On the way to Drvar, our fourth stop, we stopped for coffee here, at an honest-to-goodness Bosnian brothel. I think army folks call it “The Purple Pickel” — and if they don’t then they should! Sadly for us, the freaks only come out at night.
As our aging bus made its way through the mountains, it had to negotiate through several sharp 180-degree turns, called switchbacks. It can be a little scary on a narrow road, especially if two large vehicles meet face to face!
Fortunately the driving was in the very capable hands of our dear friend Serge. Unfortunately for us, the drive to Drvar was his last with us.
Click on the link above to see a panoramic view of the town of Drvar. The military base there is almost hidden in the hills on the other side of the valley, about halfway left from centre.
The Canadian army calls this converted flour mill “Castle Greyskull”. Wouldn’t you?
It doesn’t look like much, but this VIP tent had single beds in curtained-off private rooms, with an electric fan in each… Heaven!