Journey to Bosnia (12)
Tuesday, 9th of Dhul-Hijjah, 1447 AH
We leisurely enjoyed our breakfast at the hotel restaurant, enveloped in a sense of tranquility yet tinged with a hint of hesitation and confusion: Should we fast on the Day of Arafah, hoping for its immense virtue and abundant reward, or should we avail ourselves of Allah’s concession for travelers and break our fast, as He, the Exalted, has stated in His clear revelation: “Allah intends for you ease and does not intend for you hardship”? We recognized that the Shariah, in its leniency and mercy, has provided the concession in obligatory fasting to alleviate hardship and ease the soul. How then could we not embrace it in voluntary fasting while on a journey, constantly moving from city to city, alternating between long roads, captivating scenes, and activities that consume significant energy?
This conversation unfolded among us in the calm of the morning, mingling with the aroma of coffee and the cool mountain breezes, accompanied by that delightful feeling that envelops a traveler when poised between rest and travel, between reflection and enjoyment. Ultimately, we decided to break our fast, not out of disdain for the reward, but embracing Allah’s ease and with the conviction that religion was not meant to burden souls beyond their capacity, but rather to serve as mercy, guidance, and tranquility.
We departed the hotel at half-past nine in the morning, heading towards the city of Mostar, at times traveling alongside the Neretva River, and at other times passing through small towns and villages. Nature unfolded before us in its most splendid form; towering mountains stood like guardians of the earth, sparkling rivers glistened under the sunlight, and scattered houses on the slopes appeared like fragments of ancient tales. As we progressed along the road, we increasingly felt that this land had been granted a generous share of natural beauty; trees swayed gently, valleys stretched in majestic stillness, and clouds floated above the peaks like white specters guarding this silent beauty.
The road to Mostar held a special charm; it was not merely a transition from one place to another, but a journey into the heart of nature, delighting the eyes and awakening deep contemplation within the soul. It seemed as if time had slowed slightly, and the world had shed its clamor, leaving the traveler a space of serenity found only in such distant paths.
Shortly after passing Konjic, we arrived at one of the most captivating and soul-stirring spots in Bosnia, a place where water meets mountain, tranquility meets grandeur, and the Neretva River appears as if emerging from hidden paradises untouched by human feet. The location, near Jablanica, was surrounded by mountains on all sides, interspersed with valleys and springs, and dotted with remarkable karst rocks sculpted by nature over centuries, resembling the works of an ancient artist never weary of creativity.
The water of the Neretva River was exceptionally clear, so much so that one could almost see the pebbles in its depths as clearly as seeing an object in one’s hand, and its purity made it seem like a piece of liquid crystal. This river has long been known for its cold waters, sweet fish, especially trout, and its enchanting mountainous environment, combining harshness and beauty simultaneously. We gazed at this nature with a silent wonder, for sometimes the soul is unable to express itself when unexpectedly confronted with such beauty.
This river was not merely a place of beauty but also a witness to history and its pains; in these areas, the famous Battle of Neretva took place in 1943 during World War II, when Yugoslav partisans clashed fiercely with Axis forces amidst the mountains and valleys. In Jablanica, a ruined iron bridge still stands over the river, a somber relic of war, reminding visitors that this serene nature once witnessed the harsh days of human history.
We then prepared ourselves for the experience of river rafting, one of the most enjoyable activities in these lands, where one boards a small inflatable boat and, with companions, paddles lightly over the swift river current. The boat sways at times, surges forward at others, and almost flies over the water at times, making the rider feel as if they are part of this wild current.
We were nearly eighty men, so we rented many boats and dispersed in groups over the water, our spirits a mix of enthusiasm and anticipation. As soon as the boats surged into the river’s flow, everything changed; laughter and calls filled the air, cold water droplets scattered over faces and clothes, and the boats descended with the current and then rose, like small leaves playfully tossed by nature’s gentle hand.
رحلة إلى نهر نيريتفا وموستار
The water was intensely cold, almost stinging the skin, and we heard from some locals that the Neretva is one of the coldest rivers in Europe. We were not surprised, for each time we dipped our hands into it, a shiver coursed through our bodies. Yet, this very coldness was a source of strange delight, sharpening the senses and clearing the mind. We did not content ourselves with staying in the boats; some of us descended into the water, enveloped by its chilly waves, laughing like children caught unawares by unexpected joy.
We continued rowing for over two hours, oblivious to the passage of time, as nature captivated us entirely. The silent mountains, the shimmering water, and the trees bending over the riverbanks created a rare world of tranquility around us, making one feel as though the clamor and concerns of civilization were far, far away. The river’s water was so pure that we drank directly from it, finding nothing but sweet coldness and pristine clarity, as if it had just emerged from the heart of the mountain. When the journey ended, we felt a slight melancholy, for beautiful moments are fleeting, leaving behind a quiet imprint akin to nostalgia, accompanying us whenever we recall the place, the water, and our companions.
We left the river, pleasantly exhausted, with a remarkable sense of clarity, and headed at three in the afternoon to the “Lamb House Jablanica” restaurant, renowned among travelers in Bosnia, a stop almost no one bypasses on the route between Sarajevo and Mostar without pausing for a moment to enjoy both food and nature. The road to the restaurant ran alongside the Neretva River, which travelers never tire of gazing at; it flows between the mountains with majestic calm, like a green thread of emerald cutting through the valley. The mountains encircled the area on all sides, high and silent, while Lake Jablanicko stretched out in a strange stillness, formed behind the Jablanica Dam, appearing like a vast mirror reflecting the sky, clouds, and mountains in a scene beyond imagination.
People did not visit this restaurant for the food alone but for the natural scene that grants the diner a feeling of peace and delight; there, the traveler eats with eyes fixed on the flowing water, the steadfast mountains, and the cool breeze from the valley that tempers the day’s heat. When we reached the restaurant, we found it bustling with visitors from various countries, seated on terraces overlooking the river, conversing quietly and enjoying that rare blend of natural beauty and simple life. The most famous dish served was roasted lamb, a tradition Jablanica has been known for since ancient times; the whole lamb is slaughtered, cleaned, and prepared with care, then hung over the fire to slowly rotate for hours until the meat is perfectly cooked, its aroma mingling with the wood smoke in a fragrance that whets the appetite and awakens the senses.
We witnessed the lamb preparation with our own eyes, seeing the lambs lined up before the fire, slowly turning over the glowing embers, with small droplets of fat sizzling as they touched the flames, while smoke rose into the air mixed with the savory scent of roasting. This scene held a simplicity reminiscent of old rural life, reminding one of village and mountain life when food was prepared leisurely and eaten in tranquility, far from the rush and noise of cities.
We sat at our tables overlooking the valley, hunger having taken hold after the rowing journey and long road, and we approached the food with joy and comfort. The meat was tender and flavorful, imbued with the taste of roasting and the scent of wood, making one feel as though they were partaking not just of food, but of the spirit and history of the place. Before us, the Neretva River flowed in its beautiful silence, indifferent to travelers and conversations, as if continuing its eternal journey for thousands of years. We looked at it from time to time, feeling that nature’s beauty enhanced the meal’s pleasure, and that some tables are unforgettable not only for the food they bear but for the surrounding scenery, companionship, and peace of mind.
We departed Jablanica at seven in the evening, as the sun began to set, casting hues of gold and red over the mountains and lake, making nature appear as if bidding farewell to the day in a solemn, silent celebration. The road to Mostar was quiet at that hour, with only the sound of the car cutting through the stillness, while we reminisced about the day’s long scenes; the clarity of the Neretva River, its cold waters, the laughter of friends on the boats, to that delicious lunch on the valley’s banks between the mountains and water.
We arrived in Mostar around eight at night, finding the city tranquil under the evening lights, blending in its features the influence of the East and the spirit of the West, between the fragrance of history and the remnants of war that have not entirely left memory. We checked into a reputable hotel where comfortable rooms awaited us, some opting for rest after the day’s exertions, while others stood by the windows contemplating the scattered city lights in the stillness.
Mostar is a city with a complex history, where the scars of division remain evident between its Muslim and Catholic Christian inhabitants, and the old war has left in the souls a sense of caution and tension, even though the guns have been silent for years. The city appears calm and reassuring to the observer, yet beneath this calm lies a long history of pain and heavy memories. Night had fallen as we finally retired to our rooms, fatigue having taken its toll, yet within us was a deep peace that only travel can grant when it combines the beauty of nature with good company, and when one feels they have lived a full day rich with scenes and experiences that linger long in memory.
However, our journey with Mostar had not yet begun; tomorrow, after the Eid prayer, God willing, we will explore the city, visit its landmarks and ancient bridges, and discover the beauty, history, and stories this city holds.