"Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina" Sarajevo by edwis

While in Croatia for a week, J (the tour guide) promotes an idea that we should all drive up to Sarajevo, Bosnia for a couple days. He says it will only be about 3 hours or so. Of course, translated it becomes a 6 hour trip. We rented a little red car at the Osmine Resort complex in Slano, Croatia which turns out to be a little Chevy like no model we have ever seen before. The wheels are about the size of tricycle tires. We are assured that driving into Bosnia will be permissible and safe. Oh my god, I think.

We navigate our way out of some Croatian mountains, then through low flatlands, and then onto regular country roads through rolling hills. We are moving along quite well but as we approach the border town area entering Bosnia, all traffic is backing up and finally comes to a dead stop. We don’t know what is happening and we are tired of driving, hot and worn out. So we sit patiently and then it becomes one and one-half hours to go about 3 miles before we meet the border guards. We politely showed our passports and are waved through in about 20 seconds. Clear sailing the rest of the way. No idea of what the hold up was all about.

The drive for the final hour or so is just spectacular, weaving in and out, up and down the mountain terrain (Dinaric Alps) following the snaking river gorge road. The wooded scenery is unbelievable with few towns and little traffic and very few fuel stops or rest areas along the way.

“J” had us booked at an in-city residential hotel, not one of the Holiday Inn chain for sure. As we are being shown our rooms, the staff person tells us that the suite we have is the same one that ‘Bono’ – celebrity rock star – stayed in just two nights earlier while in Sarajevo. The grand old place is spectacular; actually within our suite on the top floor, with all the rooms counted, I stated that this place has more square footage than our house back in Florida. The bathroom area was a whole large room behind glass sliding doors and walls complete with Jacuzzi and bidet features. If we met any homeless people that night we would be able to invite them to one of several bedrooms we had. There were three televisions and six remotes lying around, and after two days I still couldn’t get anything to operate right.

We asked around about good restaurants to eat at, and determined that the best place was the one called the (Inat Kuca Nacionalni) “national house”. We were told that they serve ‘oriental’ foods, so I was expecting having to use some chop sticks. But here ‘oriental’ did not mean Chinese type food, but rather a fusion of Turkish and local Bosnian specialties. The place was an old three story house right on the Miljacka River across from the downtown area. We climb up three flights of old curvy and rickety narrow steps and find a table in loft area. You could not stand up at some tables which were under the sloping roof beams. Plus, the waiters all had to navigate the stairs many times serving each table. You could see that they tried to consolidate orders and be efficient in their stair usage. We had a interesting and fun ‘native’ meal complete with their local fine beer “Sarajevska Pivara” (beer is ‘Pivo’ in Croatian, so it was recognizable).

The next day Joan and I are walking around distant neighborhoods doing some exploring, and come across a beautiful brightly orange colored factory complex with a very ornate entry way. It was the Sarajevska Pivara brewery! The terrain is very hilly with steep streets and with many homes seemed just perched on the hillsides. While we were there, the Sarajevo Film Fest had just ended, but there were lots of reminders and some artsy types still around.

We found lots of evidence of the war years – bullet holes in bus benches, sides of buildings, and a very dramatic / disturbing cemetery visit. We viewed a whole steep hillside of the same white tombstones, showing way too many death markers during the year 2002. The war damage in Bosnia was far worst than that in Croatia.

ed in the public market

full of mosques and accompanying minaret towers. Everywhere you look you see and then hear the towers throughout the day. We noted that loudspeakers began playing prayer calls at 0550 in the morning outside our hotel window. We found this to be very exotic ambiance. On one of our strolls towards the local market area, we came across a mosque, which seemed to welcome us into a large courtyard and we found several women in stances of prayer or something, and it was a very eerie presence for us not knowing if we were welcome or hated, or being intrusive. We noticed one young lady however, who was sitting in the carpeted prayer area while applying eyeliner and makeup under her veiled dress up. While we were the only Anglos in this area, we did watch a guy who seemed to be some type of foreign reporter doing an interview with a local. That presence made us feel a little safer. Later on while walking the streets, we noticed one younger lady who was under the veiled outfit, but was wearing a pair of stylish blue jeans under.

The market area is really nice; full of a variety of shops, rug sellers, cafes etc. There were some local women carrying little babies who seemed to be professional beggars. But we obliged them anyways in the interest of international relations.

I really need a place to sit down and rest awhile, so I decided to get a haircut as we walked by a barber shop type place. As I sat in the chair I notice several certificates, diplomas and awards posted on the wall while being groomed. Some of these were very impressive being from Brussels, Paris etc. I was starting to feel more comfortable now. No English was spoken during this transaction. I got a great cut, and the charge once converted was only $4.30 American! Then I gave a dollar tip, so everyone was very happy these goofy Americans stopped in. Joan just sat in a waiting chair and flipped through some popular magazines.

in the mosque

area full of artists and saw a live chess game being played by older guys on the plaza’s cement squares. The pieces were like three feet tall each. But every time someone moved a chess piece, you could count on a five minute discussion / argument from the guys standing around watching. What fun that was.

We ended out trip with a big, long and exotic lunch at a local place that translated as the “wild hunter’s club”. We all ate some items that day that we never had before. Lunch was finished with traditional ‘Turkish’ coffee served in a little silver pot with special cups (or was it actually mud I think).