You will Miss Sarajevo

There are a few cities in the world where you visit and, for whatever reason, can’t seem to leave. Unlike Paris or Rome - where you could spend weeks visiting museums and sites -  these are cities that lure you in with their easiness, inviting you to just hang out for a while. Until suddenly, ten days later, you’re wondering where so much time went, and how it’s possible that you’re still not ready to go?

Sarajevo is one of these cities.

If you’re a history buff, you will remember that it was in Sarajevo where the shot that started WWI was fired. If you’re a music fan, you might recognize U2’s tribute, “Miss Sarajevo,” and if you’re a sports fan,

you probably watched the 1984 Sarajevo Winter Olympics.

If you’ve read Lonely Planet this year, you’ll know that Sarajevo is listed as one of the Top 10 Cities to Visit in 2010.

But if you’re like most people, you will still get chills from the very name Sarajevo, remembering that from 1992 to 1996, during the Bosnian War, it was the victim of a siege that has been compared to Stalingrad in brutality.

When I first arrived, I felt uncomfortable to be in a city that still has bullet holes in its buildings, libraries still in ruins, and thousands of its residents still unaccounted for, while I knew next to nothing about what went on there.

But I didn’t have to worry about my lack of knowledge for long – Sarajevo is also a history teacher.

For a fairly small city – about half the size of Portland – it has many museums, including a History Museum with photos, newspaper articles and artifacts detailing, sometimes excruciatingly, the siege in the 1990s.

There are “Sarajevo Roses” around the city: old mortar shell explosion-sites filled in with red paint so they can’t be missed. You’ll see them on the sidewalks, in parks, in a marketplace where civilians were killed while they queued up for bread.

There are many commemorative plaques; one where Franz Ferdinand was murdered, another on the former National Library that says: ‘On this place Serbian criminals in the night of 25th, 26th August 1992 set on fire National and University’s Library of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Over 2 millions of books, periodicals and documents vanished in the flame. Do not forget, remember and

 warn.’

There is a guided tour to the tunnel that led one million Sarajevans out of their besieged city to safety.

You can walk through the remaining 20 metre section and try to imagine how it felt to make that walk not twenty years ago, risking your life to leave the city you love.

The tour guide, probably a young Bosnian who lived through the siege himself, then takes you to the spot in the mountains where part of the Olympic luge still sweeps down through the trees. Ten years after it was used for sport, it was the point from which soldiers fired down into the city.

I asked my guide, Mustafa, why the past seemed more available in Sarajevo than in other Croatian and Serbian cities, which suffered through the same war but do not have nearly the same amount of commemoration.

‘We didn’t do anything wrong in Sarajevo, we

were not the aggressors, so we aren’t ashamed to talk about it,’ Mustafa said.

Sarajevo wants its history, albeit sometimes

painful, on display so that it doesn’t repeat itself.

But its history isn’t all bad, it’s not limited to the siege, and it didn’t begin in the 1990s: it was the Ottoman Empire that had the biggest impact on Sarajevo, not to mention the tastiest.

Thanks to 400-years of Ottoman rule in Bosnia, there are coffee shops aplenty in which to sit for hours with strong cups of Turkish coffee. That is, when your mouth isn’t full of cevapcici; a minced-meat, Ottoman-era delicacy that is enjoyed throughout the Balkan countries, but perfected in Bosnia, where its is paired with onions and sour cream on a doughy flatbread.

 Fascinating history lessons, great coffee, spicy cevapcici, and all a fraction of the price that you’d pay elsewhere.

No wonder the city is a black hole for tourists.

You’ll see them wandering the cobblestone streets of Bascarsija, feeling like they’ve just stepped out of Europe and into the Middle East. Bascarsija, the old Ottoman bazaar, is the heart of Sarajevo now just as it was four hundred years ago. Each of its narrow streets is dedicated to a particular craft; you can buy rugs, pottery, handmade jewelry, and copper coffee sets. In the doorway of the tiny shops, the employees sit on carpeted stools, drinking little coffees, while the sweet scents of shisha waft out of cafes and the calls to prayer sound from the minarets overhead.

Legend says that if you drink water from one of Sarajevo’s many fountains, you’ll come back someday; most visitors, although having spent more than enough time in the city already, will have a quick,, hopefuly sip from the fountain in the centre of Bascarsija, outside the Ferhadija Mosque.

Before the siege displaced 100,000 people, Sarajevo was called the Jerusalem of Europe with its mixed population of Bosnian Muslims, Serbian Orthodox and Croatian Catholics. The demographics have changed, but within the city you can still Catholic and Orthodox churches, a synagogue, and mosques such as Ferhadija, the country’s finest example of Ottoman Islamic architecture, damaged but not destroyed in the war.

Together, they have reached a level of peaceful co-existence where other Bosnian cities have not been

so successful.

Despite all its tragedy, it is a city that inspires. Only Sarajevo could have produced stories such as the 1993 Miss Sarajevo pageant, held in one of the many underground cellars for protection. Or the “Romeo and Juliet” of Sarajevo, a young couple killed at the foot of a bridge as they tried to escape their burning city.

The owners of a restaurant called “To Be or Not To Be” crossed out the “Not to Be” on the sign over their door, offering no other choice but to survive. On the wall of that restaurant today is a poster of the Cellist of Sarajevo, defying snipers by playing his instrument amid the rubble of the National Library.

If a city can be defined by a word, then Sarajevo’s word is LIVE.

On the eleventh night of my scheduled 2-day trip to Sarajevo, I met my friends in the Sarajevska Pivara Brewery across the Miljacka River, a grand room with delicious dark beer and good music. The brewery is one of Bosnia’s most successful industries, established during Ottoman rule and flourishing under the Austro-Hungarians. It is also one of the best places in the city to spend an evening.

When we left at midnight, the snow had started to come down. By the next day, it would cover the entire city, from the cobbles of Bascarsija up to the cold mountains, where red flags warning of landmines are still posted in the grass.

We walked home in the dark, clear night, sliding along the sparkling roads, throwing snowballs and drawing our initials on windshields. The windows of the houses were yellow-tinted and peaceful.

We felt exhilarated to

 be alive, sorry that we didn’t know enough about what happened here in the past, but grateful to have finally learned.

And we thought maybe that’s why Sarajevo makes everyone stay around for so long: you can’t leave before you understand it, this city that makes you wholeheartedly believe in the promise of a water fountain.

Guess where I am ...?

Yep, STILL IN SARAJEVO!!

Jesus, this city is like a black hole!

Right, ONE more day, and then we should feel satisfied that we've properly done and dusted Sarajevo!

But how do you leave when every day is better than the one before?

Yesterday, we walked through the rain down Mula Mustafa road, to the big yellow Holiday Inn that housed journalists during the siege. Along the way, we finally saw some Sarajevo roses on the ground (where mortar holes were filled in with red paint).

They were also on the walls in the open market that had a bomb land right in the middle of it.

On the way back, we stopped for a couple of beers at the very lively City Pub, then had another dinner at the Steak House (we're becoming regulars there ... the quirky little promoter-guy actually gave us a flier for their OTHER restaurant!).

Afterwards, we had one drink at Hacienda, then went home to bed.

This morning, we woke up late, and headed straight for the History Museum.

We stayed the extra day today so that we could see it ... and boy am I ever glad we did!

It has a huge collection of photos from the siege and info and we left feeling flabbergasted that the war happened so recently and we really didn't know much about it.

I have no idea why the same type of thing doesn't exist in Vukovar, which, after all, suffered the same fate.

It was freezing in the museum and outside, so we went for a warm lunch down the street (and enjoyed the funny caricatures on the walls).

Coffee at Baghdad Cafe, beers at Hacienda, cevapi for dinner ... it was a perfect final night in Sarajevo.

Let's hope we escape tomorrow!!

A Sarajevo snowfall...

I never thought I'd live to see this!

And because the snow is so magical, we decided to spend ONE more day in Sarajevo. Mike, however, would be happy to spend the rest of his two-week holiday here because he loves it so much (and so do I). I'm happy I met him; I wouldn't want to be here without someone else to enjoy it with.

So, after the little fairy-dusting of snow last night, I awoke to a serious blizzard. A foot of snow on the ground, at least, and there I was with only thin little shoes that are too small and are hurting my feet already. The pain, plus the snow, made wearing them all day an impossibility, so I was determined to find new footwear.

Miraculously, I found a pair of boots in a thrift shop; they are 2 different shades of pink, fur-lined, and one size too big. But for 9KM (5 euros) ... they'll do! In fact, they've given me so much comfort today that I don't think I've ever been happier with a purchase in my life! They're the ugliest things I've ever owned and I love them dearly.

Dripping with snow, I decided to relax and celebrate my purchase with another gorgeous caffe latte at Cafe Alfonso. After a good hour, I met Mike, and we went for lunch at The Steak House. ). We sat for a couple of hours, enjoying our food and coffee, surrounded by funny old South African ladies on tour. Then we returned to Cafe Alfonso and drank green tea while watching Fashion Television and feeling cozy in our seats.

Mike went home after an hour or so, and I went to mass at the Cathedral next door. It wasn't as spectacular as the one in Osijek, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

I then went to a restaurant called To Be Or Not To Be: the Not To Be was crossed out during the siege to make it seem more positive, and they kept it that way. There was great jazz playing and cool posters on the walls and I enjoyed my Sarajevsko Pivo until Mike arrived.

We trekked to the other side of the river to find a cinema, but the only movie playing was in Bosnian, so instead we bought some delicious goodies from a bakery and walked over to Hacienda. We sat upstairs and there was great disco playing, and we had a beer and a glass of wine and a great chat.

I'm happy to have found, in both him and Patrick, people I get along with extraordinarily well.

I LOVE THIS BEAUTIFUL WORLD!!

I love Sundays (especially in Sarajevo)

Sundays are so chilled out, and if it weren't so drizzly outside I'd like to sit on a park bench all day.

Sarajevo has far surpassed my expectations, and I can see how a person could get stuck here for a very long time.

Yesterday I spent a good amount of time at Baghdad Cafe, then I wandered around Bascarsija, bought some socks (that now have holes in them... and they weren't cheap!), and returned via the river path, past the bridge where Franz Ferdinand was shot, to the big fountain in the middle of Bascarsija, with pigeons in surround sound, where I met Mike at 6:00.
We headed back to Baghdad Cafe for a little tea and a catch-up, and afterwards went to dinner at The Steak House. I had the GREATEST veal with potatoes, tonnes of vegetables, and a beer. Delicious!!




At 8:00, we met two people who had been in our room the night before, plus their friend from Brisbane, and we all went to the Guinness Pub to watch the England-South African rugby final (South Africa won). That was pretty cool; it was good to meet some different people. But they all study together in Budapest, so they weren't super interested in getting to know us.

We went for a few more drinks at Hacienda (a very cool bar which Mustafa recommended), then headed home at 2am, chatted for a little while, and went to sleep.

I got up at 11:00 this morning and walked around on a huge mission to find a Catholic church amongst all the Mosques. I really wanted to see a mass, hoping it'd be as great as last week in Osijek. When I finally found a church, its mass had already come and gone, so it was coffee-o'clock instead. I found a very chic cafe called Cafe Alfonso, with Fashion TV on big screens, catwalks raised among the tables and Moloko on the loudspeakers. Fantastic place!

I meet Mike in the afternoon and we had our first (of many) cevapcici at a little fast food joint, then took a stroll through the markets, looking at brass coffee/tea sets. We were accosted twice by a crazy old gypsy woman looking for money.

We both drank from the fountain by the Mosque; they say that whoever drinks from that fountain will definitely return to Sarajevo, so I wanted to hedge my bets.

We had planned to leave Sarajevo today, but neither of us were quite ready to go, so we're staying until tomorrow (I'm having flashbacks of Cesky Krumlov).

After spending a long day in town, we went back to the room to relax a bit. We lay on our beds and laughed, talking about how the poor Serbian Tourism bureau must have a really tough time marketing such a crappy country. Mike suggested their motto should be: "Serbia: the launchpad of Europe" (because everything else will look great in comparison!).

I now understand Serbian expansionism: they wanted to keep some beautiful parts of Yugoslavia because they have none of their own! (but even saying that, poor Serbia, being any part of the Balkans, will always put a smile on my face).

As we were about to head out again for dinner, we met a new couple staying across the hall from us: Gee (a nice girl from New Zealand) and her boyfriend, Dave (from England). They invited us to dinner with them and we accepted. We ate at a traditional restaurant full of locals. I had some sort of bean soup, salad, and a really good time.

We decided to head over to the Sarajevska Pivara Brewery across the river; it is a huge place with really delicious dark beer and good music (Richard Marx and Bryan Adams... can't beat that!). We had a lovely time.

When we left, the snow had started to come down so we threw snowballs and took photos and marvelled at the beauty of it all.

Sarajevo is really going to have a special place in my heart.

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.




-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


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)