A Balkan Blitz - Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina and Montenegro

The latest installment of my sporadically updated travel blog comes courtesy of a two-week jaunt around Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina and Montenegro.

The Croatian part of the trip was short and sweet, with two days in Dubrovnik before heading north to Mostar in Bosnia and Herzegovina. About five days in Bosnia and a week in Montenegro was how it panned out.

Sarajevo was probably the most historically interesting place, because of the conflict there during the nineties. From my childhood, I remember the name Sarajevo as a place that was always preceded with the phrase 'war-torn' or 'under siege'. They've moved on from that now but there was so much conflict in the former Yugoslavian countries that it took a a while before I got my head round who was fighting who and why.

And going further back, it was the place where Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated in June 1914 and provided a catalyst for Europe to go hurtling towards World War One. I've only just realised as I type that I was stood on that spot just shy of 100 years later.

Any important life-lessons learnt? Matching hard-drinking Serbians beer for beer and rakija for rakija on a Friday night in Foca after white-water rafting was fun but quite painful the next day. Luckily there are no photos of that.

Anyway, enough rambling, there are captions under each of the 20 or so photos below. Some witty, some informative, some merely descriptive. All top quality.

Enjoy.

The route:
Dubrovnik (Croatia), Mostar, Sarajevo, Foca (Bosnia and Herzegovina), Herceg Novi,
Kotor, Ulcinj, Podgorica (Montenegro)

Dubrovnik, Croatia
Also known as Kings Landing in Game of Thrones. 

Rooftops of Dubrovnik
It's pretty scenic every way you look.

Mostar, Bosnia
The bridge is 25 metres high and has a divers club of brave souls who jump into the river below.

Kravice Waterfalls, Bosnia
Went swimming here in the midst of about 20 or so waterfalls. Bracing.

Sarajevo, Bosnia
Where the band Franz Ferdinand began, or something like that.

Foca, Bosnia
It doesn't get any more manly than this. Think Burt Reynolds in the film Deliverance but without all the being hunted down by murderous hillbillies.

Tara River, Bosnia/Montenegro border
We crossed the border between Bosnia and Herzegovina and Montenegro while rafting.
The water was crystal clear and clean enough to drink, which seemed amazing for such a big river.

Foca, Bosnia
Well earned glass of wine with a decent enough backdrop.

The Gurdic Gate, Kotor, Montenegro
One of four entrances into Kotor, this one is probably the most impressive.

St Tryphon Cathedral, Kotor, Montenegro
Built in 809, which makes it pretty old.

Kotor, Montenegro
You'd better enjoy this photo because I climbed about 1,300 steps to get it, up the mountain behind Kotor.

Perast, Montenegro
This car didn't look like it had been selling Coca Cola for a few years.

St George Island, Perast, Montenegro. 
12th century Benedictine monastery. No visitors allowed. Apart from God I imagine. He'd be a bit cross if
they banned Him. 

Gospa od Škrpjela, Montenegro 
I liked these guys. Clearly been doing the job a while but look content enough.

Gospa od Škrpjela, Montenegro 
An artificial island a short ferry ride from Perast and 20 metres across the water from St George Island (a couple of photos above)

Up in the hills above Kotor Bay, Montenegro

Mt Lovcen, Montenegro
The mausoleum of Petar II Petrović-Njegoš, considered the greatest king of Montenegro. 

Cetinje, Montenegro
Just an interesting building that tickled my photographic fancy.

Budva, Montenegro
Trying to do something arty with the shadow of the palm tree on the church but not really succeeding.

Sveti Stefan, Montenegro
That island is actually one giant hotel that was nationalised and made super-exclusive by the Montenegrin government some years ago. Novak Djokovic (Serbian tennis player) was said to be having his wedding there a week or two after this photo was taken. A night there will set you back between 900 and 4000 Euros.

Podgorica, Montenegro
An attempt at some holiday romance but I got the silent treatment.

Morocco In 21 Photos

Seeing as the internet is increasingly list-based, I've jumped on the bandwagon and present here my trip to Morocco in 21 photos. It was an 11-day holiday at the end of September which took in Marrakech, Zagora (The Sahara), Essaouira, Oualidia and El Jadida.

It was a lot of fun, I'd recommend Morocco to anyone. Unless you're a nervous car passenger in which case the taxi drivers will give you a heart attack. Their method of overtaking and weaving through traffic owes a lot in its style to Formula One.

Morocco probably isn't for you if you like a holiday tipple either, it's an Islamic country so they're not big drinkers. However, any health benefits they gain from this, they eradicate by drinking a ton of sugary mint-tea and by smoking at every opportunity. I choose a land with beer and my own teeth when I'm 50.

Anyway, this is meant to be a photographic thing, so enough waffle.

A colourful light stall in the mazy souks of Marrakech. (Photo taken by my Hungarian friend Tomi)

Ali ben Youssef Medersa, Marrakech - was founded in the 14th century as a school for Islamic studies. No longer operating as a school.

A couple of hours south of Marrakech on the way to the Sahara.

Ait Benhaddou, an old Kasbah that has been preserved and proclaimed a UNESCO world heritage site. More importantly, they've filmed Gladiator, Lawrence of Arabia and Game of Thrones there, so you can run around and shout: "My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions and loyal servant to the TRUE emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next."

Rug on a wall at Ait Benhaddou.

Camels in the Sahara. Luckily there is no photo of me actually riding the camel. They are not comfortable and I can see why cars were invented. Also, I got the angry camel that didn't want anyone riding it.

I travel light.

The Djemaa El Fnaa in Marrakech at night when all the food stands arrive and it fills up with people looking to eat various grilled meats on sticks.

I got a job on one of the food stands. I give you good price.

The first evening in Essaouira was an amazing sunset. The sea breeze of Essaouira was a welcome relief to the heat and madness of Marrakech.

One of the prettiest cinemas I've ever seen, in Essaouira. Price of a ticket included a meal and a drink too.

I was told this cat is called Fleabag by a drunk Scotsman in Essaouira who had a great singing voice and kept a bottle of whisky in his back pocket.

At the fish souq in Essaouira. Essentially a fish market used by the locals where you can pick a freshly caught fish, have it gutted in front of you and grilled in an oven in the corner of the market. Tasty.

Essaouira had good sunsets so I took some more photos...

Only one reason why I took this photo: cheap comic effect.

Moroccan pottery of assorted shapes, colours and sizes, Essaouira.

Dinner in Oualidia. Straight out of the sea, onto a barbecue, onto my plate, into my mouth.

The lagooon in Oualidia

This is the Portugese Cistern in El Jadida. Orson Welles filmed Othello here.

Luckily for the fishing boats below, this cannon in El Jadida's Cite Portugaise has not seen any action for a few years

Storks nesting on the walls of the Bahia Palace, Marrakech.

Ich bin ein Berliner

In July 2012, four of us took a man-trip to Berlin for 5 days. It was a lot of fun. In an attempt to be all clever and multimedia, I made a Tumblr about it. Click on the picture above to link to it.

Or just click this link http://berlin-man-trip.tumblr.com/

Scafell Pike 2012

In June 2012, myself and Tom decided to spend a romantic/manly weekend away in the Lake District, and climb Scafell Pike. This is the top of the highest peak in England. Foggy.

Euro Man Voyage 2011

Day 1 – Belgium and Holland

So, setting off from Chandlers Ford at about 9.30am on Sunday, the world was our oyster. Or at least Europe was. The channel tunnel to Calais was our first destination.

Having crossed into France and got to Belgium, we needed somewhere to stop for lunch. The choice was between a town called Diksmuide, and a town with a much less amusing name. An easy choice was made.

In the evening we stayed on a Botel (Boat-Hotel) in Maastricht, Holland, run by a man who kept a large basket of eggs on the reception desk. In case of some egg based emergency perhaps. Despite it being a Sunday night, we managed to find a blues bar that was populated mainly by chain smoking old men.

Day 2 – Luxembourg and France

Leaving the Botel behind and off to Luxembourg for lunch. And whilst there we picked up Alistair Gill, aka the International Gentleman Traveller. He's a man that the Horton clan like to meet up with in foreign lands. And it's a good job we did, because an unscheduled stop in Strasbourg was necessitated by a stone putting a bloody great crack in the windscreen of our chariot.

Happily, Strasbourg turned out to be a lovely place. We ate in a restaurant that had it's own microbrewery, with a Russian lady named Anya. Then we went to a bar and played pool. We left the bar when a small Algerian man started waving his pool cue at us in a suggestive way. I'll leave to your imagination.

Day 3 – Interlaken, Switzerland

This was the first time we noticed the decadent ways of Phil. Over lunch the next day, he ordered foie gras for lunch. It cost at least twice as much as what the rest of us had. And then he decided he didn't like foie gras. So he didn't even eat it. A quite awesome lesson in extravagance, from someone who has seemingly managed to leave the student lifestyle behind them with little regret.

After leaving Strasbourg and our hotel on the unfortunately named Rue de Bitche, it was off to the picturesque Interlaken in Switzerland. Where we were staying in a kind of semi-permanent tent. The first of two tent-type places that we stayed in on the trip. Quick word of advice: Tent hostels are not a good idea. Four walls and a ceiling is a much warmer and more sleep-conducive idea.

Whilst Nick and Chris went canyoning, Phil and myself took the novelty cave exploring option and were treated to a history lesson about a monk who defeated a dragon with only his walking staff. We also found some good animatronic puppets, which is always a joy.

Day 4 – Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland

The second time that Alistair came into his own as a renowned International Gentleman Traveller, was to suggest that we go join him in Lauterbrunnen, just half an hour outside Interlaken, up in the mountains. So we went to stay at the Matratzenlager Stocki, run by Frau Graff, a friendly old Swiss lady who has been taking care of patrons since 1966!

Now, Lauterbrunnen is quite literally one of the most picturesque places I have ever been to. In the middle of a grassy valley, there are mountains either side, with waterfalls cascading out of them and a bigger snow-capped mountain in the distance. It's like a giant orgasm for your eyes. Not that that bears thinking about.

Also in the same chalet as us were some Base-Jumpers. They are lunatics. If they see beautiful mountains, the first thought that goes through their head is whether there's a good place on it to hurl themselves off of. Different strokes for different folks I guess...

Day 5 – Breakfast in Switzerland, lunch in Lichtenstein, Dinner in Austria. And bed in Munich. Phew.

So, this was the day we visited Lichtenstein. I wouldn't call it a life-changing experience, but hey, when will I ever go to Lichtenstein again? Chris bought the most expensive fridge magnet of his ever-increasing collection; expensive because of the crazy exchange rate and relative wealth of the tiny principality. And we visited the Post Museum. Oh the dazzling array of letter openers they had. And that was Lichtenstein.

We weren't sure if we really had time to visit Innsbruck after our unscheduled stop in Strasbourg, but we had planned to have dinner in Austria from the beginning, so why not stop off in Austria en route to Munich? Seemed like a reasonable and in no way extravagant idea. So, we had dinner in Innsbruck, in the middle of some kind of Medieval festival while Innsbruck did it's best to convince us not to leave.

We arrived in Munich by 11pm, and were greeted by the sight of the second tent-hostel of the trip. This one was worse than the first. Imagine a giant refugee camp full of rickety bunk beds. It was essentially a massive tent that slept 160 in bunk beds.

The only saving grace was it only cost €10 for the night. But, cheap accommodation tends to attract the weirdos. Hence I heard one American ask a Dutch guy the following question, in all seriousness: “So, what is there to do in Amsterdam other than smoke weed and bang prostitutes?” Classy.

Day 6 – Munich

In Munich we managed to have one of the most German days you could have really. We had history with a walking tour of Munich about the beginnings of the Third Reich. We had food, eating more currywurst and bratwurst than you could shake a meaty stick at. We had fashion, in the form of trying on some rather fetching lederhosen.

And of course, in the country with the highest beer consumption per person in the world, we had beer. Would have been rude not to. Needless to say, the evening gets a bit hazy.

Day 7 – Heidelberg

After a slow (read: hungover) start to the day (entirely Munich's fault for selling beer by the litre!) we took a trip to the toy museum in Munich. Then, it was off to Heidelberg, a place we chose based on the advice of some of the locals we spoke during the previous night's festivities. Oh, and because it had a castle, and what could be manlier on a Euro Man Voyage than checking out a castle? Nothing.

We also took a moonlit walk along a bridge that had a lot of couples kissing on it. Possibly some kind of lovers bridge? Either way, it reminded me a bit of when myself and Nick accidentally walked through a gay cruising spot in Kuala Lumpur. These things happen. Honestly.

Day 8 – Trier and back home

Back in the old days, Trier was the Roman capital for Western Europe, so it's got a fair bit of history. The last destination on our trip, Trier saw the Euro Man Voyage winding to a gentle close, before we covered quite a few miles on the drive home. But we still had time to go to the Karl Marx museum, which was originally the house he grew up in, until the age of about 17, and we also squeezed in a cheeky Roman amphitheatre. We may or may not have pretended to be in the film Gladiator.

Distance covered in car: 1984 miles!!