At first we weren’t going to visit Banja Luka, which is the largest city in the Serbian part of Bosnia and Herzegovina. But we had four contacts in the city, a place to stay, and a cyclist who we were told we “had to meet.”

We had one of our best days yet in the city. Tihomir, one of the country’s leading cycling advocates, showed us a better route to Sarajevo (outlined below), our host Sasa served us watermelon and Nektar (local beer), and Namanja gave us a tour of the city. Everyone was open to talking about Bosnia’s history. That will require a longer entry. 

The route that Tihomir showed us would add a day or two of travel, meaning that we might have to hitchhike or take a bus to make our final destination (Dubrovnik) on time. We have opted for better biking over transportation purity. 

After a lazy morning, where Sasa cooked us eggs and onions fresh from his garden and his own chickens, we followed route 16 south out of Banja Luka. The road led us through a deep canyon–the first of many that we’d see. Traffic wasn’t bad, but the road was narrow. We swam in the river at lunchtime. 

A few thousand feet of climbing later, largely on secondary roads, we arrived at Boro’s place. Boro is an artist who lives in the woods, has cabins that he rents out, a bar, clean water from a stream that you can drink untreated, and soft grass for free camping. We wish we could have stayed another few nights. 

(Note that there should be a map here. If you see blank space, it is because we are having technical difficulties with Strava, our mapping tool.)

The next day, we started late and took our time. We were forced to stop by a family who was roasting a goat and drinking rakia, a homemade plum liquor very popular here. They made us each take three shots of the rakia, and cut some of the goat and wrapped it for us to eat later. I wish I knew what they were saying. Our Serbo-Croatian (the language here) is not so hot, and neither was their English. 

We then took a big detour. Tihomir had told us to leave the main road to see the source of the Pliva River. We mistakenly turned off the route too early, and instead of following a paved road five km on mostly flat terrain, we biked  eight km and climbed 400 meters on a dirt road. Lindsey wasn’t happy. At least the view at the top was good, and we found some shade by a lookout to eat our goat. 

We camped that night hidden off the road after making sure, through charades and a handful of Serbo-Croatian words, that there were no land mines in area. 

Our third day was one of the most haunting but also one of the most beautiful and fascinating. It had rained the night before, and it was overcast and cool all day. We biked across a high plateau most of the day, staying over 1,000 meters until the afternoon. We passed through numerous towns where the majority of the homes had been destroyed durning the war — evidence of the ethnic cleansing (technically religious cleansing, as everyone was the same “ethnicity”) that occurred here less than two decades ago. Some houses had “HVO,” the initials of the Croatian militia, written on their walls. In those towns, Croatian militias most likely forced Muslims (who spoke the same language and were the same ethnicity as them) from their homes. 

We descended and camped by a reservoir that night, where the people’s house we camped behind served us pita (not the pocket bread, but a delicious pastry filled with cheese, potato, or meat – we’ve become a bit addicted) and tried to get us drunk and married. We didn’t get an early start the next morning. 

The final day of our route to Sarajevo would require riding on a busy, narrow road, climbing over 500 meters, and biking through many long tunnels. Given that we are sadly getting short on time, we pulled over and stuck our thumbs out. After about 40 minutes, a man with a small mayonnaise company truck who spoke almost no English picked us up and drove us 40 km up the hill and through the tunnels. He pointed at the many mosques we passed and said “terrorists.” We guessed that he wasn’t Muslim. 

The following two maps are the riding before and after the hitchhiking. 

We are now in Sarajevo, staying in the apartment of a cyclist who will be biking across California in another month (it’s great to be hosted by someone who we can host so soon.) We have met a few people from the local youth Rotary Club (thanks to Namanja in Banja Luka), who have showed us some of the city, and shared their experiences from the war. Sarajevo endured the longest siege in modern history–almost four years–and bullet and shrapnel holes pocket sidewalks and many buildings. Although unlike the abandoned villages we rode through, though, Sarajevo appears to be thriving. The old town is bustling with tourists, and has mosques, churches, and even a synagogue. New buildings stand next to bombed out ones. We really like this city. 

Since Budapest, we  have logged long days on mostly flat terrain, largely as we’ve been eager to get to Bosnia and also have enough time for the beaches of Croatia. We are now in Banja Luka, Bosnia and Herzegovina’s second largest city. We’ve been fortunate to have cooler weather and tailwinds. 

Below is the day by day, as recorded by my Garmin 500 and Strava. 
(We’re having some technical difficulties with Strava, so the maps aren’t always displaying below. If there are big blank spaces below, it is because the maps aren’t showing up.)

We left our Budapest flat at about 1 pm (actually, Dora’s flat), stopped by the former Jewish district, visited a Soviet statue park outside of town, and then pedaled south along the Danube. About half an hour before sunset,  we figured we should start thinking about where to camp. We were lucky: in the small town of Szigetsanmiklos, we ran into an American, Bart, who had married a Hungarian woman and was visiting his in-laws. We pitched a tent in grandma’s yard, and Bart told us what it was like to be an American living in Hungary. 

We followed Europe’s official bike route 6 south along the Danube, which was beautiful, but it was dirt more often than not. We went inland and followed the busier, much faster road to cover more distance. Also, tailwinds! Score!

A little before sunset, we returned to the Danube bike trail and found a spot along the river to camp. 

The next day was another long one following the Danube south. We spent 1.5 hours and 13 kilometers in Serbia (which had real border control as it apparently isn’t in the EU). We left without even learning the currency, as we biked into Croatia, where we spent the night on a recently cut hay field. That involved a fun interaction with a local farmer, who gave us permission to camp – but warned us of the wild pigs (more people speak German than English, but with a little snorting and miming it was easy to figure out what “shvine” meant).

We passed through the “overwhelmingly pleasant” Croatian town of Ocijek, took a siesta in Dakovo, and then crossed into Bosnia and Herzegovina, another non-EU country. Fortunately, on bikes, we didn’t have to wait in the long line of cars to cross. 

Before crossing, we met a Croat who spoke English and who told us that he used to live in Bosnia, but fled during the war. He said that no more Croats lived across the border; they had all been forced to leave. He also told us that the area along the border had been heavily bombed and that there was “nothing there.” He was right.

The first 20 kilometers in Bosnia felt like biking through a house graveyard–the road was lined by numerous empty brick buildings whose roofs appeared to have been burned away over a decade ago. Many had trees growing inside and gaping holes in their sides. Some had newish, inhabited homes right next to them, but in other areas there were no people or inhabited buildings. It was creepy. 

After biking 130km to Derventa, we got a hotel for the second time this trip. we were tired and dirty and thrilled when the first people we talked to spoke English and pointed us to a guesthouse and market (to buy breakfast in anticipation of an early departure the next day). After showers and laundry we went downstairs to the attached restaurant where, in response to “We are very hungry. Can you make us something delicious? With French fries?” we were served what we are calling Bosnia burgers. They were delicious. As were the fries. 

Getting the earliest start of the trip, we left at 5:30 & biked about 50 miles to Banja Luka along a road that was busier than we would have liked. There were some nice stretches, though, with haystacks and views of the river, and by noon we rolled into Banja Luka where we will meet several contacts from the biking and couch-surfing community. It’s the biggest city we’ve seen since Budapest. It is very hot. 

Thanks to satellites and Strava, we have recorded our riding distance each day. Below is each day of riding from Krakow to Budapest. Photos from Poland are here, and Slovakia are here. So far, we’ve biked about 380 miles, of which about 340 were “on route.”

When I have more time (probably at the end of the ride), I’ll write more about each day–biking through the heat in Poland, learning how to say “tent” and “one night” in Polish so that we could pitch a tent behind a house, riding over the Tatras mountains, taking  a cable car to the top of these mountains, camping in a Slovak national  park, spending our “rest day” with a friendly Slovak who took us on a “short” 40 mile ride, meeting Gypsy children, and riding almost a century to arrive in Budapest. 

We’ve had great hosts so far–Iwo, Maciek, Magda, Stefan, Victoria, and Dora’s mother & brother, Clara and Marci. Not only have these people taken us into their homes, but they’ve also helped us understand what it means to live in Poland, Slovakia, and Hungary. 

Now, on to Croatia and Bosnia. 

Our second and third nights in Poland we stayed with Maciek and Magda, a young couple active in Krakow's bike touring community. Here they are saying “Welcome to Poland” in Polish:

From SFO to Krakow’s John Paul II Airport, according to my GPS (which I left on the entire flight), we logged almost 6,000 miles of flying.

I uploaded this flight to Strava (a website for sharing bike rides recorded by GPS), but for some reason, Strava didn’t think we had biked the distance, and didn’t process it (Strava wouldn’t believe we were biking at 500 miles an hour).

We were met at the airport by Iwo, who we met via the warm showers website, at eleven thirty at night. He led us, by bike, about four kilometers to his house.

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Tarrapass estimates that by flying, we emitted, combined, about 5,000 pounds of carbon dioxide. By biking from the airport instead of driving, I estimated that we saved about one to two pounds. (Here’s the blog entry on buying offsets.)