The town of Mostar in Bosnia and Heregovina

In spite of history leaving its mark, the country has claimed back its way of life and everyone we met on our brief visit were so friendly and welcoming. This can only be attributed to the stoicism of the people as it’s impossible to imagine the hardships they have survived.

Bosnia and Herzegovina’s geographical position between Croatia and Serbia has made it vulnerable to national territorial ambitions. Firstly ruled by the Ottoman Empire, then afterwards it fell under the control of Austria and Hungary, subsequently playing a role in the outbreak of World War I.

In 1918 it was incorporated into the newly created Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes. Following World War II it became a constituent republic of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. In 1991 the state collapsed, consequently the following year a referendum was held and the majority of the population of Bosnia and Herzegovina voted for independence. The country’s Serb population opposed this and boycotted the referendum.

This resulted in a war as ethnic nationalists within Bosnia and Herzegovina, with the support of Serbia and Croatia, tried to take control of territories they claimed as their own. From the beginning of the Bosnian Conflict in 1993 to the end of the troubles in1995 thousands of people were killed and more than two million people were displaced in the violent and horrific legacy of ethnic cleansing. Eventually with international intervention a peace agreement was reached on 21^st November 1995, the Daytona Accords, bringing an end to the war.

Sadly on 9^th November 1993 it was destroyed from tank shelling, ripping the soul out of the city and its inhabitants. Many of the Turkish houses within the Old Town also lay in ruin. Even today the scars of battle are still visible, bullet holes pock mark pastel painted walls like Swiss cheese and wide gaping cavities the result of mortar shells let sunlight into the dark hollow abyss of the city’s abandoned buildings.

After the war reconstruction took place with an international committee established by UNESCO and on 23rd July 2004 the rebuilt picturesque stone bridge opened, (replacing the 11 year temporary cable bridge) it now stands as a symbol of reconciliation.

These days’ crowds gather alongside to watch the Bridge Divers, a rite of passage for many young men of the town. For more than 400 years people have succumbed to this death defying act, it lasts for three seconds, just like a bird they take to the sky, fly through the air before gravity wins out and they enter the water 27 meters below. There is an established Divers Club beside the bridge from which the athletic bodies of young men emerge consorting with danger for the thrill of traveling over 50 miles an hour. And also for tips collected from the onlookers before they jump.

They span uneven cobbled streets, stone balustrades, draped with multi coloured hand woven rugs and textiles. Leading to paths where visitors stroll, lined by ornate black wrought iron lampposts, dusted by pink Oleander bushes.

In Tepa Market wooden tables visually bow beneath rows of the most vivid shades of reds and orange liquids. Precariously stacked glass bottles and jars filled with local organic honey and liqueurs, produce of nearby villages. Which I can attest to being quite potent, as the smiling stall holders are only too generous with their samples.

Before leaving I climbed a narrow winding staircase extending skywards towards a minaret, the view alone was worth the effort. Stretched out before me was a town of stone and painted buildings, tiled rooftops, and cobbled streets. Licked by the emerald waters of a flowing river, shelteing beneath the dramatic peaks of Velez Mountain in what is now a now peaceful land.