In my last post I gave you all the gory details about climbing Sydney Harbour Bridge with a broken toe. I also made a passing reference to my love of structures that span. Add these two prattlings to a conversation that I had recently with a friend and it got me thinking… Bridges.
My nerves are in shitting shreds. What if I’ve not done my research properly and I’m not allowed in without a visa? What if they decide they don’t like the look of my fucking fugly face? What if I get kicked off the bus and left at the border all alone without my bag andContinue reading “Making the most of Mostar”