Former Days in Former Yugoslavia Part 3 Copyright Robert Fullarton 2015

Former Days in Former Yugoslavia Part 3
Copyright Robert Fullarton 2015


The city of Dubrovnik -"the Jewel of the Adriatic"- can be seen from a glorious height...on the Dubrovnik airport road, where from the mounts above the old town, you get a clear view of the terracotta tiles, the sea, the ships, the islands and the white stone fortifications of Ragusa. A spirit of Venetian maritime history is mixed with the Croat Slavic culture to produce a diamond in the rough.

The city endured Ottoman dominion of Croatia and the greater Balkans, through a steep and meteoric tribute that rose and rose in Gold for the Sultan in Constantinople in exchange for autonomy.

The main stradum (street) visually resembles Venice in style, form and atmospheric spirit (and I believe it to be equally as much an aesthete) where cobbled narrow side streets meet you with little taverns and romantic night lights. Where quaint and aromatic fish restaurants, steak houses and coffee shops meet the tourists gazes with opulent churches, regal houses and arched entrances.

The taste of olive oil and spinach, the char grilled steaks, the hearty soups and sweet after taste of a local beer are enough to entice any old puritan to loosen their belt and lighten up!

Musicians and amateur actors perform in traditional Dalmatian costume adding atmosphere to this wonderfully Baroque quarter. I myself went in awe to a local baroque church for a trio performance of Tchaikovsky's waltz of the flowers and Grieg's Peer Gynt. It was a ecstatic experience akin to what a child feels in a pure moment of innocence and wonder. The top experience to be had lies in the walk that nimble and fit climbers may take up the stairs and paths of the Stari Grad walls (old town walls)

Out onto the marina, there is a U-shaped harbour where fishermen come and go with their daily catch (fish is a highly sought commodity by both locals and tourists) and from here tourists will embark and disembark from the island of Lokrum.

I particularly love the island of Lokrum as a forested beauty set against the harbour, with its monastic settlement, it's once sabbatical habituation of Prince Maximilian of Austria and the old tower complete with French guns that date back to the French occupation under Napoleon. Turtles and peacocks roam amid the hedge-growth, sea caves and coves add to the attractions in their rough beauty. But botanical treats and hiking trails will take tourists well away from the crowds that emerge from the embarkation point.

This city has received a makeover from the damages of shell and mortar fire during the siege of Dubrovnik in 1991. UNESCO have come to the aid with great financial leaps and bounds made for the restoration of this city (unfortunately the northern baroque city of Vukovar received no such aid and assistance after the horrific siege completely destroyed and displaced many people both Serb and Croat) for the return of the tourist in the 20th century. The war has ended but it is not been forgotten, its scars have been concealed but they sting with the salt of the sea and chill with the movements of the wind, as human nature tends to remember and hate simultaneously rather than forgive and forget.

Former Days in Former Yugoslavia Part 2 Copyright Robert Fullarton 2015

Former Days in Former Yugoslavia Part 2
Copyright Robert Fullarton 2015

The city of Mostar is divided ethnically and culturally, the beautiful aquatic-blue river Neretva twists and turns opposite the main Dubrovnik-Sarajevo road from Croatia into the heart of the Herzegovina region. Part of the charm of travelling to Bosnia is the utterly rural, wild and wonderful mixture of coast and mountain, land and water rugged blue coastline and the powerful Karst formations of the Dinaric Alps. All and all this is mountain country, with the lunar white, cratered and rough mountains act like the spine of the Balkans running through the centre of the former Yugoslavian region.

On our drive to the border of Bosnia, near the coastal town of Neum, we passed through a mass amalgam of vineyards, olive grows, plantations and cultivations where a mixture of various fruits, figs, local peach and plum brandies are sold by the road. These cultivations stretch from the mouth of the flowing Neretva out to the town of Ploce where a fertile Delta has been formed over time. Lobster nets and fishing boats are on the horizon beside the hilly and forested Elaphiti Islands of Dalmatia which jut out from the Adriatic –within view from the car window around the many winding roads and the danger of crazy drivers overtaking on one lane bends.

Over the centuries the wrestle of power between the Ottomans, Serbs and Croats has left the region divided with its own mixture of peoples and cultures. I have gazed in silence at Muslim graveyards that date back to some of the worst massacres of the recent Yugoslav conflict, graves with photographs of young men and women form little portraits of war that spring out from the earth amid the sleepy green fields.

On my first visit to Mostar 10 years ago, I was enthralled and enthusiastic to learn more about the conflict, about the culture and the “legend” of the famous Mostar Bridge than had once stood for a symbol of unification between two peoples, its subsequent destruction and eventual reconstruction. The wounds were visible even then, even years later. A mighty tower block stood with every pane of glass shattered, buildings and sign posts were pot-marked with bullets and many buildings lay in rubble, it was pure history in the midst of an excited teenage boy who felt part of something very historical and yet something very tragic. UNESCO and private western contributors have funded and aided in the cultural reconstruction of this old former Ottoman city. Mostar is divided by the mighty green Neretva, where Croats live on the western bank of the city and the Muslim Bosniak’s live predominantly on the eastern bank, and both sides today prefer to keep to their quarter.

Over the ten years the tourist industry is slowly being revived, but the attractions lie solely in the Ottoman old town where beautiful limestone houses, bazaars, restaurants and old relics of Ottoman rule fill the streets and corners where each eye scans the history and the quaint hospitality of the locals. A man with an elongated chequered grey beard, wearing a light vest and pink pants greets tourists at the traditional gate to the old town –looking very Chic and less Sheikh than we expected but certainly getting a giggle from me and my parents- as we walk through very foreign territories, through a thoroughly Islamic quarter. Back then I would rarely see a woman with her hair covered, but now with Saudi money and Saudi Wahabi influences coming in, the extremes are certainly merging as fire and ice forms again and again within these two opposing communities (Ethnic Croats either want their slice of Herzegovina to be annexed to Croatia or they simply want to flee entirely to Croatia) have split the city in two with a history more complex and more devastating than even that of Belfast’s recent troubles.

My father and I were out walking one winter's afternoon in Mostar when we asked a local couple who were out walking their dog, “where you recommend a good meal around Mostar” which introduced us to an educated woman, with good English, who was schooled in the prominent University of Mostar and with whom we ended up taking a long walk through and around some very shoddy apartment blocks. “I have to keep an eye on the dog”, she says “he tries to have sex with any female dog he meets, he’s going down the street to see if he can find one now,” she said smiling while we all laughed in unison. The warmth of the locals reminds you not to be a snob, nor to show prejudice or make judgement of people- I have found the people of Mostar on both sides to be hospitable and very welcoming.

The tower blocks may be a reminder of the poverty that exists and has existed right through the old Communist system, but the fancy new shopping centre, complete with Cineplex and McDonalds shows no indication of either but only shows the modern system of corporate globalisation and consumer conquest.

About 40km from Dubrovnik to the north west you will find the Serbian Bosnian town of Trebinje. The road to Trebinje takes you over a fantastic car journey of limestone mountains rising like lunar paths above the Dalmatian plains below.

This town is not so popular amid Croats that the local Croatians will direct you the wrong way as they did for us about five or six times and many refuse to talk about it completely as though it were non-existent. My family were eager to know why people were so irritated by the mention of the town. Some people have since told me that the town’s people were involved to a certain extent in the bombardment of southern Dalmatia during the war.

Bullet marks and Cyrillic town names have been crossed out (or vice versa with Croatian names) with spray paint as Serbian and even Russian flags fly out from the rocky pathways to the town of Trebinje. The town looks poor, and undernourished in morale, but the people are friendly and seem to really appreciate the benefits of tourism (My family sat down to eat the best fish dinner we had on the holiday and all for a fiver!) Ironically many Croats go to Trebinje for bargains and for dentistry!

Serbs seek autonomy and seek to have they're lands annexed to Serbia by hook or by crook and Croats seek the same ultimatum -these are the old symptoms of the Yugoslav war, as each ethnic group long for representation- as land has been grabbed and peoples have been collared, killed and trapped by paramilitaries in the wrong zone or simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time!