Over Easter, we left Dubrovnik by bus and rolled through the wild, sun‑washed hills of Herzegovina, arriving in Mostar where the Stari Most arched gracefully over the emerald Neretva. This Ottoman‑era masterpiece, destroyed in the 1990s war and later rebuilt stone by stone, still carries the heartbeat of the city’s history. Around it, slender minarets, cobblestone alleys, and market stalls hinted at centuries of Ottoman and Austro‑Hungarian influences. We lingered over plates of ćevapi and flaky burek, followed by the ritual of strong Bosnian coffee served in copper džezvas, its rich aroma mingling with the spring air. Between the call to prayer and the chime of Easter bells, Mostar felt like a living bridge between cultures, where resilience and warmth are served as generously as the food.
