Day 1 – Wednesday, August 6, 2025
I was up around 7 am and saw what a wonderful spot this house was built on. The quiet river lay right in front of the large lawn – everything was calm and peaceful. It took me some time to get my act together, and it was only around 8 am that I started riding.
So calm and relaxing...
After a while, I got back to “downtown” Orašje and spotted a modern shopping mall. Until then, I had been using the Croatian network, being right on the border, but I was aobut to leave the coverage of the Schengen zone. So the first order of the day was finding a suitable data plan. In the mall, there was a cell-phone shop and, quite unceremoniously, I acquired a 5 GB SIM card for just €5. Now I was ready to roll out of Orašje.
I did mention that my trip was a beautiful one – but the first couple of miles were anything but exciting. There wasn’t much traffic, and the road was broad enough, but it was not the kind of road a biker would wish for. Soon, I was greeted by a road sign welcoming me to Republika Srpska, a Serbian-controlled region of Bosnia (I had photographed such signs on earlier trips). Next to the sign, on the roadside, was a small shop selling – roll drums – CDs, yes, compact discs! I would see more of these shops later on. Another favorite and successful business seemed to be car-wash places; there were quite a few of these, not only in this area but all across the Balkans.
Welcome to Republika Srpska – you can purchase a compact disc!
At the first major intersection, I decided to leave the main road I had been riding on and turn southeast towards a town called Brčko. This road wasn’t as wide and at the beginning had quite a lot of traffic – eventually (and luckily) it got less busy. It felt like an eternity before I finally reached the town. I rode to a park dedicated to Tito’s partizan heroes and then made it down to the river embankment. This could have been in any developed country. Not only did cars stop at pedestrian crossings (and even for bikers like me!), but the riverbank was lavishly built up with porch swings and picnic tables. There were restaurants already filling with guests (on a Wednesday morning!). I occupied one of the swings and had a pleasant breakfast, feasting on the left-over sandwiches my mum had made the day before. Many boats were moored here, serving as small dachas. The river itself was quite wide, and in the distance, there was a bridge crossing over to Croatia.
Bike parking next to River Sava
I left and rode to the center of town, where I got quite a surprise. The main street was lined with cafés, literally one after another, with tables set up in the middle of the pedestrian street. While not full, it was relatively busy – and this would become a general impression for the rest of my trip: where there is a café, people flock to it and stay for a while.
Well, I had only covered some 30 kilometers so far and had already had a breakfast brake – so no coffee for me, time to move on.
Café upon café in Brčko
With some help from a passerby and Google Maps, I found a hilly road heading south. It was by no means busy, and I made good distance on it. Later, the road turned into a bit of a climb – nothing major. The countryside was pleasant, with some really pretty (and sizable), newly built houses lining the way. Also notable were the memorials referring to men lost to the Balkan War of the 1990s; there were quite a few of these.
After about 50 kilometers, I neared the city of Tuzla. I pondered whether to visit, as it meant a detour of four kilometers in one direction (i.e. eight total). Since I had never been there, I went for it. The road became crowded, even jammed before the city, so I had to zig-zag between the cars. My first impression of Tuzla was not a positive one. Huge, run-down Soviet-style apartment blocks dominated the view – ome of the least pretty urban sight of my trip. I did see a sign pointing to the Pannonian Lakes in town. I had no idea what they were, but it sounded interesting – and I thought a dip might not hurt.
And indeed, after the wonderful views of the River Sava in Brčko, this turned into another highlight. Tuzla is the only city in Europe with a salt lake in its center. It is artificial one and served as a proper beach, with multiple entry points; tickets cost about €3.50 (Bosnia uses the convertible mark, abbreviated as BAM internationally andd KM in Bosnia itself; one euro is roughly two KM). Actually, there are three lakes (or large pools) next to each other – and my impression was very positive. This establishment could have been anywhere in Western Europe: it was clean, with plenty of places to relax, there were showers, changing booths and pool attendants speaking perfect English. I crossed the first, the second, and then the third lake before swimming back, spending about 40 minutes in the water. It was a bit cloudy, so not many people were in the water itself. The swim was refreshing, and the shower afterward felt great.
Salt lake at Tuzla
While swimming, I spotted a busy restaurant just outside the perimeter of the beach, with smoke dancing gleefully from its rooftop, hinting at something delicious. That’s exactly where I headed. Luck was on my side: at Restaurant Limenka, a table freed up just as I arrived. After 80 kilometers of riding and a nice long swim, I was now really hungry. The menu had the classic Balkan grill selection, and I ordered a large 10-piece ćevapi in pita bread, with extra onions. It was delicious – though I regretted ordering sour cream, since they didn’t have spicy ajvar. Still, I polished off every last bite. By then, it was already past 5 pm.
Yummy ćevapi
After this late lunch/early dinner, Tuzla “rehabilitated” itself in my eyes: In the center, I found some pretty historic buildings. I met a French family and we chatted (in French) for a while. The lady told her three kids, “You see, this monsieur never gets tired.” Well, how wrong she was! By that time, I was indeed feeling tired.
Nice buildings
I filled my tummy and my water bottles
Despite how tired I felt, I covered another 50 kilometers that afternoon and evening and decided to push all the way to a town called Zvornik, on the banks River Drina . As daylight faded and I had less than 10 kilometers to go, Google Maps indicated a shortcut – a dirt road, with some climbing. I didn’t want to risk it, so I followed the regular road. It got pitch dark when I finally arrived. As usual in Bosnia, the town was buzzing like a beehive, with crowds walking about. Multiple concerts were going on: apparently a folk music festival had just ended, while a rock concert was in full swing at the beautiful riverbank. This river was yet another border river, with Serbia on the opposite side.
After some searching, I found accommodation at Hotel Central, glad to see they had a room for €35. The room was small but tidy, and breakfast was included. I dropped my stuff and went for a stroll through the city. At the concert venue, young people and teens were dancing, singing along with the band, cheering, even riding attractions at the amusement park behind the stage. At one point, the frontman lit a torch on stage – answered by torches being lit among the crowd. It was as bright as day.
Fire!
Close to midnight, I called it a day (or night?). I had been to two border rivers, swum in a salt lake, eaten great ćevapi – what more could I ask for? Looking forward to the days and weeks ahead, I slept well in my small room. Well, an alarm of sorts in the staircase could be heard ringing every two minutes ro so, but the tired I was, I completely ignored it.
That day, I had ridden 133 kilometers with an elevation gain of 977 meters, so Strava tells me.