2 days, 6 countries, 1 car, 2 small boys, 850 miles and 1 secret to succesfully enduring the ordeal

We're back. The house is officially a catastrophe and buried under piles of laundry. The dog is furious with being left behind and sulking by the front door. The boys are back in nursery. I'm having my first proper (i.e. sludge at the bottom) coffee in weeks. And, finally, a chance to sneak back into the blogosphere whilst ignoring the colossal number of things that I should be doing to take a chance to wish every one a very Happy New Year.

We had ever such a lovely time. Christmas was filled with great food, good wine (so exciting), excited children and tipsy adults playing games very competitively. Perfect. The boys raced around with their cousins proving the bizarre theory that the more children there are, the less work it is. Secretly wonder whether we should have more children to try and reduce my workload before remembering the exception to the rule, which is that the other children must not be siblings. New Years was dominated by skiing, and having put the boys into French ski school in the mornings, Dave and I had plenty of opportunity to blow the cobwebs away racing each other down the slopes before chasing the boys all afternoon. Somewhat surprisingly, the boys took to skis like a duck to water and Adam was already heard to say to my Mum 'Come On! Catch Up!' as he pegged it down the nursery slope executing a couple of nifty turns on the way. It won't be long before we can't catch them at all.

We drove back last night. 6 countries in 2 days is not to be taken lightly. In no particular order they were

Switzerland: Used to Bosnian prices, Switzerland was quite a shock. We had bought with us a huge stash of Bosnian meat (which is excellent by the way!) which probably halved the cost of the holiday.

France: France. So lovely. So many cheeses to take home with us. Such a smell radiating out from the back of the car. Wonderful. We might have sneaked in a bottle or two of fine red wine and some champagne to offset the pain of going back to drinking Croatian Vranac (red) and Krstic (white) until we go home. Now we just have to decide whether to ration ourselves or to blow the lot in one evening of excess.

Italy: Italian drivers have made me rethink my assertion that Bosnian drivers are dangerous. The Italians take it to a whole new level.

Slovenia: Definite candidate for where we would like to live for when we embark on that dream of buying that old wreck in a spectacular setting to do up. European (in the Euro and everything, with really good motorways too), beautiful, skiing, lots of spectacular national parks, not much coast, but plenty of lakes. Kind of like the best bits of Bosnia without the pain. Yes, we like Slovenia.

Croatia: Sadly not the pretty coast bit, but the bit that goes across the top which is rather flat and not all that interesting.

Bosnia: Hitting Bosnia after spending 2 days driving at 120km/hr (80 mph) was like sticking the handbrake on. The motorways disappear. The top speed is 80km/hr (50 mph) but most of the time is spent at 60km (40mph) trying to avoid the plethora of traffic police out with their speed guns. Seriously, it must have been their New Years Resolution, they were everywhere.


And the secret to success? I've always been against them in a we didn't have them so why should they, it is good for them to get bored, we'll do so much else in the car without them kind of way. But, there is a big difference between a 3 hour drive and a 15 hour one. So, In Car DVD player with screen for each boy, I fall worshipping at your feet. For you kept them happy, not fighting (much), not hitting each other (much) and allowed us adults to do a couple of the 'what do you remember of the last decade quizzes'. It turns out that we don't remember all that much. That's what parenthood and sleep deprivation do for you.

Car Karma

This morning, pre coffee (which may have been a key factor) I loaded the boys into the car to take them to nursery, reversed out of the drive and straight into a passing van.

The van driver (fortunately ever such a nice man) got out and inspected the impact. Not much damage done, a good old fashioned scrape down the side of the van and a right old prang to our bumper. We looked at each other and agreed it wasn't worth getting the police involved. This was a good thing, getting the police involved is a long and painful process that usually entails paying money somewhere. Van man called his boss who appeared shortly. We all looked. Stood around. Stroked our chins and sucked our teeth. The car repair place just up the road appeared. More standing around, more stroking of chins.

Then an offer. For friendship. 50 Euros and, as they say here, to je to (that is that).

Done. Handed over the cash and all off we all went on our merry way, me slightly feeling that I got off lightly.

Dave's take on the whole scenario was an example of how to receive the news that your wife has pranged the car.

He reminded me of the time when an American soldier in SFOR (the previous peace keeping force in Bosnia) driving that huge truck rolled back and hit the front of the Clio (our previous car when we were last living in Bosnia; its smallness indicating it was from the pre-children era). He gave us 100 Euro for the dent in the bonnet. We, not being in the least bit car proud, never got round to fixing it and the dent remained until we sold the car a couple of years later.

'So' said Dave 'the way I see it is that we are still 50 Euros up on the car karma front'.

Dear So and So: Bosnian Version, Part V

It's a Friday. The boys are at nursery. The dog is outside. The house is quiet. All is well with the world. So, happily ensconced in my temporary haven, I feel equipped to start my series of postcards directed at those who've caught my attention over the past couple of weeks.

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Dear Bosnian Drivers,

I'm pretty sure that driving on the pavement is not a part of your Driving Test or condoned by your authorities. Just wondering why you are all such fans of it.

Yours, forever surprised to come across an Audi coming towards us at speed with all four wheels on the pavement,
Fraught Mummy

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Dear Weather,

Got to say, you've been amazing this last week. The car told me that the temperature was 32C yesterday. It has been rather blissful. I'm just wondering how exactly is it possible that we can be having this balmy, blissful weather and yet still be having a forecast of snow for next week?

Yours, in for a bit of a shock if the forecasts are accurate,
FM

PS - got to ask, does this have anything to do with the fact that I packed away all our summer clothes last week and we are now all sweltering in thick winter ones?

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Dear Nursery,

I want to support you in every way you can. You do an amazing job with very little resources. However, when you ask me to contribute 12KM towards buying a TV and DVD player, I'm just not sure I can help. I think nursery should be for play and activities and don't want my boys watching TV there. They do enough of that at home (ah-hem).

So, I am sorry. Is there anything different I can donate the money towards instead?
FM

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Dear boys,

We made a great castle didn't we? I was ever so proud of it. Such a shame that it had to be thrown around within 5 minutes of us finishing it, and now I have to spend most of my mornings fixing it. Lets try to be a bit more careful with it in the future. Please?

Your not very crafty but trying hard mother.

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Dear Bosnian Entrepreneurs,

I'm pretty sure that there are already enough hairdressers, cafes and Driving Schools in Tuzla. Can I suggest if you want to start a new business you come up with one that doesn't have quite so much competition. An indoor playcentre or children's centre would be one idea, particularly with winter rapidly approaching. Or how about a cinema? I'd use them. A lot. Go on, someone must want to do it!

Yours, starting to worry about what I am going to do this winter when the weather gets bad,
FM

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Dear Outside Dog,

Chewing up The Economist was unforgivable. Chewing up The Economist with the Technology Quarterly supplement nearly made Dave spontaneously combust. You are on thin ice. Bear this in mind.

Yours with nothing to read in the bath,
FM

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Dear Bosnian authorities,

You need to sort the stray dog situation out. Not only do we have Outside Dog setting up camp, but now there is a puppy that wants to join her. I really don't want any more dogs, but can't turf them out onto the street again either. Surely you can get a programme of registration and sterilisation sorted, which will truly benefit the town.

Yours, wanting to remain a one dog owner,
FM

PS - sorting out the stray dog situation does not mean sending the hunters in either. At best that is a short term solution.

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Dear Bosnians,

This weather has been amazing hasn't it? We've enjoyed heading out for some impromptu picnics as well. The difference is, we pick our rubbish at the end and put it into the bins that are provided. You have an amazing countryside, which you are ruining by chucking the trash onto it. It isn't difficult to throw it in the bin, if you ever want tourists to start spending their hard earned cash in this country then you need to start doing it now.

Yours, fed up with picking my way over last weeks picnics,
FM

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Dear lady who lives down the road,

Thanks ever so much for your gift of the big yellow fruit that looks like an enormous pear but is hard. I have no idea what it is. How do I go about making it edible?

Yours,
FM

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Dear Random Imam,

I know my boys make a lot of noise and don't listen very often. But they are boys and that is what having a garden is for. Standing on the steps outside the mosque over the road and miming at me to smack them isn't really terribly helpful.

Yours, knowing there's some cultural differences that I ain't that keen to try and bridge,
FM

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Dear Tuzla authorities,

Your new square is really great. You've really done a good job there. We are looking forward to more afternoons spent lolling around the fountain and sitting on the benches under the trees. I have to point out though that to say this square will become one of the most visited in Europe is ambitious. There is a fair amount of competition out there and I'm not sure people will visit Tuzla solely to see the square. It isn't that exciting.

Did I say that I love the benches around the tree trunks?
FM

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Dear Municipality Heating,

I know the weather has been amazing this last week. But as soon as the sun goes down it gets pretty cold. We've been sitting around covered in blankets all evening. They are forecasting snow next week. Please, please, please can we have the heating on, and then we can choose whether to have the heating on or off.

Thanks,
FM

PS - I know I'm being a big old wuss here. Noone else seems to think it is that chilly.

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Dear Boys,

We did have a fab afternoon yesterday, didn't we? I have no idea why it all worked and everyone had such a great time when we didn't really do anything different to normal. But I loved it. You were both great.

Lots and lots of love,
Mummy xxxxx

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Have a go yourself. Head on over to Kat's at 3 Bedroom Bungalow in Crazy Town and sign up with all the other Dear So and So fans. And do try it, it is surprisingly therapeutic.

Or you can head over to Have A Lovely Time, who have very kindly let me write some top tips for visiting countries like Bosnia with kids.

The road outside our house

A sobering start to our day. Just as everyone was struggling out of bed (well, I was struggling out of bed, the boys were bouncing around full of the joys of a brand new day with far too much energy for my ever so slightly feeling the effects of a glass of wine too many the previous evening head) we heard shouts coming from the road outside. I looked out of the window and realised that a woman had been hit by a car. People were running to help, the driver of the car was out of his car looking shocked and slightly hysterical. An ambulance arrived in minutes, closely followed by the police and she was whisked off to the hospital, to be treated for a broken shoulder and leg. The police remained for several hours carefully photographing all aspects of the accident, circling relevant marks with chalk, placing numbered placards everywhere and interviewing witnesses.

As it turns out, she was walking to work and had just stepped off the pavement, into the path of the car. The car had not been travelling fast, there was no screeching to a halt, no skid marks on the road. She was lucky, we might live in a residential area, but the road by our house is surprisingly smooth and cars drive up it at an inappropriate speed. This being a residential area there are always children playing on the road somewhere. It is one of the things that I love about living here. The kids are outside, making up games with chalk on the road, drawing out elaborate courts for games to play with bottle tops. The girls are often to be seen with long pieces of elastic stretched between themselves playing elaborate games that the boys look at with confusion, as if the girls are practicing an advanced form of black magic. The boys go up and down on their bikes practicing wheelies and trying to look cool. It is exactly how children ought to be spending their time. It is exactly how I would want my kids to be spending their time when they are a few years older.

But this accident has really shaken me up. I grew up in London, so am no stranger to cars travelling too fast on the roads. But at least in London the pavements are wide enough to walk on. Here, the pavement which this woman stepped off is narrow, gravelled and difficult to walk along. Whenever I try to walk along it, I normally end up stepping off it and walking on the road. And I usually have 2 small children, a couple of scooters, some shopping and a dog to try and keep under control whilst I do so. The other day, I took my eye off Luke for all of 1 second and he ran across the road for no reason whatsoever. This is the first time he had ever done something like that. Usually he is pretty road aware, but for some reason this time, he simply took off. There was a car coming as well, fortunately travelling slowly and paying attention, so was able to give the rampaging 2 year old plenty of room.

I keep thinking of this woman, who was just walking to work one Thursday morning and who ended up in hospital with some fairly serious and very painful injuries. And all I can think is There, but for the grace of God, go I. And I draw my boys in towards me, kiss their heads and hold them tight.

Dear So and So Bosnian Version: Part iii

My biweekly opportunity to rant and get pithy with things that have annoyed/delighted me over the past couple of days. I encourage everyone to have a go at writing a Dear So and So post, it is surprisingly therapeutic.

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Dear Bosnian Taxi Drivers,

Just steady there with the stopping in the middle of the road to pick up and let down passengers. Usual etiquette suggests that you should wait until it is safe, indicate and then pull over. Or at least let the drivers behind you know that you are about to come to an abrupt halt.

Yours, with depleting brake pads and increasing Bosnian swear word vocabulary,
Fraught Mummy

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Dear Bosnian billboard advertisers,

I have a question. You know your advert, the one where there is a picture of a woman wearing nothing but a thong and with her hands in some very fetching yellow marigold rubber gloves placed delicately on her very perfect backside? You know the one? In the background there are a few men in suits, hard helmets, chewing on pens and looking thoughtful? Can you explain to me how this advert in any way promotes safety in the workplace?

Yours, in curiosity,
FM x

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Dear ice cream sellers on the Korzo,

You remember how last year there was a bit of a cold snap at the beginning of September? But then the month continued to be warm and sunny and perfect ice cream weather? Do you remember how you also stopped making ice cream at the very first sign of cold and then for the rest of the month we wanted ice-cream so badly but noone was selling it. The forecast for next week is a bit chilly, but then it looks as if it will heat up again. Please please please don't stop making ice cream until it really is too cold for it.

Yours, in appreciation of your amazing ice creams and wondering how we will get through the winter without it,
FM

PS - if you ever wanted to try making that blood orange ice-cream again, I'll buy a box of it!

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Dear Nursery,

Thanks for the offer of giving English lessons to the boys. I think they'll be ok without them.

Yours,
FM

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Dear Bosnian bathroom designers,

I know that Bosnians aren't that short (in fact there a lot of very tall Bosnians). So why are all your baths so tiny?

Yours, in desperation for a long hot soak without my knees around my ears,
FM

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Dear Bosnian Grannys,

Telling my children off in the supermarket is not acceptable, particularly when they were actually being pretty well behaved. I know you mean well, telling them to listen to their mother and to hold my hand is exactly what I have been telling them for, well, years. But if you shout at them in Bosnian it doesn't really help much.

Yours, only just holding my tongue in check,
FM

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Dear Boys,

Do you have a volume control? Could you use it? Particularly in the supermarket or when there are people around who are likely to tell me off.

Your only slightly deaf mother x

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Dear Bosnian Traffic Light Designers,

When I get a specific green light to turn right, I'm not expecting to come across a stream of pedestrians crossing the road who also have a green light. It always takes me, and quite a few other drivers, by surprise. Do you not think it might be better to let one group of road users have priority at a time?

Yours, in bewilderment,
FM

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Dear neighbours,

You've been ever so generous with the produce of your fruits trees. We've gorged on your cherries, raspberries, apples, peaches and plums. I can see the pear trees are looking pretty good and I'm feeling hopeful.

Yours in anticipation,
FM

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Dear Mum and Mum-in-law,

We can't wait to see you when you come out. A week on the Croatian coast near Dubrovnik is a very exciting prospect. The boys are so excited to spend some time with their Grannies. Please come bearing tea bags. We're nearly out and whilst everyone says that the 'crni caj' is the same thing, it just isn't and I can't function without my tea.

Only a few weeks to go now,
FM xx

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Dear Bosnian Football Team,

You're playing Armenia tomorrow. You have such a great opportunity to qualify for the World Cup in 2010. Go get 'em! Hajmo Bosno Bosno Bosno!

Yours, waving my blue and yellow flag enthusiastically,
FM

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Haven't had enough Dear So and So? There are a few others posting them too: Head on over to

Home Mum of 2 (or 3 if you count their Dad)

Muddling Along Mummy

London City Mum

Very Bored Housewife

Have a go yourself. And if you do, make sure to go to Kat's at 3 Bedroom Bungalow and sign up so that other fans of the genre can come and have a read too.

Dear So and So, Bosnian Version: Part II

Ever since I wrote Dear So and So, Bosnian Version Part I, I've been suffering from an unusual (and quite debilitating) affliction. Now, in my head, wherever I go, I find myself composing these postcards. In an effort to bring it all under control I started making a list of all the postcards I wished to write. It is completely out of control. It is also, therefore, time for another Dear So and So post. So here we go, a few things that I wish others to know:
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Dear neighbours,

We don't have a plum tree in our garden. You do and it hangs over ours. We have a glut of plums from your tree that we don't know what to do with. As you have 4 trees, all about to fall over with the weight of the fruit you must have some good ideas about what we can do with all the plums currently halved and stoned and sitting in our fridge.

Yours, in appreciation of your fruit orchard which has served us well over the summer,
Fraught Mummy

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Dear man in charge of the volume of the call to prayer of the mosque opposite,

Any chance you could turn it down? Just for the early one, the one as the sun comes up? Please? We'd really appreciate it.

Yours, in tiredness and slightly grumpy at just before 5am,
FM

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Dear Bosnian Drivers (and one on the Tuzla Sarajevo road the other weekend in particular),

Overtaking is a manoeuvre to be carried out when you are certain that you can complete the manoeuvre without causing an accident. In practice this means that you should only overtake when there is a stretch of road ahead of you that allows you to see what is coming for quite some distance. So, overtaking, going up a hill, heading towards a blind corner, in the dark with only one headlight working is not really best practice.

Yours, forever wondering how there are any Bosnian drivers left,
FM

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Dear Bosnian Pedestrians,

You are a nation of walkers. You put us British to shame. You walk everywhere and for long distances. This is wonderful. Can I make an observation however? If you walk along main roads in the pathway of the cars, in the dark, wearing black, it is very likely that the drivers won't be able to see you. Just saying.

Wishing you a long and healthy life,
FM

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Dear Boys,

Listen to your mother. Listen. It's not so hard. I only do it to stop you from hurting yourselves or other people. It would make everyone's lives a whole lot easier if you did what I ask within the first 5 times of asking, because if I have to ask any more than that I'm liable to turn bright red and blow a gasket.

Your loving but exasperated mother xx

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Dear Butcher down the road,

You are my favourite butcher in the world. Not only do you sell the most amazing meat, but you didn't mind that I left my wallet behind in a blonde mad mummy moment, and you let me pay you the next time we were in the shop.

Deep thanks from the bottom of my heart,
FM

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Dear Bosnians looking for a parking space,

Space on the pavement is not the same thing as a parking space.

Yours, a bit fed up with weaving past your cars,
FM

PS - drivers in Tuzla, every other city in the world requires you to pay for parking. You used to pay for parking in the centre of town before the war. Stop whinging about the new parking restrictions.

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Dear Imam from the mosque over the road,

Thank you very much for the gift of some Bosnian delights and perfume that you handed over the gate the other day. I'm not quite sure why you are giving me presents and do find it a bit random. But thank you anyway.

FM

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Dear Bosnian Authorities,

Please, please can you get a programme in place to sort out the stray dog situation. The number of lost puppies on the streets at the moment is breaking my heart.

Yours, trying not to adopt another dog,
FM

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Dear Jessie,

You've seen the life other dogs have. Yours is not so tough. But if you try and get into one more picnic I might be tempted to let you live their life for a bit.

Yours, fed up with apologizing for our pizza eating dog,
FM xx

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Dear neighbours, friends and pretty much anyone we have ever visited,

Thank you for all your amazingly yummy fruit, veg, homemade jams, juices and pies that you give us every time we have ever visited. At the moment I have to say that your grapes are the best thing I have ever tasted, but the peppers are pretty good too.

Yours, stuffing my face,
FM

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Dear International Community in Tuzla,

Thank you for always inviting us to your dinners on Thursday evenings. I'm sorry we have been so rubbish in actually attending. Every week we plan to and every week we sort of don't quite manage. We will keep trying, please don't stop inviting us.

Yours,
FM

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Dear Bosnian Women,

You rock. You are feisty, scarily intelligent and can more than hold your ground. You are professional, well educated and sometimes a bit scary as you are not frightened of expressing your opinion with a level of passion that the British in me is just not used to. There's just one thing I really don't get. What is the obsession with cutsie cutsie little girl like cartoon characters?

Just wondering,
FM

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Dear Dave,

You're great. Hang on - that's not my handwriting. Have you been adding things to my list??

You are great though, but it is treason to mess with one of my lists. Treason! Do you hear me?

Lots of Love,
FM xx

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Enough for today. There'll be more as this is such a fun post to write, try it yourself and see. You too will soon find yourself composing postcards in your head all day. If you write a post, then make sure to head over to Kat's at 3 Bedroom Bungalow and add your name to the list, so other fans of the genre can come and have a read.

Again, other Bosnians, anything you care to add to the list? I'm going to do these posts every other Friday, so let me know if there's anything that you'd like to add.

Games to play on Bosnian road trips

For various reasons we do quite a lot of driving around Bosnia. So, although we live in Tuzla, which is in the Federation part of Bosnia (the Bosnian Muslim and Croat bit), we do spend quite a lot of time driving around the Serb part of Bosnia, the Republika Srpska (almost always known as the RS).

This doesn't usually entail any problems. It is still a part of the same country. The cars all have the same licence plates, the money is the same, the language is the same (bar the odd semantic difference about whether you are speaking Bosnian or Serbian, but for us to be able to notice the differences between the languages would need us to speak it a whole lot better than we do). The police forces are different but by in large they can't face dealing with the English driver so both forces tend to leave us alone.

By far the biggest difference for us, is the script in which the road signs are written. The Federation operates in the Latin script. The letters all look like what we're used to. We might not have a clue what the signs mean, but at least we can have a decent stab at what the word actually is. In the RS the signposts are in Cyrillic. Not only do we not know what they are saying but we can't even read them. I get sudden bursts of sympathy for my boys starting out on learning to read. Now I know how they feel, a maze of symbols which mean absolutely nothing to me.

We are not totally clueless though. We know for example that a sign that says 'CapajeBo' equates to Sarajevo. A building with 'pectopar' written on it is a restaurant. This gives us a certain number of letters from which we can start to construct the word.

So, as we drive along we tend to have conversations that go something like this:

Driver: Where are we?

Map Reader: I don't know

D: There's a signpost - what does it say

MR: I don't know.

D: Get the map out.

MR: The map is in Latin, the signpost is in Cyrillic, I still don't know where we are.

D (stopping the car in front of the sign, often with an audible sigh and a form of well if you could mapread properly in the first place you would know where we are anyway): Ok, there are 8 letters.

MR: Alright, do we know any of them?

D: Blank, S, Blank, Blank, R, A, Blank, Blank, Blank.

MR (hunting frantically on the map for any name that might fit the bill) er, not sure, can't quite see anything that fits, is there a Z anywhere?(we know what Z looks like too, it is a back to front 3)

D: No Z

MR: How about a C?

D: I don't know what a C looks like.

MR: Well do you think the last 3 letters could be VIC?

D: Dunno. Probably.

MR: Oo, oo, I think I can see where we are. Oh no, sorry, that town only has 6 letters. Are you sure that it is 8 letters? Is there a D?

D (by this point the driver is usually getting quite irate and there have been a couple of cars tooting us as they pass us): Yes it is still 8 letters. No, no Ds. I don't know if there's a D. Maybe there is a D. Anyway you've had enough guesses, that's hangman, you lose, it's your turn to drive.

And off we go, only for the whole process to be repeated at the next signpost or town, whichever appears first.


We've been places and we still don't have a clue where. We spent an entire afternoon once driving around the area to the East of Sarajevo and were in quite a big town and to this day we don't know where we actually were. We have now decided to take action and are developing our own crib sheet, one with all the letters on, to help us. But, I have a sneaking suspicion that we'll still be playing our own Bosnian version of hangman most times we go out for a drive.

Losing our parking entertainment

It can safely be said that I have truly embraced one aspect of the Bosnian culture. I love the way people park here. The rules seem to be that you can park wherever you can. Is that a piece of pavement the size of my car? Perfect. Is that a piece of pavement not quite the size of my car ? Never mind, if we put the front end of the car in that will do. I have never quite managed to reach the giddy heights of one Bosnian I saw, who parked in the middle of the one way system causing gridlock, but I was secretly impressed at the chutzpah and ability to ignore wildly honking horns.

I can't park for toffee, so to see some of the attempts of other Bosnians makes me feel right at home. To be fair, they probably half squeezed the car into a very small space, but when the neighbouring car departs, it leaves the original car looking very, um, haphazard. Drunken almost.

But all this fun has been ruined. We went into town yesterday for a saunter down the Korzo, bit of an ice-cream and a general smooch around and discovered that the authorities have discovered parking meters. I nearly cried. They've also put up big signs encouraging people to park between the lines and banned people parking on the verges. It's not very expensive (but I did grow up in London so have a distorted view about how much money parking is likely to cost) but it has spoilt all my fun.

It goes without saying it will make the city centre an easier place to negotiate on foot and is a very good thing really. Whether the Bosnians pay any attention to it remains to be seen. I'm not sure they are going to take to it, I've already had to demonstrate the automated machine to 3 Bosnians scratching their heads.

driving me mad?

In the last month I have gone from driving a righthand drive car on the right (a British car in Bosnia) to a righthand automatic on the left (in England) to a lefthand drive car on the right in the States, back to the righthand on the left in England, to a lefthand drive car on the right (a hire car in Bosnia) and finally back to our trusty old manual righthand drive Ford Mondeo Estate on the right.

Confused? If I see a roundabout I may well drive over the middle of it.

Help a tourist day in Tuzla

Our British car is still looking very British with GB stickers and licence plates all over it (not to mention the right hand drive aspect of the car). Whilst foreign cars are very common in Tuzla (Austrian, Dutch, French and Italian being the most popular) the British cars are few and far between. I have seen one other, a bright blue Smart car, we waved at each other in a moment of solidarity.

Anyhow, driving a British car makes us a bit conspicuous. People tend to notice us, especially the police. Driving to nursery today we came to their attention. I was indicating to turn left and waiting for a gap in the traffic. There weren't any so we waited for quite a while. Now, I grew up and learnt how to drive in London, busy roads are not a problem; if there is a gap in traffic I will take it. Trust me, there weren't any gaps in the traffic which would enable me to safely make the turn but I'm happy to wait.

The local traffic policeman couldn't take the incompetent cautious English driver any longer. He put down his coffee, strode across the road, stopped the oncoming traffic and waved us across, giving us a little wave as he did so. The boys were impressed and are now on the lookout for more policemen to wave to. Job done, he went back across the road to finish his coffee.

careful driving

The campaign for careful driving is not going so well (see 15th Dec post). Driving back this afternoon we went past a bit of a smash complete with several police cars and blue flashing lights, situated right underneath the "Careful How You Drive" billboard.

Careful how you drive

A Drive Carefully campaign has hit Tuzla, with some force. All across the city there are now wrecked cars placed beside billboards explaining what happened to them. One jumped a red light. Another (upside down and really quite mashed) was driven by a drunk driver. The cars certainly grab your attention and I'm finding it to be quite an effective campaign.

As I have driven past about 5 accidents in the last week, I hope that the Bosnians pay some attention to these adverts and moderate their overtaking manoeuvres accordingly.

Preparing for Winter.. part II

An update to an earlier post (Preparing for winter Part I): Tomorrow is the day we MUST go and buy snow chains. For, from tomorrow, not only do we need winter tyres on the car, we must also have snow chains in the boot. This is a legal requirement; should the police stop us then we will need to show that we have them. With the weather still very warm for the time of year it still seems slightly surreal.

The snow chains can join the rest of the stuff that we are legally required to carry in the car when we are driving in Bosnia: a warning triangle, first aid kit, standard spare tyre and tools to change it with, flash light with batteries, tow rope, flourescent jacket and, for me, a spare pair of glasses. Barely enough room left for the dog.

English cars, Bosnian over-taking manoeuvres

Bosnian roads merit many blog entries (let alone the driving that accompanies them). The main routes weave through the mountain ranges, are seldom more than single lane and our poor car hasn't been above 50mph since we got here. Tuzla to Sarajevo is 120km and can take 2 hours. Or, if you get stuck behind a log moving lorry, of which there many more than you might reasonably expect to come across, it can take twice as long. Particularly in a British car. Having the steering wheel on the right makes overtaking difficult and puts a particular onus upon any front seat passengers. Bosnian friends are still getting used to the concept that any lifts with us involve an important driving role. As the car edges out to see whether it is possible to overtake the beer lorry moving at 15mph, the passenger must make the decision to go or not leading to a few over-taking moments that any Bosnian driver would be proud of. The language accompanying the manoeuvre is suitably colourful and I do long, every now and then, for a good bit of peaceful motorway driving.