining the north and south ends. I then briefly ducked back into Italy, into Austria and then a brief, about 10 minutes, stint into Liechtenstein (now you do know someone who has been to Liechtenstein Sean!). Next was Slovenia. I stopped at a highway gas station to see if I could find a map for the Balkans as my faith in Miss SatNav was gone (granted she was supposed to only be functional in western Europe). It was over 32 Celsius at 4pm and felt even hotter in a tarmac covered rest stop. I did find a map in the store and as I prepared a sandwich in Betty, a young man approached me and asked whether I was headed to Zagreb and if he and his two buddies could catch a lift. They were three third year university students from England and I agreed to his request. Cass, Joe and Charlie were attending Manchester University and were on vacation for a couple of weeks before taking on summer jobs. They had previously seen Betty on the highway as they had hitched a ride with an older lady whose car had broken down and then managed to catch a lift to this rest stop. In true Betty fashion, she didn’t start but I was able to roll her backwards through the parking lot at get the motor purring. Worst case scenario was that I had three young lads to give me a push. We crossed the Croatian border without even a question and soon hit the capital of Zagreb. I pulled into a big shopping mall area where they were happy to be dropped off. I bid them adieu and returned to the motorway where i was able to let Betty run at her max speed of 130 km/h for over an hour covering some good ground as the sun began to set.

I arrived at the Bosnia-Herzegovina border with a beautiful red glowing globe of a sun setting behind me. The line at the border was slow moving and it took close to an hour before I made it through. When I actually approached the guards, I chose the one of the two lines with a woman border guard. I showed her my passport, said hello, and she reciprocated with a smile and then said “Good luck:”. Just ten meters ahead I noticed a few vehicles being searched. Did she mean “Good night” or did she think I had an unlikely chance of not being searched? I think it was the former as after a cursory check by the next border guard I was on my way.

Crossing the border into Bosnia:

There was a stark difference between Croatia and Bosnia in the quality of the infrastructure. Fewer streetlights, bumpier roads and the scent of garbage fuelled fires entered my nostrils. As I left the lit streets of the town Brod, I couldn’t believe how suddenly third world the area seemed. I passed a nicely lit gas station but wasn’t really in need of fuel and decided to continue on. Suddenly, there were no lights, the road was half ground up in preparation of repaving while the other half that I wasn’t driving on was already new black tarmac. The lack of lights and street lines combined with the wafting smoke of unseen fires and my dim lights on my campervan transformed my driving into a white knuckled affair. I passed a few people walking along the side of the road that I did not see until they were within 10-15 feet of me. I passed another gas station but could not see anyone in it. Due to my uncertainty of whether I was in fact on the correct path to Sarajevo, I decided to pull a u-turn and head back to the first petrol stop. As I opened Betty’s fuel cap, a gas jockey jumped out and offered his services. He spoke next to no English but was a friendly fellow. I asked him whether I was on the right road to Sarajevo and he confirmed it. I had seen a few signs before I had turned around that were in Cyrillic writing so I grabbed a pen and paper to try and find out what Sarajevo might look like on the signs. It turns out that the major cities are not written in Cyrillic...whew. I paid for the gas and a well needed orange Fanta drink and tried to leave the gas bar but Betty had other ideas and would not start. I grabbed the can of starter spray, sprayed it into the air vent and begrudgingly, after a few attempts, she fired up.

Thankfully after about 6 kilometers of harrowing driving on the aforementioned conditions that even included a bit of low lying fog, I got on to better roads with a bit more light. It was still a bit of white knuckle driving and I cranked some AC/DC to power me through. I couldn’t believe some of the insane passes that some people were pulling. It was after 12:45am when I pulled into Sarajevo. I immediately saw a motel but pressed on a little bit figuring that I was on the outskirts of town. I eventually reached the main street that was lined with newly built hotels and restaurants. It seemed to be a one road town. I thought it was interesting that the curving off ramp that I took to get on it had a cemetery in the middle of it...some place to rest in peace! I could tell that the ten to twenty storey hotels would be a bit pricey so after a brief search. I decided to return to the first place I saw. There was a pseudo night watchman there and although he didn’t speak English I found out that it was only 15 Euros for the night, perfect. And it was even a decent room! After driving for close to 18 hours, I needed a shower and I then discovered the only flaw in the room which was that the drain was pathetically slow and after a 3 minute shower, I had to cease my cleansing. Time for bed...