Today I was kind of luckey with the weather, it was raining during the night and whilst I had my lunch break in a bar. Once it was drizzling a bit, but that still counts as humid air (I get more wet from transpiration if I would wear the raincoat).
I was following the Una, a beautiful river with blue-gray-green water and a lot of small rapids and a couple of waterfalls. I had to stop often to get close to the water to watch and listen. After Bosanska Krupa the canyon swallowed me. It was almost surreal. The road and the rails intertwined through this narrow valley next to the rivers (this is not yet the surreal part), the sky was covered and there was little light, but the trees were shining in all tones of green, yellow and, red in contrast to the colder colors of the river. Between the villages that squeezed in whenever the canyon got a tiny bit wider, there where a couple of houses, that probably fulfilled some railway related function, where the chimney was all that was left from the upper floors.
I rode leisurely the entire distance today, but still it was an effort trying to have some continuity. I just did not really feel like riding. Presumably this is the aftermath of the sport the past two days, I mean there has to be something, because the knies are perfectly fine, and my leather button is unbreakable by now.
After I saw neglected mosques the days before, today I saw churches that did not seem to fulfill their purpose and the language slightly changed.
Bihac seems to be a cool city though. I found it striking how much more young people give life to the last couple of cities I past, compared to some German or Swiss cities. In Poland I also got sometimes that impression.
B.t.w. Wolter managed the third thousand without a flat tire. He's keeping up great with my sometimes a bit careless driving style.
I was following the Una, a beautiful river with blue-gray-green water and a lot of small rapids and a couple of waterfalls. I had to stop often to get close to the water to watch and listen. After Bosanska Krupa the canyon swallowed me. It was almost surreal. The road and the rails intertwined through this narrow valley next to the rivers (this is not yet the surreal part), the sky was covered and there was little light, but the trees were shining in all tones of green, yellow and, red in contrast to the colder colors of the river. Between the villages that squeezed in whenever the canyon got a tiny bit wider, there where a couple of houses, that probably fulfilled some railway related function, where the chimney was all that was left from the upper floors.
I rode leisurely the entire distance today, but still it was an effort trying to have some continuity. I just did not really feel like riding. Presumably this is the aftermath of the sport the past two days, I mean there has to be something, because the knies are perfectly fine, and my leather button is unbreakable by now.
After I saw neglected mosques the days before, today I saw churches that did not seem to fulfill their purpose and the language slightly changed.
Bihac seems to be a cool city though. I found it striking how much more young people give life to the last couple of cities I past, compared to some German or Swiss cities. In Poland I also got sometimes that impression.
B.t.w. Wolter managed the third thousand without a flat tire. He's keeping up great with my sometimes a bit careless driving style.
