Kristen

I half expected Zuza to be gone this morning, but there he was, so happy that we’d finally woken up. A huge grin on his face, the back half of his body being wagged by his tail. Crazy giant German Shepherd. It’s one thing to chase after some hikers and follow them to the end of the street perhaps, but it’s quite another to follow them for 15 km on a hot and exposed track, then happily and loyally sleep the night with them under the veranda of a mountain hut, when all they have to offer you is some leftover re-hydrated mashed potato and an old yoghurt container filled with water. He’s a gorgeous thing, though. I think Callum is getting attached.

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Callum

Zuza wanders over hopefully from his sad dinner of cold, leftover, re-hydrated mashed potato. He’s made short work of it, and, judging by the way he’s resting his chin on my knee, he’d like some more.

Sorry mate, that’s all we’ve got.

He gets the message, and slumps morosely over to his corner. This is no life for a dog. I wonder if he’ll still be here tomorrow?

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Before I can talk about Zuza, I have to tell you about this morning…

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Kristen

Krivi Put sklonište was an interesting place to wake up. It had been a sticky night. I’d spent the hours with my head resting on the pillow just so, in order to block both the light of the moon and a single street lamp with the window panes. But I admit that I was glad for some light in this cold, old building, with onions still pickling on the benches and piles of old shoes, belts and jumpers, smothered in dust. We shut both doors before sleeping in the far corner of our safe room.

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Callum

8:13 am

Just stocked up on water for the day. There’s a well here, but it says ‘Not Drinking Water!’ in big scary red letters so we’re filtering it. Tried to do a pre-filter with the stockings Kris found by the highway but it turns out they’re waterproof. Who knew?

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