21 August 2025 (hazy and hot, 32C) 82km

After listening to the Germans with the little entitled brat, stay up talking til after 1pm and then start doing dishes in the wash house alongside where our tent was, banging the dishes on the stainless steel sink bench, I have come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter what nationality you are, there are inconsiderate people in all. It just so happens that on this trip, Germans lead that poll.

The poor Bosnians on the other side of us ( the late arrives), were lovely and I felt sorry for the fact that the reception guy hadn't told them that we were leaving at 6am in the morning.

Because of their proximity to our tent, they couldn't help but hear us leaving, even though talking was non existent. 

Away at 6.20am with the thought that I should tie a rope to the noisy Germans tent pole and ride away really quickly, hence pulling the tent down (but more than likely, pulling me off the back of the bike), but we rode quietly out of camp. 

(Ju here. I could tell Pete was plotting revenge so I quietly stashed the tomato slicing knife before he took to the kids inflatable toy laying carelessly at the edge of their camp, it's plumped up surfaces almost begging for a frenzied attack by a fellow disgruntled camper. Not that I had thought of doing that myself.) Back to Pete.

On the way to Ploce today.

That meant some climbing over these big rocks and taking us away from the coast, inland to a lake at the village of Bacina.

Saying goodbye to the coast for now....

Throughout the climb today, which was a gradual gradient and went smoothly, we encountered two people who were a little different.

Firstly, remember, we are climbing on main roads and they are busy.

The first guy is walking into the traffic (which he should be) with two little dogs and a trailer, which he really shouldn't be doing.

That itself is very dangerous with the amount of traffic and driver types on the road.

He was foreign, but immediately began talking English after we said "Hello". He warned us about the bad weather approaching this afternoon.

We weren't going to stop and have a full on conversation on a dodgy part of road, so we thanked him and kept moving. A shame really as we could tell he'd been on the road a long time as he had that dishevelled look to him, and it would have been interesting to hear his story. But I hate to say that he's been walking in the sun, on his own, for far too long.

We have met these types of traveller before. Out too long and very little in the way of social interaction, usually because people tend to shy away. 

The second guy, probably in his fifties, headphones in, walking, but possibly thinking that he was running, due to his awkward gait, wasn't interactive at all and he was walking with the traffic.

The only good thing with that is that when you get hit by a ten ton truck, hopefully you won't know a thing about it. 

Ju here. We then came across a young Austrian bikepacker from Innsbruck who was also cycling to Albania. We haven't met many cycle tourers of any sort since we left France really. He had been on the road a week and travelled 1000 kms. Obviously not taking a huge amount of photos or stopping for swims.

He had just climbed an off road track and got his third puncture in a week. We asked him if he had everything he needed and he said yes, but didn't know how to change the tyre without someone holding his bike.

Pete deliberately ignored this subtle plea for help and gave him the fatherly advice to "just turn your bike upside down lad", and we pedalled off. Before you think, 'oh, how mean', he'll never learn if people keep doing it for him and besides that, he needed to slow down and smell the flowers anyway. Whereas if we slow down any more, all the flowers will have died before we get there! Back to Pete.

Although there was some wind, it was nice and cooling as we slogged up the hills heading slightly inland now. Up and over the top and down to a lookout overlooking a lake.

Nice enough, but very average after what weve been swimming in this past week. Into the harbour town of Ploce.

Doesn't rank in the aesthetic ratings and after I visited the supermarket to get breakfast, it doesn't rank in the personality stakes either.

Had breakfast overlooking the marina and the skungy township. Best thing about it was they had a five a side stadium, which I forgot to shoot. 

We weren't sure how far we'd go today as the forecast was a bit average and there weren't too many campgrounds in this vicinity. Now we were in this vicinity, we could see why. 

There was a campground by the lakes but seeing as we were here by breakfast, we decided to continue riding and head for Buna, just south of Mostar, where there was a small camp. 

On main road initially which was busy and aggressive. Funny how some roads are busy, but the drivers seem more considerate. This road they seemed in an awful hurry with no tolerance for cyclists. Thankfully we weren't on it for long.

Turned off and we virtually had this road to ourselves as it ran alongside a canal, with the main road on the other side.

This was flat, traffic-free riding and very enjoyable. We stopped in the town of Komin to get a cold bottle of water and carried on.

About 10.30am, we crossed the border back into Bosnia. We dot stamped out of Croatia, but not stamped into Bosnia. As we have received two stamps on both prior crossings, I queried the Bosnian official. Apparently they don't have a stamp and he assured me we'd be fine as we'd been stamped out of Croatia. Seems weird that border control don't have a stamp. Isn't that the very essence of their job?

Initially we had a very nice road surface, but it wasn't long before the roadside rubbish increased dramatically and we started to notice more unfinished buildings.

We were on that road a while before beginning the Ciro trail, an old railway line which took us virtually into the town of Buna. 

On the trail we met Ralf, from St Moritz who was cycling to Albania, then Brindisi, in Italy and then home.Telling us about an episode with rabid dogs in Slovenia, near Ljublana, which he got away with, but talked to another guy with scars on his calves, where he'd been bitten. 

Ju here. I was a little worried about the Ciro trail as I couldn't find any up to date info on it. What info I did find mentioned hard, rocky surfaces in parts and eleven tunnels with ankle deep bat droppings. That was from 2019 though, so I hoped things had improved since then. Boy had they ever.

It looked like the trail had been newly sealed with hot mix (thanks Ernst and Margrit. Can't believe you're still working your magic!) and we crossed our fingers that this would last a long time.

There were also a lot of fig trees, just dripping with ripe fruit. They had the green figs which we're used to (yellow/green when ripe) and also black figs. Same shape, same size and same purple colour in the middle, and also delicious. We have become big fans of fresh figs.

We hadn't been on the trail long when we came upon the town of Capljina, where we had trouble locating a supermarket but finally found one that sold tomatoes and nectarines, which we wanted for lunch.

Found a nearby children's playground which was completely deserted with one lonely seat in the shade. Wasn't a great outlook as the playground was strewn with litter, scrubby grass and generally unkempt, much like the entire town of Capljina.

We sat on the bench, enjoying the shade and our iced coffee from a can. I had cashews and a nectarine as usual, Pete had peanuts, an apple and a tomato sandwich. I got up to walk the short distance to the rubbish bin, was walking back to my seat when a woman (Grandma I'm picking), with four kids comes along and starts lining up the kids' bottles right where I'd been sitting ten seconds earlier. By now I'm back at the seat and she plonks herself down in my spot, perched just in front of the drink bottles. 

Pete smirked at me, mouthing, “I've still got it!” I was tempted to leave him with it. Grandma and four under 8, every man's dream!

Pete with his animal magnetism.

At this point he'd already pulled our belongings to his end of the bench, as they were all along the bench before she sat down.

We had finished lunch anyway so we just started washing up and packing up around her while she lit up a fag with absolutely zero acknowledgement of us. 

We were glad to get out of that dilapidated city and back on the trail which was fantastic.

The only downside was that there was the odd vehicle on it who would usually drive too fast, too close, or both. Maybe we're just used to more space in NZ. Or maybe this thoughtless uncaring nature that we see exhibited in the way they treat their environment, extends to their fellow human beings. Back to Pete.

Reached Buna, with its amazing river and tributaries (see photos).

Back on crazy main road for a couple of kms, before picking up some supplies for dinner and to the camp. 

Nice little riverside camp so put tent up (just inner) and into the river for a dip. Water was cold, but refreshing.

Julia showered, I wrote and then I went in for another swim and got talking to Lee and Catherine from the North West. He's a Man City supporter, but I overlooked that as they are also the first English people I've spoken to in a long while.

They're travelling in a van they've done up, around Europe for twelve weeks.

They too thought we were mad for travelling on bikes, but could understand why.

After a lovely Mexican tuna with avocado, tomato and rice dinner, we blogged and prepared for a heavy thunderstorm supposed to come in tonight and all day tomorrow.