Bosnia i Herzegovina, part VI - Sarajevo (iv): City centre and the morning

When I left early next morning to catch my bus back to Zagreb, it was to find a completely different version of Sarajevo to the one that I had bade goodnight to the day before. This Sarajevo was blue-skied and clear, the air was fresh and crisp rather than cold and heavy and chill, and there was a sense of just-washed laundry about the whole city that was very becoming. I wish I'd been able to see more of this blue, clean Sarajevo, but alas, it was not meant to be, just like so many other things.

Can you tell, that I was a little sad at leaving, and at the city and the people I was leaving behind? I'm coming back, of course I'm coming back, but this time it will be different. To amend the words of my friend, I don't have the nerves for it anymore, and the years are passing me by.

Aboard the bus

Outside the AS

On my way out of Sarajevo

One last.. doviđenja.

Bosnia i Herzegovina, part V - Sarajevo (iii): Baščaršija and the city centre

All these pigeons are triggering my trypophobia, but it's one of Sarajevo's landmarks, so there we go

I walked around a lot more, and climbed up one of the hills, and then realised it was a mass cemetery dedicated to the victims of the Bosnian War, and went back down the hill, feeling immensely sad and sorry for the people who had died. I didn't have the heart to take photos there.

Wide-angle view of Sarajevo and the Miljacka river

I don't think I ever mentioned this in any of my previous entries, but there was something strange about this country. The scars of the war were still so recent and the land itself was scarred. There were sniper houses, and I could recognise them because my own country has them. There were pieces of shrapnel, of broken houses and buildings, and this was especially apparent on the highways. I've been given to understand that BiH is the only country in Europe that has active landmines, and that this is an active hazard and that people are strongly advised not to venture off the beaten track on their own. I actually did see a cow who had the misfortune to step on a landmine, and it had been blown up and all its bloody innards were spread over the motorway. This was on the way from Mostar to Sarejevo. Strange country, but for all that, the people there were unusually happy, and friendly - old men would smile at me and touch their hats, and people would say hello to me as I paced the streets of Sarejevo.

Anyway, I went and had some Bosnian pot - recommended by the super friendly receptionist. It was good, but very heavy. I'm surprised that the people here are still so thin, considering how rich the food is.

And the Old Town.

View from the cemetery..

FC Barcelona when they were younger (and hotter)

Little Istanbul is what some people call Sarajevo

I decided I hadn't had enough walking, so I walked to the AS, and then back to the hostel.

And here's the hostel, and where everything started to unravel, lmao.