Ivo Andric, The Bridge on the Drina

The last of the holiday reading, so read in part at Bordeaux Airport and on the plane back.  Very sad to be leaving, and after the first few days when I struggled to adjust to both the heat and the pace of life, I settled in to a happy regime, sleeping well, reading lots and mooching. Still managed a few cycles and runs, as well as some fun times with the kids. They are growing up and it could very well be the last time we all go on holiday together. I suspect not, Freddie seems in no rush to get a summer job or do his own thing, but lots could change by next summer. He's waiting for his GCSE results to come out next week and seems very confident of getting the grades he needs. The book was by a Yugoslav Noel Prize winner, and is centred around a bridge built by the Ottomans in a small Balkan village of mixed moslem, orthodox christians and jews. It could be seen as  a series of short stories told chronologically and only linked by the geographical location, but it's more than that, it's about the changes and tragedies the Balkans have seen, how different cultures affect each other and how the outsiders, whether they are Ottoman authorities or Austrian impact on everyday life. Much better than I could describe it