Monday, JUNE 30

Monday, June 30 = (City Mostar - Maps)

At awakening, my first thoughts go to my mother, if alive today would be 94 years.
This city, I seemed sad, or maybe it's just my impression, it is too vague for the time this particular world of the East.
I decide to leave immediately, but have not made an excellent breakfast of sausages and potatoes, with accompaniment of a good mug of beer.

48 km Jablanica - 23 km Konijc - 44 km arrival in Sarajevo - Maps (115 km tot)

Capital = Sarajevo Bosnia Erzgovina population = 304,000

Three years of siege, even today you can remember, having buildings in the suburbs and those in the area of government buildings that still bear the marks of the destructive madness of men.
Today, this historic city is slowly returning to normalcy, tourists began to be more than "curious" scenarios War.
Bascarsija, the old center has been completely restored, I go away at the Ferhadija, the most elegant, with cafes,...




shops, very freguentata and a visit to the Turkish bazaar.
Pass the time to stroll to this very area admiring the excellent restoration work done and I visit the Mosque of Gazi Husrev Bey, with the minaret of 45mt and the Orthodox Church, but the most interesting was the Turkish bath, where I went for a pleasant and relaxing steam bath and an invigorating massage, done this time, by gentle hands of a female, a sweet girl who massaged me in while I was talking to her, his family and sadly of her boyfriend, thus shut on nascere, bellicose thoughts immodest.
I forgot to tell you that there are problems of housing, I found a small family run pension and cost.
It 'time for dinner, on the advice of the masseuse I go to a pizzeria that an Italian, with Bosnian partners opened a few years ago.
Not only serve pizza, look appetizing dishes of Bosnian cuisine, I take advantage and I do serve lamb and minced beef, potatoes and usual Travnik cheese similar to feta, mint and plenty of everything at a cost low, a coffee is we want to finish with a flourish.
Passeggio to dispose of an excellent dinner, I find myself going through the "way of snipers," sad place of demercazione between different concepts to understand the membership of a nation.
The last person I thought to meet and converse with a lady malmessa with three dogs on a leash, strolling in a garden, age is indefinable, and anointed his hair yellow.
It did not look very good, but her eyes shine el'affetto demonstrating against the three animals, is tender, the way instinct leads me to make a caress to the smallest of the three, I was approached scodinzolando, the woman , draws the little alarmed, but he did not even hear, continues to strusciarsi like a cat in my pants, I say not to worry that I'm glad, I love animals.

"More people know the more I love animals."

My response and further to my last thought she invites me to sit near the bench.
Happy to speak with someone who loves animals I says:

'It is true, men can only be wrong, I too love animals more that humans, called "Human", envy, selfishness, hatred, are all that can grow.
Have you noticed how this city was reduced for their imbecility?
Now it seems that everything is past, the cosmetic facade of the houses, does not lessen the cultural divisions and even hatred is cultivated under the ashes.
I was a happy woman dell'assedio first, my husband is Catholic and Serbian, and Bosnian Muslim io.
Others have decided for us, dividing them in the name of an absurd belonging to ethnic groups and religions.
When the Republic was united, nationalists of various areas dell'Jugoslavia, as they sought power in decision-making in the country, our commander Titus, knew to keep them under control and although our society has not been the best of democracy, at least did not give way to insane criminals unleash this Civil War fraticida.
He died, the politicians scatenaro their separatist ambitions, and the result was 100,000 dead, which is very rough by default, do not ever know how many, throughout the territory of Yugoslavia.
I had a son, then 15, was from my relatives in Srebrenica, I do not know anything about him or my family since 1995, probably one day find their bones in a grave.
Throughout Bosnia will notice in your journey, cross over to adjacent roads go, the men buried there are women and children, innocent victims of blind madness racist. "

One of the dogs barking spazientito, caring woman pampers him, baciandolo on their heads and saying goodbye, he goes through the streets of this city apparently reborn to new life, but none will make this a wife and mother lost the happiness and his love for its like.
But now you go to sleep, tomorrow I expect a very quiet road.
> (DIARY DAY FOLLOWING JULY 1 )