Today I hit a major milestone on this trip: I crossed into baklava territory! But before dessert, there were some big hills to climb, a rain storm to endure and some of the most beautiful and remote scenery I have been through this far in my trip. To me, Bosnia has a faraway and almost enchanted feel to it, a seemingly forgotten little country hidden behind a steep mountain range. 

  
 
 There is a somber quietness here and a very slow pace of life, even within the city of Bihać, and one gets the sense many of the displaced never returned after the war. But it is gorgeous and relatively untouched by tourism. I am so glad to have come this way. 

I fell asleep last night to the beautifully ethereal sound of the call to prayer coming from the local mosque and another nighttime rain storm. This morning, setting out on my bike, it was a bit chilly and evident I would get rained on and only a matter of when. The cool air actually felt wonderful. Climbing out of Bihać into the mountains, I rode along a main highway that had as little traffic as some of the tertiary country roads I have recently been on in other countries. After an hour or two, I entered Una National Park, a gorgeous area of protected land along the Una River. 

 
 This is to Bosnia what Plitvička National Park is to Croatia. Remember yesterday’s photo of the crowds at Plitvička? This is one of the three main entries to Una. 

What a difference! The park ranger and his big friendly mountain dog came out to greet me. As expected, it then poured rain and I continued riding towards Kulen Vakuf, past picturesque herds of sheep, small soccer fields with big dreams, and beautiful little mosques. 

 
 I arrived at my hostel, run by a friendly mother, daughter and aunt team, happy to have a shorter mileage day today and looking forward to a warm shower and lunch. The meal was delicious and I was joined by this talkative and friendly guy, Zlatko, a cyclist, chain smoker, and half Slovenian half Bosnian, a mix he modestly described as “perfect!” 

Then dessert arrived, which is where the baklava comes in. Homemade by the grandmother, crisp, deeply sweet and rich with walnuts, it was a delicious way to end the day’s ride and a sign of sweet experiences to come.