After a night of thunderstorms, we are leaving our temporary home at Vojvodina. "Majka", in Sebian mother, Stojcevska is saying good-bye to us with tears in her eyes. As a last joke when leaving the Jabuka village, we left a marketing logo of Apple on the village name road sign, carrying a second one with us to Mac Edonia. It is pouring rain, all the way to the border between Serbia and Bosnia. The clouds disappeared only there, perhaps to allow us a better contact with the radio reporter Iva, who does weekly reports about our journey for Czech radio Leonardo. Our green promotion flyers help us regularly to overcome problems with road police and border patrols. Sometimes they maybe think that we are a strange religious sect. After we explain the project, we leave the impression that we are just obsessed artists, who set out on a pilgrimage to follow the forgotten winding and dusty paths of disapearing alphabets. Now heading to Mostar (meaning Bridge), which is a metaphor for us for bridging the glagolic, cyrilic, latin and arabic scripts. We stay overnight in the city with the restored monument of regained mutuality. Not sleeping under the bridge, but rather in the house of our friends. My intuition, which I do trust, suggests that this will be an inspirative meeting.
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