Japodski Otoci // Tell My Imaginary Wife Everything Will Be Okay
© Samir Arnautovic
Romance is everywhere at Japodski Otoci. In one way, the place is an open-air museum of romance. The rolling hills loll more serenely than they do elsewhere.
I don’t know if I can say that my imaginary wedding was the most beautiful day of my life. That is a more difficult question to answer than people realise. We live beautiful moments, not days. We aren’t awake for every second of the day, for one, so vouching for the time spent asleep is risky business. I know when I was the happiest. We had one cow. Šta?
Enough. My imaginary wedding didn’t take place at Japodski Otoci, because it was imaginary. My imaginary wife didn’t radiate happiness, because she is imaginary. My imaginary children weren’t on the way, because they are imaginary. None of that is real. The beauty of Japodski Otoci was very real, but inflating it with fictional romance is disrespectful. Disrespectful to everything. Disrespectful to Japodski Otoci, disrespectful to me, disrespectful to my imaginary wife, disrespectful to my imaginary children.
John.
I’m not going to write a mass of words about the Japodes. They were an ancient civilisation in these parts, ended by the Romans 400 years or so before Jesus caused the innkeeper a night of stress in Bethlehem. They lived in wooden huts, lived simple lives. They were warriors, herdsmen, metal workers. No, John, please. They were people. They lived lives. There are no simple lives.
© John Bills
Still, they worshipped a holy horse, which is cool, I guess. They also bowed down to holy snakes, a symbol of their ancestors. Making any sort of comment about that feels wrong. Don’t judge the things that people put on pedestals. Love is a big thing. Biblical, you could say.
Japodski Otoci today is not the Japodski Otoci of 400 BC. There are similarities, of course, the five islands creating stunning imagery on the ground and a sweeping wave of romance from the air. It makes a heart. That isn’t why we chose it as the site for our imaginary wedding, but it certainly helps.
15km or so from Bihać (near the village of Račić, to be exact), the modern-day interpretation of Japode life is a triumph. We walked around the islands, entered treehouses and discussed development and financing, but those words crumbled under the weight of romance. Yes, romance is crushing. Eventually, Japodski Otoci will become an open-air museum to this lost civilisation, but for now, it is an open-air museum to romance.
© Samir Arnautovic
It was delightfully peaceful. Water makes sumptuous sounds when it isn’t tempered by urban life, and it was easy to imagine escaping here and living a life of certainty punctuated by heady sighs and lazy mornings. Once again, I was stumped. How the hell was I going to be able to write about this? You can’t. I can’t. Yes, it is my job, but maybe I am not up to the task. The things you feel at places like Japodski Otoci transcend the limitations of language. Feelings are impossible to explain.
Walking around Japodski Otoci, it was blindingly clear that there will always be a chasm between experiences lived and experiences conveyed. That is a beautiful thing. Living in the moment is impossible because the future cannot be denied, but the moments we live are occasionally extraordinary. On Earth, we are briefly gorgeous. Dancing to Trepanning. Riding bikes in Berlin. Jerry Lynn by the castle. ’68 in a bowling alley. Nat gets a cable in Brighton. Presents in Dobrinja. We had one cow.
© HF media art // Shutterstock.com
And my imaginary wedding. A day of confused but happy families, of inclement weather that became a plus when it could quite easily have been a minus, of smiling faces and aching jaws, of exhaustion, of leaving early. I can’t say it was the happiest day of my life because it didn’t exist, but you know what I mean. Bosnia and Herzegovina is packed with stunning spots perfect for jumping into a lifelong commitment, but Japodski Otoci is on a level of its own. Life is terrifying, but it isn’t quite so scary when you are surrounded by stunning green islands, tender running rivers, sculptures of ancient warriors and the most beautiful human of all the humans.
I don’t really know what else to say. There is nothing in the previous 700 words that creates a picture of Japodski Otoci in the mind of the reader. Don’t be surprised, John, that is par for the course. I know nothing about golf (I know more about golf than I like to admit). This collection of gorgeous islands near Bihać will one day be packed with visitors, and the romance will be dulled somewhat. The story of the Japodes will expand but fade into the background, drowned in an avalanche of cliche photography and eventual Paris Syndrome. It happens to us all. We all get old.
So, I don’t know what else to say. I think about that imaginary day often. I think about Japodski Otoci often, but I haven’t been back since. One day, one day. Everything will be okay. I promise.
