The reality was more pedestrian one of the tires had blown out. We limped into the city, covering the last 10 kilometers in about 45 minutes. Mostar still retains the classic war-torn look one sees in films like Saving Private Ryan or Full Metal Jacket. Unfortunately, it is not a set. As we passed behind the nicest hotel in town, I saw the main street that had served as the frontline lined with uninhabitable buildings, pockmarked by shelling and bullets.
Local residents don t feel comfortable crossing from one side to another.
Croatian flags with the old Ustase iconography wave in the shadow of a giant steeple under construction. The steeple is truly ludicrous, dominating the skyline, littered with damaged minarets. The two streets leading up to the church complex are lined with shops that sell religious trinkets from rosaries to holy water containers. Buses pull in from Split and Dubrovnik disgorging elderly men and women for a few hours. Rather than attending the six o clock service when the Virgin s message of the day is read, my friend and I hoped for a few beers.