I arrived in Sarajevo via the train. I met a 30-something year old Kiwi woman who was heading to Sarajevo as well and wanted a travel companion for the 11-hour journey. We found a decent compartment and the trip was relatively easy. When we arrived, it was definitely dark out and there was absolutely nothing open in the train station. No information kiosks, nothing. Her hostel had someone meeting her there to pick her up, so once she left I was solo in a dark concrete building that looked like it was built by the Soviets.
I wandered around for a minute trying to get my bearings and wondering if I could just walk into the city. I couldn't. I was hesitant to take a cab, but having no other options, I went for it. Turned out my cabbie was a nice guy and didn't screw me over on the fare on the way in. He even gave me a little tour, explaining everything we were driving past.
In the hostel, I met a few Canadians who had just finished their first year of law school. It made me feel good that I'll still have some degree of freedom once I begin law school, although I think I'll find it difficult explaining to people that I don't want to get a job but want to continue traveling over my summer vacation after I've just completed an 8-9 month epic.
The hostel I was staying at was in a cool area in the Old Town, so we all headed out for a beer and to check out the seemingly vibrant night scene. We had a few drinks but I wanted to get up and have a productive day so I tapped out early.
The next morning, I booked a tour of the tunnels on Brian Love's advice, and began wandering around Old Town. I saw the Latin Bridge, where Gavrilo Princip started World War I by assassinating the heir to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Archduke Franz Ferdinand.
I noticed that the office where I was supposed to be at 2pm for my tour was nearby, so I thought I'd stop in and confirm. When I arrived, the guy working said there was another bigger and better tour starting in 5 minutes that included the tunnels. I was hesitant until he said the tour guide was a soldier who defended the city during the siege. Sign me up.
There were only three people on the tour. An elderly couple from California and myself. I used the opportunity to ask the guide hundreds of questions about his experiences. He was 15 when the former Yugoslav army surrounded the city and began its 4-year siege. After a year, his parents signed a waiver that allowed him to serve in the Bosnian resistance army along the front lines. They spent all the money they had left so he could have a Kalashnikov.
When I was 16 I was only worried about my drivers license, homework, and girls. I can't imagine having to worry about dying to defend my city and my family. But as the guide, Nadim, said, "there was no retreating. If we retreated, the Serbs would have destroyed our homes and killed our families. We all would rather die than let that happen."
When he was 17 years old, he was on the front lines preventing the Serbs from taking over the Free Bosnian Territory and discovering the tunnel system that was keeping the city alive. He was on a ridge on Treskavica, one of the former Olympic mountains, when he was shot twice in the chest. The high-velocity rounds pierced his body armor and nearly killed him. He remembers getting shot but blacked out and woke up days later in the hospital. He spent only 4 months recovering and then returned to his unit on the front lines.
After the war, he was offered a promotion and asked to serve as an officer in the professional Bosnian army, which he declined. He went to medical school and is now an anesthesiologist working in the same hospital that he was treated in when he was 17.
He took us on a drive around the city, and we saw some of the old battlegrounds, the Olympic stadiums, and some of the massive graveyards--many of which are populated by those who died during the siege, 11,000 people.
The route that we took around the city gave us some spectacular views, but it also helped us understand just how dire the situation was for Sarajevans in 1992-1995. The city is surrounded on all sides by high mountains that give perfect views and strategic advantage. From those mountains, the former Yugoslav army could easily see and shoot just about everything in the city, which they did.
We took a drive through 'Sniper Alley' where civilians were picked off every day by Serbian sharpshooters as they tried to bring food and water across the city to the citizens. We saw the Holiday Inn, which was saved from bombardment because journalists were staying there to cover the war story. Eventually we reached the tunnels where we watched a short video on its construction and use, and then went down to tour the tunnels themselves.
Afterwards, I went around to several of the museums and basically saw everything I wanted to see in one day. I spent the rest of my time in Sarajevo simply wandering and trying to find new and interesting places. I really liked that city.
That night I hung out with the Canadians again and two very nice Spaniards who I practiced my Spanish with. We had a few beers, listened to some live music, and I met a group of Bosnian girls who taught us a few phrases, including the most important one of all--how to say, "cheers."
*Awesome side note, one of the Spaniards was named Emilio Estevez. I wish I had gotten a photo of his passport
The Bosnians took us to a club where there was some more live music. We had some fun there and agreed to meet the next day, although it never ended up happening.
The next day I walked around town for a while with the other Spaniard, Miquel. I tried burek, which I hadn't had yet. It was just as good as the cevapi, if not better, but I still couldn't get used to drinking yogurt with it, as is tradition. And drinking yogurt is exactly what it sounds like. It's thick, slightly sour, but not too viscous to drink.
The next day I hopped a bus to Dubrovnik, Croatia with two Canadian girls, excited to finally get to a beach.
Next post from Dubrovnik...
I wandered around for a minute trying to get my bearings and wondering if I could just walk into the city. I couldn't. I was hesitant to take a cab, but having no other options, I went for it. Turned out my cabbie was a nice guy and didn't screw me over on the fare on the way in. He even gave me a little tour, explaining everything we were driving past.
In the hostel, I met a few Canadians who had just finished their first year of law school. It made me feel good that I'll still have some degree of freedom once I begin law school, although I think I'll find it difficult explaining to people that I don't want to get a job but want to continue traveling over my summer vacation after I've just completed an 8-9 month epic.
The hostel I was staying at was in a cool area in the Old Town, so we all headed out for a beer and to check out the seemingly vibrant night scene. We had a few drinks but I wanted to get up and have a productive day so I tapped out early.
The next morning, I booked a tour of the tunnels on Brian Love's advice, and began wandering around Old Town. I saw the Latin Bridge, where Gavrilo Princip started World War I by assassinating the heir to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Archduke Franz Ferdinand.
 |
| Latin Bridge |
 |
| The gun that started the war |
There were only three people on the tour. An elderly couple from California and myself. I used the opportunity to ask the guide hundreds of questions about his experiences. He was 15 when the former Yugoslav army surrounded the city and began its 4-year siege. After a year, his parents signed a waiver that allowed him to serve in the Bosnian resistance army along the front lines. They spent all the money they had left so he could have a Kalashnikov.
When I was 16 I was only worried about my drivers license, homework, and girls. I can't imagine having to worry about dying to defend my city and my family. But as the guide, Nadim, said, "there was no retreating. If we retreated, the Serbs would have destroyed our homes and killed our families. We all would rather die than let that happen."
When he was 17 years old, he was on the front lines preventing the Serbs from taking over the Free Bosnian Territory and discovering the tunnel system that was keeping the city alive. He was on a ridge on Treskavica, one of the former Olympic mountains, when he was shot twice in the chest. The high-velocity rounds pierced his body armor and nearly killed him. He remembers getting shot but blacked out and woke up days later in the hospital. He spent only 4 months recovering and then returned to his unit on the front lines.
After the war, he was offered a promotion and asked to serve as an officer in the professional Bosnian army, which he declined. He went to medical school and is now an anesthesiologist working in the same hospital that he was treated in when he was 17.
He took us on a drive around the city, and we saw some of the old battlegrounds, the Olympic stadiums, and some of the massive graveyards--many of which are populated by those who died during the siege, 11,000 people.
The route that we took around the city gave us some spectacular views, but it also helped us understand just how dire the situation was for Sarajevans in 1992-1995. The city is surrounded on all sides by high mountains that give perfect views and strategic advantage. From those mountains, the former Yugoslav army could easily see and shoot just about everything in the city, which they did.
We took a drive through 'Sniper Alley' where civilians were picked off every day by Serbian sharpshooters as they tried to bring food and water across the city to the citizens. We saw the Holiday Inn, which was saved from bombardment because journalists were staying there to cover the war story. Eventually we reached the tunnels where we watched a short video on its construction and use, and then went down to tour the tunnels themselves.
 |
| Secret Entrance to the tunnels |
 |
| Shrapnel Damage |
 |
| A 'Sarajevo Rose'--the floral-like pattern that appears in the concrete after a grenade goes off |
 |
| Inside the tunnel where vital supplies, food, and ammunition were sent to help the city break the siege |
We drove around a bit more, got some more great views of the city which is now quite beautiful. It's amazing how well the city's infrastructure has recovered, although the scars are still quite evident.
That night I hung out with the Canadians again and two very nice Spaniards who I practiced my Spanish with. We had a few beers, listened to some live music, and I met a group of Bosnian girls who taught us a few phrases, including the most important one of all--how to say, "cheers."
*Awesome side note, one of the Spaniards was named Emilio Estevez. I wish I had gotten a photo of his passport
The Bosnians took us to a club where there was some more live music. We had some fun there and agreed to meet the next day, although it never ended up happening.
The next day I walked around town for a while with the other Spaniard, Miquel. I tried burek, which I hadn't had yet. It was just as good as the cevapi, if not better, but I still couldn't get used to drinking yogurt with it, as is tradition. And drinking yogurt is exactly what it sounds like. It's thick, slightly sour, but not too viscous to drink.
The next day I hopped a bus to Dubrovnik, Croatia with two Canadian girls, excited to finally get to a beach.
Next post from Dubrovnik...
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