Although a bar girl in Dubrovnik tells me there is very little chance I will find a ride from Croatia to Bosnia and Herzegovina because of the history of the two countries, I wake up early in the morning to give it a try. The man in the over priced hostel have told me that I should ask for the border town Metkovic and I tell the Croatian/German man who picks me up that this is where I am going. After about 15 minutes talk while driving I realize that this is the totally wrong direction and jumps out. Half an hour later I am in a new car going the other direction, this time with an Austrian couple who is late to the airport to pick up a friend.
The couple kicks me out in a road junction and tells me that this is the way to Bosnia and Herzegovina. It takes me about an hour to get a new ride to the border, which on my Google Maps picture looked really far away but actually was only 500 meters from where I got dropped off. My new drivers are 4 young Croatians which are going to the Black Lake in Montenegro to camp for the night before heading back. I think about joining them but don’t want to miss out on Bosnia and Herzegovina so I stop in Trebinje instead.
As soon as I am dropped off in Trebinje by my ride I walk by and enters a pub with locals looking strange at me. The pub girl is not speaking English and I quickly realize I have no local currency. On the wall is a poster of a half naked girl together with two televisions: one playing local folk music and the other showing a drunk old man flirting with a young beautiful girl. I find a nearby gas station that lets me take out money even though they do not have an ATM machine. First the guy wants to give me Euro, but when I finally get my hand on some local currency I go back to the pub to drink a Jelen, a 5% beer which goes directly up to my head (I later realize that some places in Bosnia and Herzegovina also accept Euro).
Next I go to a 4 star restaurant to try some local food. The food is good and about half price from Dubrovnik, but when I try to leave an old man stops me and invites me for a drink. One drink gets several as he does not take a no from me before 2-3 hours later and some grappas and beers has gone down my throat. The old man, which is 80 by his own words, tells me he is the Godfather of Trebinje but is now living in England, only to be back for the summer (6-7 months) in his home town. He knows everyone in the bar and after a while we sits down at a table of his friend, who has a masters in musics and who seems to be a over intelligent alcoholic. We have some interesting conversations (instead of the 30 times repeated stories of the 80 year old man) and then suddenly the old man disappears. Shortly after, his friend also goes away, at least saying goodbye to me and I am free to find a place to sleep.
I have got a list of homestays from the newly founded tourist information in Trebinje so I ask a girl on the street where it is. I don’t know if it is again the friendliness of the people in Bosnia and Herzegovina, or that she see that I am drunk (I feel perfectly fine at this moment) but she calls the lady of the homestay and then walks me 5-10 minutes away to meet her. The lady we meet is an extraordinaire woman in colorful clothes (or was it a towel?) and with a big smile. She lets me choose which of her two bedrooms to use and asks me (without speaking English) if I want to go to the nearby free swimming pool. I say I want to sleep for an hour first, but as soon as I lay down the alcohol is catching up on me and that hour becomes 14 hours.
The next morning I go up at 7 o clock and the lady is watching TV quietly outside my room, asking me if I want a coffee. I am a bit sad that I will not stay more with these amazing people in Trebinje, but the road calls for me an I feel rested and ready for another adventure.