First day in Sarajevo

(first things first: I'm about to eat a breakfast but I have no idea what it is. Eggs, bread, and a kind of chocolate/vanilla/jelly/mousse concoction that looks strange but tastes delicious. Just in case it kills me, you'll know what it was).

So, the bus ride from Belgrade yesterday took 7 hours. It wasn't too brutal; Mike and I chatted for most of it and watched one of those movies about the 2 Grandpas that Sasa showed me (oh! Sasa!).

We arrived in Sarajevo at 11:00pm. We watched the temperature gauge drop as the bus drove along, so we were prepared for chilliness (thank God I bought my new coat!). At the bus station, we squabbled for a few minutes with a taxi driver who we were sure was trying to rip us off, finally deciding to find our own way to the hostel.


We first got on a tram going the opposite way, but quickly figured out our mistake and turned back. I was disappointed to arrive in town after dark because I knew it must look spectacular and I wanted to see it.

We found the hostel reception in the centre of town and a nice man brought us by car across the river and way uphill to our room. It was a dorm room in little house with a separate lounge and kitchen. Unfortunately, the place is FREEZING, but other than that, it's peaceful and quiet.

We were pretty tired, but hungry, so we had some green tea, a plate of plain rice and a smoke, then went to sleep.

This morning, I woke up and left the hostel before anyone else woke up, and I'm now waiting to go on a tour.

Haven't really seen anything yet, but I'm well impressed with Sarajevo thus far.




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It's seven hours later, and I'm officially in love with Sarajevo.

It's basically like travelling to Morocco without all the shit parts of Morocco, plus all the great parts of the Balkans.

Absolutely incredible.

And even though I'll probably have frostbite somewhere by the time I leave, I couldn't be happier.


So, the tour was very interesting. There was me, 3 snobby Slovenian girls, and a very keen Asian guy. Our guide was named Mustafa, and his father used to smuggle people out of town during the war, so he was able to give really interesting personal accounts.


First, we drove to the tunnel museum, up in the mountains, that was used to smuggle supplies in and people out of Sarajevo during the war. We got to walk through the little stretch of tunnel that is still there, really narrow and deep and dark. You can't even imagine people going up there with their whole life on their back, afraid to be snipered at any minute.


After that, we drove to the 1984 Olympic Village in the mountains (it was seriously, really cold up there ... my feet have yet to recover), where there was a nice lookout over the town. Part of the old luge still sweeps over the road, where ten years later the snipers set up shop to shoot down on the town. There are still signs posted warning of landmines.



Besides the history lesson, it was absolutely beautiful up there because there is snow on the dark green trees, and some of the leaves are yellow, so it makes a striking contrast.

I'm really impressed with the way that Sarajevo embraces and discusses its war history, unlike Osijek or Vukovar. The Sarajevo roses (haven't seen any yet), this war tour, plaques on the National Library that the Serbs burned down, a plaque on the bridge where Franz Ferdinand was assassinated. These are all good things to have, I think, because they ensure that people won't forget what happened here.


Slavenka Drakulic says, in They Would Never Hurt a Fly, that not talking about the past is a big problem in Croatia: "My father never spoke about the four years he fought as a partisan under the command of Josip Broz Tito in the Second World War. He wanted to forget it, and for a long time I saw this as a sign of sanity and self-preservation ... And the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that the combination of his silence and the official version of the historical events of 1939 - 1945 made this latest war possible ... Only now can I understand how easy it is to start a war in the absence of facts".


In Sarajevo, I feel comfortable with it because I understand it and am learning about it. Plus, I'm a bit disappointed and outraged that this went on not that long ago in these beautiful countries and apparently we all just stood back and helplessly watched? Of course, I recognize the place names, but why don't I know more?

Mustafa dropped us at the hostel reception and I had a wander through the old town, called Bascarsija. Lots of people and smells, a Mosque in the middle, windy alleyways and narrow streets. Just what I wanted today, to walk around in a peaceful area, away from exhaust fumes!


I'm now in the pefect Baghdad Cafe, just finished a delicious coffee, and I don't want to move for an hour.

Life could not be more perfect than it is right now. (Unless it were just five degrees warmer)