Sarajevo

We're in Sarajevo now. Yesterday we walked around the old town and the markets, saw some places of worship (there's a major mosque, synagogue, Orthodox cathedral, and Catholic church within a few blocks of each other), and saw the little museum on the corner where Franz Ferdinand was assassinated. I will write more about it later. The whole crew from Mostar has headed this way, and we all met up again last night. We went out for čevapčiči and then to a bar called the City Pub, which was really happening, except that we noticed that we were about the only ones drinking alcohol. We don't know if the residents here usually abstain, or if they're just observing Ramadan, but it's interesting to be in a European Muslim country. I was awakened by a call to prayer at 5:30 this morning, fell back asleep, and was awakened again by church bells at 7:30. Now we're going to meet Nicolas to go to some of the war museums, then tomorrow we're off to Budapest.

Welcome to Sarajevo

We took the early train this morning from Mostar to Sarajevo with Nicolas, Chaw, and Ya'el, three new friends from our hostel in Mostar. We just checked into our hostel here, and are going to meet Nicolas at a cafe in about an hour. Our excursion yesterday was incredible. It was led by Bata, the brother of Majda, the proprietress of our hostel. We were joined by Nicolas, who is from Argentina; Chaw, who is originally from Hong Kong but lives in Manchester; Ya'el, who is Israeli; Zmago, from Slovenia; Logan, from Portland; and Stephan, from Munich. The last three guys were travelling together in a car, so they followed along and James, Nicolas, and I rode with Bata. First, we went to Počitelj, a medieval Muslim city on a hill outside of town, and Bata gave us a tour and told us the history of the place. He also gave a running commentary while he drove, and was very frank about both ancient and recent history. After that, we headed up to Kraviče, a lake surrounded by waterfalls, and went swimming in the very very cold water. We even climbed inside one of the waterfalls, through some caves, and sat underneath and looked out onto the lake. It was beautiful. Both James and I commented that we had no idea that Bosnia would be as beautiful as it is. After we had dried off, we drove through Međugorje, the site where the Virgin Mary appeared to some teenagers in the 1980's, and where James and I had originally planned to spend the day (so glad we didn't, it's really kitschy and kind of disturbing), and out on the other side of Mostar to a dervish house on the river. We had a big traditional dinner that couldn't be beat, sat around drinking wine, and then took a little boat into some caves at the end of the river. Apparently, the light reflects in really interesting ways inside, but we had waited too long and the sun was already going down. We still had a lot of fun, though. We got back around 8, totally exhausted and rahat (that means satisfied).

So, now we're in Sarajevo, about to go meet Nicolas and explore the town. That's all for now!

Mostar

James and I took the first bus from Dubrovnik to Mostar yesterday morning. We both had our books out, but didn't read a word, because the scenery was so beautiful. Our route hugged the coast for most of the way, and we could see out to the islands offshore. Then, we turned inland toward Bosnia, and travelled through farmland and abandoned villages for about the last hour. Coming into Mostar was quite a shock; the first few buildings we saw were covered in bullet holes, and a lot of them had broken glass or blown out windows. Some of the buildings are in such ruins that trees are growing inside, and the branches are poking out of the roof, and between the building stones and where the windows used to be. It is obviously a lot poorer here than in Croatia, too: I don't think we saw one person begging in Zagreb or Dubrovnik, but we have seen a fair number here (although not as many as one might expect). We took off to find our hostel, and immediately got spectacularly lost. In Croatia, it seemed like all we had to do was look confused, and someone would come up to us and ask if they could help. This is obviously a lot to ask; as we have since found, Bosnians are just as nice, but perhaps ever so slightly less aggressive.

We decided to take a break and stop for lunch at a little fast food stand, where James sampled the cevapi, a traditional Bosnian meat sausage wrapped in pita bread. Reinvigorated by nourishment, we tried again, this time stopping in a little shop to ask the woman there if she recognized the address of our hostel. She didn't know, and she didn't speak English, so she walked us over to the cafe next door, opened the door, and hollered into the room. The men sitting around one of the tables laughed, but said they didn't know. A young woman stopped to look at the name I had written down, but she didn't recognize it either. I showed her the alternate name of the street that had been provided in the directions, and she recognized that, so she gestured for us to follow her. Only then did we learn that she spoke good English. She asked us what we were doing in Mostar, and we told her we were on holiday, and she said, "Why?" and laughed. We muttered a few things about wanting to see the bridge, and how Bosnia was a beautiful country, and how friendly people were, and we soon settled into a conversation. It took us about 5 minutes to find the street, and she wished us luck and went on her way.

We checked into our hostel, got our things together, and then set out in search of the old city. It was incredible, but really sad. It's hard to explain; it will be better when we can post pictures. We saw some cemetaries filled with the graves of Muslims, all of different ages, but all with dates of death in 1993. We went into a mosque, and climbed the minaret, which gave spectacular views of the bridge and river, but which made me dizzy. We saw a Turkish house, with exhibits of how people lived there hundreds of years ago. And then we crossed the amazing old bridge that was destroyed in the war and has recently been rebuilt. The river is beautiful; we agreed that we have never seen water so green. We browsed the souvenir shops, some of which had for sale old weaponry and military medals. We were pretty disturbed, but really taken with the beauty of the old city. We stopped at a cafe, and this time Elizabeth had the cevapi and James had some brains (for it wouldn't be one of our trips unless we ate some crazy shit) which I also tried, and which I have to say were delicious, and we both sampled the Hercegovinian wine, which is delicious. It was the first day of Ramadan, and we heard calls to prayer, and as it got dark, we saw some men with beards and women with headscarves enter a restaurant across the street that must have been for Muslims, because we had checked the menu there earlier and ruled it out because it didn't serve alcohol. We came back late to the hostel, and now we're sitting in the living room getting ready to go on a tour led by the proprietess' brother to some of the smaller villages. So, we'll write all about that later! We are having a great time and loving every minute.

Dubrovnik

Well, Dubrovnik is paradise. I promise to write all about it later. Yesterday we explored the Stari Grad, or old town, and today we sat on the beach (don't worry, Mom, I wore plenty of sunscreen). Tomorrow we're off to Bosnia early early in the morning. I'll write more soon!

Zagreb

We were in Zagreb for less than twenty-four hours, but it was more than enough time to appreciate the city's charm and see just about all the available sights (Zagreb is a city of museums, which are apparently all closed on Mondays. Oh, well). For all that the names of the countries we are visiting bring to mind images of war and instability (even in the prologue to Black Lamb and Grey Falcon, her epic book on Yugoslavia, which I am now reading, Rebecca West writes, "Violence was, indeed, all I knew of the Balkans: all I knew of the South Slavs" - that was written in 1941, which gives you an idea of the history of this region), I can't imagine a much more peaceful place than the city of Zagreb. It is quiet and busy but unhurried.

Waiting in the airport last night, I wrote a long description of our day in Zagreb, but we are anxious to explore Dubrovnik, so I will have to type it up later! Dubrovnik is gorgeous, the guesthouse we're staying in is so charming, and we are having a great time.