Day 3 – Friday, August 8, 2025
It was a beautiful Friday morning. From the mountainside, there was a sea of fog in the valley below me, where the river flows, while the hillside behind me was bathing in bright sunshine. I was tuned to my favourite Hungarian online radio, Klubradio, where listeners are encouraged to text where they were that morning. I sent a message greeting the audience of the station from my wild campground in western Serbia – soon after me sending the message, they actually broadcast it. My parents usually listen to the same station and as soon as the announcement was made, they called me, laughing.
Fog above the Drina I had ridden from
Good morning, sunshine!
With that pleasant start to the day, I began the ride, with a few more kilometers uphill to a junction at the summit, followed by a nice descent into a small village called Kremna. I found a grocery store, which was surprisingly busy, just as the bakery and the pub next to it – where did all these people come from? From an earlier trip, back in 2016, I had some Serbian Dinars – and I felt like a little king. How wrong I was! It was barely enough to buy groceries – quite high were the prices. It was about €8 for what I had purchased - and that was not a lot. Riding a bit further, I found a nice park in front of a health clinic, where I was allowed to wash myself and the fruits I had purchased. I enjoyed breakfast under a pine tree; after all, even after the descent, I was at an altitude of 850 meters.
This area was the entry into the Tara National Park – and I enjoyed the views, but I decided not to go hiking, but to ride on – though the temptation was there. Now I was headed back to Bosnia, the border of which was about 30 kilometers away. On the way, I found an amazing fountain, with a strong stream of water coming from the side of the mountain – and I was able to clean up a bit. In Hungarian, we call it a “cat wash.”
It was a beautiful ride on both sides of the border; one could hardly see the outline of the road, the green almost covering it. Honestly, I do not recall the border, but I believe I did not have to wait long. Back in Bosnia, I found an adventurous hanging bridge over a river, which I crossed, hoping the entire structure would not crash into the river.
Ah, nature, so beautiful!
Hanging bridge, which I crossed without incident
There were quite a few hills ahead, and I was quite tired by the time I rolled into the town of Visegrad. I recall a grocery store where I bought a 1.5-liter soft drink, which I pretty much consumed within a minute or two. I did not know much about this town, but it looked rather touristy, so I visited a tourist information place not only to get info but also to cool down in the pleasantly air-conditioned room. Yes, Visegrad is indeed a well-known destination, boasting a UNESCO World Heritage bridge from the Ottoman era, called Mehmed Paša Sokolović Bridge, completed in 1577, so close to 450 years old. The Nobel-prize-winning writer Ivo Andrić wrote a novel set in this town, called The Bridge on the Drina.
It was also without incident that I crossed this bridge
A pleasant town
Although I am a fan of Emir Kusturica, I failed to visit Andrićgrad, an artificial town built by him within Visegrad about a decade ago to serve as a backdrop for a film about the famous author. Not that I was not interested, but it was really hot and as soon as I crossed the bridge – and did not find a suitable place to take a swim, which was not allowed near it – I suddenly decided to leave town and ride on.
And what a beautiful ride it was! It was a stunning stretch of natural beauty and dramatic geography, where the river carves through some of the deepest canyons in the Balkans. This section is flanked by the Zvijezda and Tara mountains, with peaks soaring over 1,000 meters above sea level. For miles and miles, there were no towns, just a relatively newly-built road, with countless tunnels heading through the side of the mountain.
No overtaking allowed...
...as River Drina decided to take a left turn
As swimming was not allowed near the bridge, I was looking for a suitable place; it was a really hot day. After about a dozen kilometers, I found a bridge, with one fork of the road veering south. I planned to head in that direction, but I firmly wanted to take a dip. I was now really yearning for a swim. A car driver told me a beach was just 2 km away; well, it was double that distance (back and forth is already 8 kilometers...). I ended up riding to a hotel called Panorama Resort. I had to drop steeply from the main road to the river. I first came across the caretaker of the resort, who spoke perfect “American” – turns out he had lived in the US. He told me yes, I can go swim, but please, on the side, as there were guests arriving for a big celebration that afternoon. I found a houseboat with three tough guys playing cards; they signaled it was OK for me to swim there, using their houseboat as the launch site. I was really glad to cool down in the river; I swam all the way to the other side and back – which was actually quite wide there.
After the strenuous climb back to the main road and the 4 km back to the bridge I had started from (a relatively heavy price to pay for the swim), I crossed the bridge and now came an even bigger challenge. It was a very strong climb, one of the toughest on this trip to date, also leading through multiple tunnels – well, at least they cooled me down a bit while riding through them. Earlier, I had asked multiple people how best to proceed – and all of them told me to avoid this road at all costs and continue along River Drina. However, this route was the shortest option in terms of distance, and looking backward now, I am really glad I chose that option.
I was now following River Lim, the gorge of which is a truly breathtaking natural corridor that slices through the rugged terrain offering amazing scenery and a sense of raw wilderness. If the gorge of River Drina was beautiful – which it certainly was – this was like a magnitude more impressive. I was truly amazed, impressed, and thankful for being there.
The gorge - if you look carefully, you can see a solitary small boat cruising on the river (by the way, this is one of my favorite pics of this trip)
Later, the dramatic scenes gave way to a pleasant ride next to River Lim, little traffic, and I made quite good distance.
Less dramatic, but still quite nice
Later in the day, I reached the outskirts of a smaller town called Rudo, but decided to push on. I crossed a bridge and was greeted by a sign welcoming me to Serbia. However, there was no passport control. Eh? Then it was a couple of kilometers of riding and from the road signs, I could tell I was back in Bosnia. It was then I realized that yes, actually, the village I had ridden through, called Međurečje, is a Serbian enclave within Bosnia, under the administration of the Serbian government. Interesting.
Anyhow, I soon stumbled upon the official – and very tiny – border crossing into Serbia. The officers signaled a major climb would be waiting for me on the other side. As it was getting dark, I decided I would find a place to sleep on the Bosnian side and leave the crossing for the following day. I rode on for a mile or so and saw a long stretch of land behind a house, leading all the way to the now-tiny River Lim. There was someone leaving from this house by car and asked if I might pitch my tent. He fully understood my request and replied, “but of course!". I could do it anywhere, but best would be if I made it to the river, he said. He even showed me the best way to descend from the road; it was a bit of a steep drop.
I shoved my bike near the river; alas, the vegetation right next to it was too thick and I was too tired to find a better spot, so I pitched my tent a dozen meters of so from the river. As I was getting ready to sleep, three fishermen came my way. One spoke pretty good English and told me there would be a spot with river access a few hundred meters away and that I could join them, but as I had already pitched my tent, I did not fancy putting all my stuff together.
I soon dozed off. The one thing that did wake me up was some sort of a squirrel? vole? rat? that was not amused by my tent being in its way. Squeaking, it jumped to the top of my tent, squeaked even louder – when I let out an unfriendly shout, it jumped further up onto a tree and then disappeared into the darkness. Apart from this little incident, I had a good night.
I covered some 103 kilometers in distance and had an elevation gain of 1,373 meters.