5 Jul 2014 Dubrovnik/6 Jul 2014 Flight home

Our Zabljak hotel room is actually a suite, with a second room containing an extra bed and the TV. We seem to receive only 3 TV channels. One of them, Pink, must be the local answer to Oxygen. They run back-to-back episodes of cheesy telenovelas (lots of meaningful wide-eye stares, deathbed confessions, and spill-the-truth-to-the-person-in-a-coma) produced in India and Turkey(?). There are Serbian subtitles. Really funny to read that the Indian (or somewhere-in-the-picturesque-village) bubbies are crying out "Hvala Bogu!" (Thank G-d).

Zabljak turns out to be one of the highest inhabited mountain towns in the Balkans. Our hotel, Gorske Oci, attracts an international sports-minded clientele. There are groups from France and Israel this morning at breakfast, either cheering or mourning World Cup final scores. 

By choosing a visit to the internet café and Voli Supermarket over going to nearby Crno Jezero (Black Lake), Carol evidently missed a great walk yesterday after our return to town. Although it is a 10km walk around the entire lake (undertaken by the 2 who skipped the Durmitor hike), even those who chose just a look-see enthused about the forested surroundings and the local sellers of fresh fruit, berries, mushrooms, honey etc. Some of that goodness also goes into commercial preserves, one of which advertises itself as "Bosnian Viagra"; another, made from muškatne tikve (squash? pumpkin?)
seeds and oats in an apple jam "helps the enlarged prostate treatment, difficulty to eject urine, psoriasis, rheumatic ailments, and intestinal diseases - take 2 times daily for 3 less spoons! [sic]".

We are packed, fed, and checked out by 8AM. Ahead is a loooong drive to Dubrovnik, with sights to see and places to stop on the way. We exit Montenegro and drive through Bosnia/Herzegovina and then cross borders again.

Around 11AM we arrive in Trebinje, the southernmost city in Bosnia/Herzegovina, to visit a winery, Andelic Vinski Podrum. We receive a very complete history of local viticulture, in existence since Roman times. This winery has won awards for their traditional wines. Turns out that the Zilavka grape, a white varietal, is unique to three small micro locations in Herzegovina.  We sample 6 different wines, served generously along with munchies. Everyone is greatly mellowed and pleased. At 5 Euros a bottle, much wine is sold. Carol buys 2 bottles of grappa to take back to the US. Everything is packed to meet airline requirements.

As we head to the Croatian border, the Alps of the inland Via Dinarica give way to rugged coastline. We arrive in Dubrovnik early in the afternoon. Hotel Sumitor, our destination, is a resort hotel on the Lapad peninsula. It lies across the bay from the guesthouse where Carol and Mike stayed.

Today we are given roommates based on our departure arrangements. Those of us flying out of Dubrovnik tomorrow morning at 6:25, as well as those headed to Sarajevo, will get cracking before dawn for a final ride with our driver. Then upstairs to settle into our rooms.

The rest of the afternoon is free time, with a planned reunion by the fountain in the Old City (Stare Grad) at 7PM. There is a beach and a pool at Hotel Sumitor, but they don't interest Carol. She heads out to explore this part of Dubrovnik, with the goal of reaching the Old City in time to find if there is a non-touristy section (and maybe buy an inexpensive souvenir for herself).

From Lapad to Boninovo there are uphill streets leading away from the water. And some good eats growing wild - grapes and tart miniature plums. One residential area is a virtual Little England, with lots of sunburned Brits. There is a lovely oasis inside an almost hidden gated pocket park on the main road, where steep steps lead down to palm trees and trails below.

Finally, into the Old City, up and down the streets leading from the main plaza. As before, everything seems overpriced. A little store with folk art has an embroidered pin cushion. At 50 HRK (about $9.50) it is small, satisfying, and uses up the last Croatian currency. On the other side of the main plaza Carol runs into Netzy, and they walk through a less touristy part of town. The only commerce here - ladies who put out some crochet on benches.

Dinner is served right out on the street. Konoba Sciabecco sets up a line of tables - a little bit sloping downhill. The waitress refuses to serve tap water; Carol orders some tea (cheapest beverage) and a seafood pasta. After a boisterous meal, we catch the public bus back to Hotel Sumitor.

Up at 3AM to have time to shower and final pack. Everything somehow goes into the backpack, including the two packaged bottles of wine. Downstairs a bit after 4AM. Surprise - the hotel has a small breakfast ready for us. Day breaks as we drive to the airport. Three go in; four drive on to Sarajevo.

Inside the airport, there is a full component of passengers for Zagreb and beyond. In the line just in front of Carol is a Korean guy. After a while he calls over about 20 other tourists, who cut into line. "We're a group," he says. "And I'm a group of one," adds Carol, who steps in front of them all.

The 6:25 Croatian Airlines plane gets into Zagreb at 7:20. Then an 8:25 flight to Amsterdam. Kudos to Croatian Airlines for a great magazine. In at 10:30, with time to kill. On past layovers, Mike and Carol have enjoyed visiting the Rijksmuseum Schiphol Airport. However, it is closed for remodeling. Rats. Just then, there is an announcement for an 11:00 service at the "Meditation Center". Why not?

 

The Meditation Centre (their spelling) turns out to be a nifty space with non-denominational art, religious books spanning faiths and languages, and all the faith paraphernalia (e.g., prayer rugs, head coverings) anyone could need. There is a generic Christian service less than an hour long, with plenty of opportunity for introductions. Most of the attendees work at the airport; for many this is their first visit. We passengers share our 'journeys'. Carol is the only one who doesn't take communion (natch), but adds to the service by providing the Hebrew for the blessing. Turns out that the female officiate, Rev. Wina Hordijk, attended the international conference of airport chaplains in Atlanta a few years ago. She apologizes for the lack of hot drinks and sweets today; after today's service, the entire Meditation Centre will be taken down and relocated to a temporary site while this part of the airport (which will contain the museum) is redeveloped.

 

Time to make it to the gate before the 1:05 Delta plane to Atlanta boards. Several films and feedings later, landing at 4:56. Easy customs. All packed items (including the wine bottles) in great shape.

4 Jul 2014 Montenegro

Carol

A word about the wash last night. Have found that hiking poles make the perfect place to hang wet laundry. With windows open, dried like a charm.

Interesting fact. There is a detergent called Arf. Not made in Iran.

So much to choose from at buffet breakfast, but muesli, yogurt and fresh fruit *bananas* *apricots* and tea most tempting. Still a question as to where all the piggies are raised. We see cows, goats, sheep and beautiful horses, but nowhere is the source of pork found.

We are in Durmitor National Park, which takes up a large swath of Montenegro up to the Albania border. According to our guide, the country has 2 large parks and once thought to position itself as the eco country. Now a mix of eco sites and just regular stuff. According to our local guide, people here have a reputation of being lazy, working enuf to earn what they need and then just chilling (this from a Bosnian).

Anyway, we drive 30 minutes and start hiking above the treeline. Large elevation gain in a short distance. We self divide into 2 groups to reach the spectacular overlook. 360 degree view, mountains all around. This is true Alpine country. Crystal blue sky, important to drink our water and protect from the sun. We take an hour break for lunch *huge sandwiches of meat, cheese, egg* as the strong ones head on. Lots of time to photograph flowers.

Even the group that was headed to the second peak turns back before reaching it. Our group headed down before them. Slow and steady to reach the bus. Carol, although slow, made the trip down without a break.

At the bottom, we walked through a herd of mildly interested cows. Then, a Slovenian couple came by on bicycles, headed to southern Turkey. The guy said that they were each carrying 50 kg of weight in their 5 paniers. A NZ young woman came by in the opposite direction, Solo, she is spending several months biking around southern Europe. Ah, youth and sunscreen.

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at a tiny eatery and drinkery. The guy makes all kinds of homemade grappa. Sampled and bought some.

Wandering town before heading back to the hotel for dinner. Zabljack is a bit like Queensland or Aspen, a place for outdoor enthusiasts. Evidently, a lot of Russian money flowed into here. Hotels, 2nd homes, eco camps built. Some successful, some half built.

In honor of July 4th, one of the people in our group is wearing flag earrings. And so it goes.

3 Jul 2014 Bosnia

Carol

 

We leave Hotel Mladost and head for rafting. Cross the border and drive. We each get a wetsuit, boots, helmet. Then we cross back over the border to our put in point.

Being the rafting version, I am the deadweight passenger in the middle. It is fun. This is Class I to II water. Some splashing in. We turn 360 a few times. In the middle of the trip we leave the boat and climb up to a waterfall. Then back in and more paddling. Shower, dress. then lunch cooked at the camp over a fire. Baked casserole of meat, potatoes, carrots. Veggie stuffed peppers. Donuts fresh made.

Back in the van. Cross into Montenegro for good. Long drive to high meadowlands. In a nice hotel. Buffet dinner. Walk to local internet cafe.

2 Jul 2014 Mike Flies Home//Montenegro (Carol)

Mike

 

Up and on the street by 415.  Take the first city bus to the bus station, thus using up the last of the expensive bus rides.

 

On to the airporter.  To the airport before 530.  Everything goes normally.  We lift off.  We are in Zagreb before 730.  Now comes the wait.  Mike's next flight, to Charles de Gaulle in Paris, is not for 5 hours.  He has no kuna, no euros, and no way to eat.  Finally, he pulls out a credit card to get a sandwich and a drink.

 

The flight to Paris is uneventful, and the quick transfer (1 hr 15 min) takes place.  Mike is on his way home, but this is Charles de Gaulle, and his bags will not get in to Atlanta, until 3 Jul.  At least he kept the camera and the house keys in his pocket.

 

Carol 

A COLD shower. Good for the soul I guess.

Breakfast with omelets made to order. Platters of smoked meat, bologna, kaymak, sliced veggies. Big rolls. Juice. Mud coffee. Afterward, we prepare our lunch sandwiches.

We are awed by a huge daddy longlegs outside the motel door.  It walks up the glass window with ease.

Back into Sutjeska National Park today. That looooong gravel road is just outside our hotel. Still, a lengthy ride to our hike starting spot. We enter into a protected section of the park, past a guardhouse and barrier.

Yesterday's hike went to Lake Donje Bare, Ugljesin Peak and Tovamica Ridge. Today, we do a brief intro walk to see Skakavac Waterfall. Then back on the bus and up to Prijevor to hike down to Lake Trnovacko. Now you have all those names!

After about a half hour walking, we enter Crna Gora (Montenegro). No formalities, just a sign on the trail. Mostly downward, alternating hiking on ridge a deep forest. Flowers of all colors, pines, beech trees. The hiker who injured her wrist yesterday still has her arm in a sling, but makes great time with one pole. Mostly downhill walk, but still rocky and/or muddy in spots.

The lake is heart-shaped, if you use your imagination. The water is cold, with polliwogs and small fish. We are cautioned to cool down before dipping in (2 people do). A farmer has herded his cattle down to drink. Therefore, cow flops and flies. Lunch feels like a feast.

At one point, Carol goes by some trees to "squat." She finds a 20 pfennig KM coin, and gets a glob of sticky tree sap in her hair. Can't remove it.

Slow uphill back to the bus. By the end, solo with our American guide - nice conversation while walking.

1 Jul 2014 Dubrovnik (Mike)/Sutjevska Park (Carol)

1 Jul 2014 Dubrovnik (Mike)/Sutjevska Park (Carol)

Mike

 

The bus to Dubrovnik doesn't leave until after noon, so Mike has some time to kill.  Another walk around town.  In the tourist area, he finds a complete history of the Serbian/Bosnian/Croat controversy and buys it.  As is always in this part of the world, the truth of the matter is in the eyes of the narrator, and there is too much truth.  As Stephen Colbert would say: "The truthiness of the matter."  Here, truthiness is not necessarily truth - it is the opinion of the narrator as to the truth.

 

Finally, on the bus.  As before, the bus leaves Bosnia for Croatia, then back to Bosnia, then back to Croatia for the final hour or so along the coast into Dubrovnik.  This time, for some reason, the border crossings are so much more efficient, and we are in Dubrovnik about 2 hours faster than the last time.

 

Mike has arranged a room at the same hostel, but this time for 240 kuna, not 320 kuna.  He checks in, goes to the touristy parts of Dubrovnik, finds it every bit as overpriced as it was before.  The Lonely Planet Croatia is 172 kuna, more expensive than the same book in the USA, for example.

 

Dinner at the same restaurant, where Mike carefully uses up his kuna.  Tomorrow am he will catch the 455 bus to the airport, so it is early to bed, in the hopes that his alarm actually works.

 

Carol 

Today we leave urban Mostar for Sutjeska National Park. We also leave, after a certain point, Latin letters.

About an hour into our ride we are flagged down and asked to stop at a crossroads. Why? Driver gets out, another cop arrives, our feisty local guide is steamed. Several of us head further afield for a pee break. Eventually, back on the road. Local guide spends a while recounting story of childhood privations, fears and indignities during the bad times. These (probably Bosnian Serb) cops have brought back bad memories of the Chetniks.

Next town and the following have Cyrillic lettering on most signs. Also, cows instead of sheep. Probably no relationship.

More driving on main road, then UPHILL on loooong narrow gravel road. We pass some loggers. But, isn't this a national park...

Finally we get to trailhead. Out for lunch of PBJs, ajvar, cantaloupe. At some point, backpack feels wet. The rubber mouthpiece no longer on biteguard.

On to hike in tall meadow grass. Then sharp uphill. Group breaks up. Eventually, 5 of us start downhill. Carol does some butt skiing. When the full group reunites, one of our hikers has taken a bad fall. Her wrist has been skillfully tended to with the allied skills of our hikers. Two guys also have joined in this second group. One of them sports the cap of an Atlanta bar. Graduate of Chamblee HS and UGA. Small world.

Mouthpiece in bus.

Our hotel is a resort with post Soviet chalet style. Dinner of pork toast, veggies, risotto, vanilla pudding/ Now, to bed.

30 Jun 2014 Sarajevo to Mostar (Mike)/Mostar (Carol)

30 Jun 2014 Sarajevo to Mostar (Mike)/Mostar (Carol)

Mike

 

Breakfast at the hotel.  Mike settles his bill.  Time to see some of the Sarajevo anniversary exhibits - there is a big Peace exhibit which Mike can't find, but he does manage to find a large collection of political cartoons all along the river walkway, about War and Sarajevo and the eternal religious political fight that is Bosnia.  Back across the river for a very quick visit to the 11 July Museum, the museum about the killing of Muslims at Srebrenica on 11 July 1995 and the following weeks.    Mike only has about 30 minutes here.  Too bad.  This museum is worth hours.

 

It is starting to rain very heavily.  Mike runs back to the hotel, grabs his backpack, leaves the key, and between the raindrops goes back to the tram.  He takes the tram to the turn off to the bus station, and waits for the rain to let up.  Finally, in a light rain, he walks the last 200 m to the bus station.  One bus to Mostar has just pulled out, but Mike's ticket is for the next one, leaving in about 15 minutes.

 

All aboard.  By the time we are on the road, the rain has let up.  We stop at the Healthy Water Restaurant, and once again, Mike gets the 300 g of roast lamb.  Can't get enough of the good stuff.

 

We pull into Mostar bus station, and Mike walks the 100+ m to his previously reserved room.  Touts everywhere.  He unpacks, and close to 1700 goes out for the walk of the town.  The Nerevsta River runs north-south here.  East of the river is Bosnian-Muslim.  West of the river is Croatian-Catholic.  The bus station and Mike's lodging are on the west side.  Walk south along a street with lots of still bombed out buildings.  Pass the biggest tourist areas, including the area on both sides of the famous Mostar Bridge.  The rebuilding of this bridge in 2004 was the reopening of Mostar for tourist business, and they seem to have all returned.

 

Mike goes to the next bridge down, crosses over, and up to the famous bridge.  The destruction, while substantial, is less on the west side of the river.  There is of course the famous 9 story building hulk and other buildings, but by and large, things are going better on this side.  Here, about 1900, lo and behold, he meets Carol, whose group is a few meters away in another hotel.  Over to say hi to the group again briefly, and then goodby for this trip.  Mike goes back to the tourist restaurant where the two female greeters are forced to dress in the local getup and hand out menus.  But the goulash plate is really tasty, and the beer satisfies. 

 

Sun sets after 2030, and it is back to the room to sleep.

 

Carol

Sightseeing day. Starts off with Mostar walk. Adria is a very competant local guide. She complains that the concrete used between the refurbished cobblestones is difficult for pedestrians, easy for vehicles. Walk the bridge. The walkway is marble, with raised cross sections. Given the rise in the center, better to walk along the sidewalls. Interesting discussion of childraising, vaccination, etc with guide. View the old mosque, then on to a historic house a la turka. The last owners, childless, willed it and the historic furnishings to the town. Two stories filled with neat stuff.

Time for a visit to a Slow Food educational center that is a store and wine cellar. Herzegovina has unique foodways that are being preserved. A lavish spread has been set up for us: ajvar, bread, and Livano cheese. This is the unique "cheese in a bag" aged in a sheep(?) stomach for 6 months. This cheese is already  recognized as a unique cultural heritage. We drink a sage blossom elir (non alchoholic) with medicinal properties, then some grappa (smooth firewater). Then many kinds of halvah and some red wine. Others shop on the street afterward.

On to Pocitelj, a fortress town on UNESCO "tentative list" Much affected by bombing, but buildings like the mosque have been refurbished. Great hillside fortress. We are caught up in heavy rain, but soldier on.

The dervish tekke at Blagaj is our next stop. Still raining, we opt for lunch first. Space made for us at a crowded fish restaurant on the river. Trout the specialty. Our table seats 4, we get 4 platters with 5 fish each. Do the math. Some grilled fish also have a lemon and pumpkinseed cream sauce. Yummy sides of rice and chard. Of course, a salad platter too.

Rain stops during lunch. Dazzling blue sky. The tekke is set next to a sreeam emerging from a grotto under a sheer cliff., Swifts and swallows nest in grottoes. Many wild pomegranate trees (unique regional subspecies). Enchanting.

It is a Muslim contemplative site, but everything Carol learned in Iran about Zoroastrianism glaringly obvious in what we see before us. We must remove shoes, cover hair and shoulders. Not enough full length shirt wraps for all us girls (OK for our tour guide, a contemplative and local guy with excellent English). Beautiful rugs with vegetal symbolism. Carol asks lots of questions. This is syncretism, a mash up of the old religion and Islam, IMHO.

Back to Mostar. Free time to wander. Drop in at the war photo exhibit, then Carol sets off to view some of the less touristed areas. In search of the synagogue site. Finally, after lots of map reading and enquiries, find the marker denoting where it was, and might again be someday. Then another batch of wash set out under sun.

Where are my shopping genes? Even walking out with friends and scouring shops, nothing tempts. We do stop at a place where a master embroderer has created word pictures of Islamic verse: glorious, large, pricey.

Comes the rain (and Mike).

Just munchies in place of dinner. Bag the wet wash in my pack. To bed.

29 Jun 2014 Sarajevo & Srebrenica (Mike)/to Mostar (Carol)

29 Jun 2014 Sarajevo & Srebrenica (Mike)/to Mostar (Carol)
Mike

Today was to be a long day trip to Srebrenica for Mike.  From the Central Bus Station, there is a 7:15 am bus to Srebrenica and a 4:30 pm return.  Yesterday he had bought that round trip.

Up very early, walk the few hundred meters to the Bascanica tram stop, where there are others waiting.  There are two trams from here.  The basic tram goes all the way to Ilidza, which we took two days ago on the way to the Tunnel Museum.  There is another tram which pulls into the train/bus station area, just after leaving the downtown area.  That second tram is what Mike needs.

Breakfast is a quick pastry and coffee from an open shop.  But instead of waiting at the tram stop for a tram that may not be coming, Mike starts walking, at least to the next tram stop.  It is 6:00 am and the sky is clear.  The sun is shining.  Everything is beautiful ... and no tram seems to be coming.  So, walk to the next tram stop, . . . and the next.  The train station is 6 tram stops.  After the fourth tram stop, Mike sees a tram waiting to go the station, so he hops on for the two remaining stops.  On the walk, there is a sign: "Ramazanserif Mubarek Olsun," which probably means Have a Blessed Ramadan.  It probably also means that today (29 Jun) is the first day of Ramadan.

Mike is at the bus station at 6:45 am.  There he meets the other Swedish couple, who were on our Dubrovnik-Sarajevo bus.  They are going off to Mostar today. 

There are both regional and international buses coming in and leaving.  At 7:08 am, a bus pulls in with the sign "Srebrenica-Sarajevo: Bratunac, Milici, Vlasenica, Kladanj, Olovo."  We are obviously doing the trip in reverse, and it is obviously Mike's bus, so on he goes.  There are maybe 8 folks on this 45 passenger bus, so he grabs the front seat. No one complains.  We go north towards Olovo in the hills, picking up a few, dropping off a few.  We make it to Kladanj at 8:50 am.  It is a sleepy town with not much happening, but we need a smoke stop.  Off to the side, someone is grilling a big batch of whole chickens.  By noon, there is going to be some good eating.

At 9:30 am we pull into Vlasenica.  The further we go, the more Cyrillic (Serb), and the less Roman (Bosnian, Croat) lettering.  The signs around here are mostly in Cyrillic, with some Roman lettering here and there.  This is one country, but there is a very uneasy peace between the parties.  As we go eastward (towards Serbia) it is getting a whole lot more Serbian in tone. At 9:50 am we are at Milici.  This is a bus station with 10 gates, but probably only 20 buses a day.  Finally, we are in Srebrenica.  It is 10:40 am.  It is not clear where the bus station is, but this looks like the town center, so I get off.  There are two new mosque minarets here.  There is also a restaurant.  Though 20 years ago, this area was a Muslim region surrounded by Serbs, today the Serbs dominate.  We are near the Drina River, which separates Bosnia from Serbia proper.  Everything is in Cyrillic, nothing in Roman letters.  The post office box says "Poste Srpske," with not a hint that we are still in Bosnia.

Because Mike had almost no breakfast, he orders a bowl of chicken soup, a bowl of goulash, and a coffee.  It comes to less than 10 KM ($7) and is very tasty.

A little history is in order.  Before 1992, this corner of Bosnia was heavily Muslim-Bosniak.  When civil war broke out, the UN declared Srebrenica a "safe haven," and the mostly Muslim city of 10,000 swelled to 50,000 folks.  The Serbs threatened the small "safe haven" territory, and the small Dutch contingent of the UNPROFOR was supposed to protect the area.  Finally, on 11 July 1995, the Serbs overwhelmed the Dutch, the Serbs controlled the town, and the local population fled into the hills.  The Dutch were stationed at Potocari, a small community about 4 km north of Srebrenica, and about 4 km south of the town of Bratunac.  There tens of thousands of Muslim refugees streamed, and the Dutch couldn't protect them.  The net result was the massacre, over the next week or so, of close to ten thousand Muslim men and boys.

By October the parties were negotiating in Dayton, Ohio, and the Dayton Accords of Dec 1995 "resolved" these issues.  The resolution involved splitting Bosnia into 10 cantons, each of which would be dominated by one of the three competing regional groups (Boshiak, Serb, Croat).  This framework remains til today.

Not long after the accords, professionals and locals started digging up mass graves and identifying bodies.  By 2003 a cemetery was built in Potocari and dedicated.  As of today there are 8372 graves and a stark memorial.

Mike finished the meal fairly quickly, decided that there was little of tourist interest in Srebrenica, and asked (in terrible Serbian), "Is there a taxi?"  For that matter he may have asked it in Russian, or in no discernible language.  Anyway, the question came across as "Taxi?"  At which time, a gentleman got up from his coffee, went to his private car. Guess I had a taxi.  We agreed on 5 KM ($3.50).  Who knows if it was a fair price?  Off we went, back up the road toward Bratunac.

He left Mike off at the memorial.  There is a pavilion, surrounded on three sides by a circular, alphabetically arranged list of the deceased.  All of this is surrounded by 8372 nearly identical gravestones.  I have not been to other similar memorials (Vietnam War, 9/11, e.g.) but this one certainly rates as among the most moving memorials in existence.

I took in the memorial for about a half hour.  It was not yet noon, and I had more than 4 1/2 hours to spend here.  So I took a leisurely walk along the road into Bratunac.  About 40 minutes later, I was in Bratunac, at the bus station.  I had 4 hours to spare.  I took a short walk into the town center, bought a soda, went back, sat down in the adjoining cafeteria and had a beer, and mostly vegged out.

Srebrenica/Potocari is a shouldn't miss place, but boy is it a nuisance getting to and from.  As I sat there with nothing to do but wait, I started contemplating trips in an alternate universe.  We could have taken a direct bus from Belgrade to Sarajevo, but . . .

There are 3 buses a day from Belgrade to Bratunac.  You get to Bratunac, walk or take a taxi, or some local bus to Srebrenica and Potocari, see Srebrenica itself and see the memorial cemetery at Potocari, get back to Bratunac, and then take one of three buses to Sarajevo.  As I sat there I noted that it didn't seem to be possible to buy Bosnian KMs in this town, and contemplated actually buying a ticket on a Bosnian bus using only Serbian money.  It is probably realistic.  At 2:30 pm, a bus was going back to Sarajevo, along an entirely different route (Visegrad, Pale).  It was going to end up at the Dobrinja bus station 10 km west of downtown not far from Ilidza and the airport.  But its route felt much more Serbian.

Any way, after an uneventful trip, we were back in Sarajevo after 8 pm.  I took the tram into town, got off a little too soon, but finally made my way to the Sarajevska Pivinca, where Carol had eaten the night before.  A delicious plate of sausage, fries, and a large beer met my needs, and I walked back to go to bed.

Carol

Hotel transfer day for the group. With packing + breakfast + luggage, we do not leave Sarajevo until 9:15. When we get to the trailhead at 11:55, it is already hot. Since yesterday midmorning, Carol has been experiencing some Montezuma (Tito? UNESCO?) revenge. It has struck full force today. It is already quite warm when we start hiking the Diva Grabovica Valley. Here are those scary tall crags we viewed on the bus from Dubrovnik to Sarajevo.

Long story short: Carol ready to call it quits 1/3 up of the way up at a fine natural spring. It's quite enjoyable watching the dragonflies and an unusual butterfly. Our leader Ann summons our driver, who walks Carol back down to the van. Ann has brought along an interesting book, "A Short History of Bosnia." Great read! Eventually the rest of the crew comes back, totally bushed. Carol feels ashamed and defeated, but it was the right choice for today.

Back down the bumpy road into town. We settle in to a nice place in Mostar, "Motel Demadino." Our room has a kitchenette with a deep sink and a huge private patio perfect for drying clothes. Rub a dub dub time.

Lovely dinner overlooking the river and a perfect view of the famous REFURBISHED Old Bridge. Honestly, it's not what Carol imagined. It does not have the delicacy of Venetian bridges; instead, it is a sturdy ribbed stone structure that served to unite the town - until it was blown to smithereens. A nearby museum runs a loop film about its destruction and rebirth.

What a dinner: huge platters of salad and all kinds of grilled meat, including chicken and grilled liver. Another platter of stuffed veggies (onion, pepper, tomatoes). Instead of grape leaves, the sarmele use either chard or kale.

A little wandering after dinner, then time for bed.

28 Jun 2014 Sarajevo/hills around Sarajevo

28 Jun 2014 Sarajevo/hills around Sarajevo
Mike
Up early.  Beautiful, clear day.  Hardly a cloud in the sky.  Wonderful views of the hills around Sarajevo.  I get to eat breakfast at the Kandil, so a little after 7 a.m. I walk to the hostel.  I'd planned to meet up with Carol and the rest of the tour, but when I arrive they are almost through with breakfast.  Anyway, a freshly made omelet, great coffee, pastries, and fresh fruit make this one good meal.
After breakfast it is time for me to go off to see the Jewish Cemetery.  The map suggests that the 59 bus, leaving from Austrija Trg, takes me there.  But no 59 buses seem to be leaving - perhaps the buses have been rerouted because of all the road closures stemming from the ceremonies.
So off I hoof, walking up the hills to the cemetery.  Gently uphill on small roads through residential areas.  Finally, maybe 40 minutes and 3 km later, I am above the Jewish cemetery.  I look to the north to the Holiday Inn.  You can see pieces of exposed roadway across the river.  The Jewish cemetery was one of the sniper spots for the Serbs: sitting here, picking off folks who wanted to cross the roads in this part of town, maybe 3 km west of the old downtown.
[When we get home, we e-mail an old friend who was a cameraman for CNN in the 1990s.  Had he been to Sarajevo during the siege? we ask.  Yes, 6 times, and running across Sniper's Alley was really scary.  Nothing like it.]
Landscaping repairs have been done. The Jewish cemetery is in pretty good shape; however, the oldest stones at the top of the cemetery are in bad shape, and some are just plain gone.  I walk down through the rows, into the sections of newer graves.  Toward the bottom middle of the cemetery is a large Holocaust memorial.
It is now 10:45 am.  I believe that the assassination will be commemorated at noon (although maybe it was 11 am...).  This timeframe gives me about an hour to walk back into town.  For a little bit of that, I walk along with a Japanese fellow who is in Serbia studying the Serbo-Croatian language.  Who knew?
Up in the hills and down on the streets, there are markers everywhere:  So-and-So died here on such a date in 1993 or 1994.  There are also 'roses' (i.e., markers for bloodshed) painted on the pavement.  I didn't encounter any, but they are around, although fading.
On the way into town, I stop at the bus office, and buy a round trip to Srebrenica for tomorrow (29 Jun) and a one-way ticket to Mostar for Monday (30 Jun). 
Finally, at 11:45 am, I arrive at the car (the replica of the car in which the Archduke and his wife were shot) and wait.  There is a dressed-up gentleman in the car, and folks are taking turns getting into the backseat of the car and having their pictures taken.  No big ceremony - nothing special at exactly noon.
[When we get home, we read the New York Times for that day http://www.nytimes.com/2014/06/29/world/europe/revelry-in-sarajevo-where-shots-started-a-world-war.html?module=Search&mabReward=relbias%3Ar%2C%7B%222%22%3A%22RI%3A17%22%7D The reporter, John F. Burns, described the ceremonies in more detail. Apparently, 70 miles away, in Visegrad, Serbs were CELEBRATING, reenacting the assassination and glorifying Princip, the assassin.]
The national library sits near the commemoration spot. The old building was firebombed on 25-26 Aug 1992, destroying 2 million books. What's past is surely prologue.
I spent a good deal of time on the computer at Kandil, posting two days worth of the blog.
At 3:30 pm, I got out and wandered around. I found a melon, bought it, and I brought it back to Kandil.
At 6 pm I was across the river from the concert hall where the Vienna Symphony was performing its commemoration concert.  There was an outdoor screen, and a good bit of outdoor seating.  I got to stand on the perimeter of the crowd. Encountered one of the Swedish couples who had been on the Dubrovnik-Sarajevo bus with Carol and me.
Also standing next to me was a gentleman, perhaps 35-40 years old, next to his girlfriend.  He told me that in 1993 he had discovered talents as a speed skater. He managed to get out to the Netherlands, thereby escaping for the remainder of the siege.  He now dedicated his life toward peace.  His girlfriend, he said, had been 12 in 1992 when the Chetniks came to the house looking for her older teenage brother, who (fortunately) was not there.  The Chetniks had separated the three of them (father, mother, and daughter) into separate rooms and questioned them separately.  Somehow they chose the right answers, because they all survived.
The previous days and weeks of the trip were all about delicious food and fresh fruit and vegetables and wonderful buildings. But for me, Bosnia and Sarajevo seemed to be all about DEATH.

Carol

Mike joined the Adventures in Good Company crew for the bountiful breakfast.

 

Our destination is Lukomir, the highest inhabited traditional village in Bosnia. We pass the old steam train station, the Jewish cemetery, and the site of the Olympic ski jump venue (which was sniper territory and had also been also mined). Interesting fact: the Olympic Village was in part turned over to those who worked on its construction and put down money over time. The parents of our Bosnian hiking guide, Leyla, live there. They workers received certificates entitling them to complete purchase of the fully-equipped apartments at a future date (contrast that scenario with the Atlanta Olympic Village, which was designed to house students). 

Along the way, we eventually leave the main road. We climb through forests on a bumpy gravel road to reach the starting point of our hike. Other hikers are at the same trailhead as us. The trail rises in alpine meadows. There are red and white painted stones for markers (Leyla says that they were placed by Austrians who used their national colors). Lots of flowers. Blue skies. Walking through tall grasses with two poles is a new experience for Carol; it takes some time to get the proper rhythm.

About 40 minutes in we pass a natural spring and refill our bottles, canteens and water bladders (the water is pure). The trail is rocky and/or muddy in places. A few stumbles, but a steady uphill. We encounter a few other hikers, including a British group carrying a number of their kids as they walk.

As we walk, we have seen isolated Islamic tombstones. These date from the 13th to 15th centuries. This remote mountainous area, with flocks of sheep within stone-walled meadows, has supported its inhabitants for a long long time.

At last we reach Lukomir. A hodgepodge of stone and sheet-metal roofed structures, it supports mostly older residents (who have either of 2 surnames). A real feast is brought out for our lunch: huge round pans of fresh baked cheese and potato spiral pastries, pitchers of fresh yogurt to drink, and coffee brewed in a copper pot (which holds enough for around 20 servings). As we eat, we watch an old man carve wooden spoons. Several older women appear, carrying bags of knitted socks with traditional patterns. Some hikers try them on, then purchase.

After a walk through the village, back into the waiting van. We glimpse a café serving outside visitors as we depart (what next - a Starbucks?). The return ride seems longer and more jouncey-bouncey.

 

Mike is waiting with a melon at the pension <smile>.

 

After a much-needed shower and some lingerie washing for Carol, it's time for dinner. We walk several blocks to Sarajevska Pivnica, a large old brewery that is the home of Sarajevska Piva (beer). Several kinds of house-made brews, both filtered and unfiltered, are produced here. People at our table ordered all kinds of dishes. Portions large and tasty, but service was slow (the house was packed with assassination tourists and locals watching World Cup). Much interesting conversation.

 

Tonight, dinner was provided as promised, but we had to pay for our drinks. Armed with money exchanged upon entering Bosnia, Carol had the exact 3 coins that covered the cost of her beer. Easy peasy. Everyone else had large bills. Some ended up pulling out American credit cards and charging the relatively trivial amounts when the waiter couldn't come up with sufficient change. 

 

27 Jun 2014 Sarajevo

27 Jun 2014 Sarajevo
We woke up, packed and got an early start, walking into the city. Yesterday, the desk clerk at Kandil had told us about services to be found in town.  We needed a laundry, and inquired as we went. 
At 8 am, Sarajevo was cool and beautiful, and relatively free of tourists.  We crossed the river to the north, passed by the Gazi Husrev-Begova Biblioteka, a library associated with the large central 16th century mosque. The Biblioteka was a stylish building of recent construction - as were many structures that were probably inaugurated after the troubles and destruction of the '90. This library building was funded in part by the State of Qatar. 
On the advice of helpful passers-by (one who took out his cell phone to call his sister), we headed first one way, then someone lead us in another direction. Streets climbed sharply uphill from the central area nearest the river. Then past the market, not yet assembled for the day.  Finally, we gave up on finding a place that would launder our clothes, not dry clean them, and went back to the apartment. 
We picked up our backpacks and walked with bags over to the Kandil.  There Mike paid for 3 days of lodging.  Carol's backpack went to her room for the night.  A car came and carried us, Mike's backpack, and the laundry, to his new digs, the former Swedish Embassy, which was now being renovated room by room as a hotel.  It was not completely a hotel yet, just an annex of completed (and somewhat renovated) rooms, with a small entry foyer.
The staff located a key and let us in. It looked good.  The maid there was summoned and we negotiated for her to wash and dry our large bag of laundry for 12 euros, to be ready by 6 pm this evening. Several problems solved.
It was now 10 am, and we had neither backpacks nor laundry to worry about.  As we walked the short distance down to the Bascarcija, the old city market place, we passed a coffee shop by the fountain with signs for salep.  We hadn't drunk salep since 2006 in Konya, Turkey (other than the stuff we made at home from powder), and we had to try this. This little shop was crammed with close, small, low tables and older men loudly greeting and hunkering down with their buddies - not touristy in the midst of Tourist-stan. We ordered two salep drinks and a coffee.  They came hot, and we slowly drank them down.  Delicious and SWEET, not exactly as we remembered, but quite good. [Note: On the first day of her Sarajevo tour, the city guide told Carol that Bosnian salep is often made without milk.] Out in the square there was a busy pastry shop. We bought a couple of bureks (they come in sheets of dough-wrapped meat, cheese, spinach, etc.)  We purchased a cheese and a meat.
Hunger vanquished, it was time for some sightseeing.  First on the agenda was the Tunel Museum.  To get there, you take the 3 tram all the way across town to the west (11 km or so) to the town of Ilidza.  There you land at a commercial junction with a bunch of buses.  Just find the 32 bus, and take it "to the last stop," according to Lonely Planet, get out and walk.  Unfortunately, there is no "last stop," because the bus runs a loop, but if you say "Tunel," everyone knows where to let you off.  The walk is almost a km, through a fairly modern suburban street, whose buildings still bear marks of having been shot at extensively.  Finally, a sign, a house, and a place to pay to enter.  It is now about 11:30 am.
A little bit of history.  When Bosnia separated from what was once Yugoslavia in 1991, the dominant Serbs, who had lost control of the regions that became Slovenia, Croatia, and Macedonia, said 'no more!', and began what became a brutal 3+ year civil war. Sarajevo, which was a nicely integrated multi-ethnic enclave, and the regional capitol, was the big prize.  Serbian forces, called Chetniks by the Bosniaks, surrounded Sarajevo on 3 1/2 sides, controlling the hills above the city, and for several miles, controlling the city itself down to the river on the south side.  They did not, however, control the airport, which was controlled by UN forces.  Thus, the airport became the only possible gateway to the besieged city.  If you couldn't get in and out by air, the only way in and out was to run across the runway in the middle of the night, and eluding the UN troops all the while.
This was the state of affairs all through 1992, exceedingly unacceptable for the besieged Bosniaks.  In January 1993 they undertook to build a 800 meter tunnel under the runway, at a local house.  Four months later, the tunnel was operational.  It was 160 cm high (about 5 ft), and had rails (tracks) throughout its length, so things could be transported in carts.  At either end, three or four entrances were built and camouflaged  The Serbs figured out there was a tunnel somewhere within the first month, but the skill of the matter was that they could never determine sufficiently which was the entrance and close down the tunnel. 
Inside the house are some exhibits and maps, with lots of guides (ranging from older and passionate to younger and full of facts) explaining everything. There is a reenactment movie to watch, and then you get to go into the tunnel itself, or the small part of it that is left. The movie shows people, goods, and animals going into and out of, and through, the tunnel.  Only about 25 m of the tunnel remains, but most adults (Carol excepted) have to bend down to traverse it. The visitor still gets a good feel for what the conditions must have been like.  {Note: In the same way that we stumbled into the Mavi Mara crisis in Turkey, we visited this exhibit just as the Gaza conflict, with its revelations of multiple border tunnels, was heating up.}
It is now about 12:45 pm.  Back to the bus stop, where we wait.  We see another tourist, who took a different bus, and looks to have walked 3 km from his stop.  We give him better directions for his return trip. 
Back to Ilidza.  Back on the 3 tram, all the way to Bascarcija.  It is well past the time for lunch, and we locate Dveri, a restaurant listed in Lonely Planet and several other sources. 
A pretty place to kick back and relax as the temperature climbed. Lunch was eggplant with vegetables and a bowl of goulash, along with a beer.  Tchotckes and decorations all around - even in the restroom, with a wall emblazoned with a series of birds, 'tweeting' . . . 
As were finishing our meal, we fell into conversation with an American couple our age at the next table.  He was a corporate lawyer, and she was a lawyer who spent a number of years in Sarajevo helping to establish a modern judiciary and legal system.  They had come back for the WWI events.  Among other things they had requested tickets to the Vienna Philharmonic Concert tomorrow (Sat 28 Jun) commemorating the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife on 28 Jun 1914.  They had been plenty irritated when all they could get were tickets to the dress rehearsal on Fri 27 Jun, which they were going to immediately after this lunch.  Apparently 'their' tickets went to such folks as the President of Austria, government bureaucrats, and other hotshots.  Too bad, so sad.
We left the restaurant and became tourists. This being Sarajevo, the downtown is dominated by the Orthodox Cathedral (Serb), the Catholic Cathedral (Croat), and the Gazi Husrevbey Mosque (Bosniak).  We walked into the Orthodox Cathedral and looked around.  Beautiful.
Eventually we make it to the market "Markale", of which Lonely Planet writes, "The massacre of market-goers here in a 1995 Serb mortar attack proved a 'last straw,' triggering NATO air strikes against the forces besieging Sarajevo."  We find memorials for 5 Feb 1994 and 28 Aug 1995.  On sale here were handmade syrups, but not a lot of veggies or fruits that we absolutely needed.
Down the street are the offices of the regional bus, where we inquired about schedules and prices of buses to Mostar and to Srebrenica that Mike needed for planning his trips. 
It was now close to 4:30 pm.  We walked back to the Kandil via the exact spot of the assassination, where a replica car - supposedly the car in which the Duke and Duchess were riding - has been installed for tomorrow's celebrations. 
As we come to the river, a group of singers is practicing walking onto the bridge, and singing.  They don't quite have it yet, but their costumed presentation will be stirring when it finally comes together.
We are at the Kandil at 5 pm.  Carol pockets 100 KM and 40 kuna, goes off to her room, and joins her Balkan adventure. 
Mike goes back to his hotel. There he finds the folks doing the laundry, spends a few minutes convincing them that 12 euros is 23.5 KM, not 25 KM, and collects the clean and folded wash.  Carol's clothes go back into the bag and Mike starts walking back to the Kandil.  At the Kandil, Carol is already on her quick tour of Sarajevo, so Mike drops off the clothes. 
It is now 6:30 pm. Over to the Ashkenazi Synagogue in time for Friday night services.  There is an ample minyan  It turns out that the community has compromised.  After WWII, there was not much of a Jewish community left, so an agreement was struck:  The old Sefardi synagogue will eventually be renovated into a museum. The newer Ashkenazi synagogue will be the one to be used for services, and also house the Jewish Community Center. However, the services at the Ashkenazi synagogue will follow Sefardi nusach.  Anyway, the short 30 minute service starts just after 7 pm. 
Mike is seated next to an Israeli whose mother still lives in Sarajevo.  He is surprised that the service is Sefardi, and believes that his mother will be also surprised.
After services there is a Kiddush and some food is served.  It now appears that there are at most 8 true locals; without visitors, there would be no minyan.  This is the way it is throughout much of Europe, but Mike is surprised to discover only the remains of a community here.
About 9 pm it is time to leave.  Back to the hotel, with a stop for a delicious dessert pastry in the Bascarcija.
The room is clean, but for the first time there is no TV (we have had no working TV before during this trip several occasions).

Carol

The participants in Exploring the Balkans look to be mostly the same age as Carol, with one mother/daughter pair. Many have done other trips with Adventures in Good Company, and all are interesting and well traveled.

Out for a walking tour with a knowledgeable and mordant guide (guess you have to have a strong streak of humor to make it through the past few Sarajevo decades). A very funny recap of the Great Assassination, with the tale of the bumbling killer. As part of the remaking of damaged Old Sarajevo the streets have been repaved to reflect the traditional home districts of former inhabitants, with distinctive pavement indicating Serb, Croat and Bosniak neighborhood as well as the public spaces where all interacted. A lovely tribute to the way things could be. We visit the Gazi Husrev-Begova mosque and the Han. Next to the mosque are traditional bathing facilities (FREE PUBLIC WC, y'all!) and a bakery that even to this day feeds both paying customers and the indigent poor. Then on to dinner at a traditional restaurant.

26 Jun 2014 to Sarajevo

26 Jun 2014 to Sarajevo
Our bus to Sarajevo leaves at 8 am.  For the first time when leaving a country on this trip, it is not necessary to spend down all of our money. Both of us will be coming back to Dubrovnik later in our respective trips.
We visit the pastry shop, and eat our breakfast on picnic benches in a small park in the road divider.  The birds, it seems, have been awaiting our arrival. The farmers market at the square is just opening. We take a last look, then off the short distance to the bus terminal.
Eventually the bus to Sarajevo pulls in, and it fills.  It costs 10 kuna each ($1.90) to put our bags in the compartment under the bus.  Luckily, we still have some Croatian money.
We are finally off, on time.  The bus hugs the Croatian coast northward for about 1 1/2 hours.  Finally, we are at the Bosnian border.  The Croatian police come aboard and stamp all of our passports.  We are in Bosnia in the city of Naum, Bosnia's Adriatic toehold.  About 8 km later, what is this?  Another border, and we are crossing back into Croatia.  More police.  More collection of passports.  We wait about 20 minutes.  The passports are finally distributed and we are off, still traveling along the Adriatic.
About 45 minutes later we are somewhat inland, at the Bosnian border.  Again police: this time, both Croatian and Bosnian.  What a nuisance it must be to have to do this regularly.
Finally, we are truly in Bosnia, where Mike will end his trip and Carol will start her hiking adventure.  We pick up the Neretva River and follow it for miles and miles.  This is a beautiful drive.  It is 11:45 am when we come into Mostar.  We cross the Neretva and stop at the bus station for 10 minutes. 
For the first time we see a poster for Ramazan, the month of fasting in Islam.  There are very few Muslims in Romania, Serbia, or Croatia. The new moon is today, which means that Ramazan will begin tomorrow, Saturday (28 Jun) or Sunday (29 Jun), whenever there is an official sighting of the crescent moon.  This is our first indicator that we are among Muslims. Bosnia is split (that verb is deliberate) among Muslims (Bosniaks), Roman Catholics (Croats), and Orthodox Catholics (Serbians).
Our break over, we get back on the bus for the last bit of bus travel into Sarajevo.  An hour along, the bus stops at a restaurant on the cliffs of the Neretva.  This restaurant, Zdrava Voda, seems to be the stop for all buses (and hungry drivers) along this road, and for many cars as well.  Zdrava Voda means "healthy water." We are encouraged by other passengers to dump out the old water in our bottles, and fill them with this "healthy" water.  And so we do.  Cool, wet, refreshing. A nice view - and restrooms to boot.
Outside the restaurant, the running water from the spring is also turning a number of spits over a fire.  On the spits are lambs, 8 - 10 of them.  The lamb is calling out to us, particularly Mike.  At Zdrava Voda, a 300 g (11 oz) portion of roast lamb costs 11.5 KM (Bosnian money). Mike has no KM, but he pulls out a 10 euro note, and says "one portion - packet."  The waiter writes that 11.5 KM = 6 euro, so after about 5 minutes, we have 300 g of roast lamb, to go, plus some bread, plus 8 KM.
The bus took only a 20 minute break here, so we are back on the bus.  Roast lamb is too fatty and messy to eat on a bus, so we pack it away, but boy does it smell good!
We pull into the central Sarajevo bus terminal (the other one is in the western suburbs) about 3 pm.  We retrieve our luggage (no fees to get it off the bus, thank god).  On our second credit card attempt, we successfully withdraw 400 KM (1 KM [convertible mark] is apx 70 cents US) and resolve to get on the internet to make the first card work again (maybe because we hadn't told the issuer that we were going to be in Eastern Europe = our bad).
We have reserved an apartment for 30 euros.  We have a pretty good idea about where it is, but no good idea of how to get there.  So a taxi it is.  We give the driver the address, and he asks the other drivers where it is.  It turns out that this apartment building is not on a drivable street, but fronts on a wide set of stairs on a hill.  Thankfully, the driver takes us to the top of the stairs. We walk about 10  meters downhill to the apartment. 
A gentleman is awaiting us at the apartment (what a relief!).  Yaaay, Booking.com. He lets us in, takes our money, shows us how things work, gives us a phone number to call if there are any problems.  We ask if the apartment is available for the next night, and he says: no.  Our recently-learned trick of only booking for one night (so the proceeds of the following days go directly to the lessor, who might also consider lowering our fee) has failed.
It turns out that in two days, Sarajevo is commemorating the 100th anniversary of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, which took place on 28 Jun 1914.  As we know from the history books, 6 weeks later the entirety of Europe was at war.  Because of this event, hotel rooms in Sarajevo are at a premium = mostly unavailable.
We settle in, scarf down the lamb (which is still pretty good, although it has cooled off). We then go out. 
We have settled into a primo location, albeit San Francisco hilly. At the bottom of our little street is the Ashkenazi Synagogue and the Jewish community center, both closed.  And, to the east a couple of blocks, is Austrijski Trg. AND, 20 m away sits Pension Kandil, where Carol will be starting her tour tomorrow. 
We walk to Kandil (nice place!), introduce ourselves, and inquire if they have any rooms for Mike.  No, they are fully booked. But they can hook Mike up with a not-yet completely booked pension: across the river, but nearby.  For 35 euros a night, there will be a room.  Mike agrees and we agree to show up tomorrow for Mike to get a ride to the pension and a key. Kandil will throw in breakfast for Mike while he is at the other pension.
Finally, we head out into town, looking first for internet and some food.  There are supposed to be both in the town center.  It is 4:45 pm. 
The guidebook shows us to be very near the old synagogue museum.  We find it and go in.  This is the renovated 16th century synagogue, which is of roughly equivalent date with the Dubrovnik synagogue. Inside is a guide.  He is a native.  He was here during the Sarajevo siege, but got our early in 1992.  By running across the runway?  No.  Jews had some organized flights, and they got out early.
We talk about the Sarajevo Jewish cemetery.  He described it as the largest Jewish cemetery (which we doubted because of our experience at the huge Iasi cemetery).  But perhaps it was the oldest...  Anyway, during the siege, the cemetery, which is on a close in hill on the south side of the river, was (mostly?) controlled by the Serbs.  Thus, the cemetery was full of snipers, who dug in and were shooting across what became Sniper's Alley.  He said that after the siege, when the local community regained control of the cemetery, it was badly eroded, and they had to do a lot of landscaping work to restore it.  At various times, the records of who was buried there had been destroyed, so much is not known about who is buried there and where.  As to synagogues, there is only one still in operation: the Ashkenazi Synagogue on the south side, right near our apartment.  They have Friday night services at 7 pm. Mike resolves to attend.
We must have spent more time than we realized; 6 pm approached, and the museum was closing.  We were hungry and wanted an internet place.  Of course, it was now starting to rain. 
We walked few 100 meters, and we were on the main tourist street.  And there we spotted a cevabdzinica mentioned in one of Carol's print-outs, where cebapcici (sausages) and pleskavici (patties) are served.  Throw in a beer and some fries and you have real basic local food, complete with a family and workingman atmosphere. Can't visit Bosnia or Serbia without a visit or two to a place like this.  Anyway, we order a large order of cebapcici and one pleskavici, with yogurt and onions - no fries.  Lots of pita bread.  Tasty and filling, with lots of grease to go around.
We walk back via the hotel where Carol will be tomorrow, and meet a few early arrivals for her tour.  Then back to the apartment, where we watch TV for a bit, and then to bed.

25 Jun 2014 Dubrovnik

25 Jun 2014 Dubrovnik
At our pension there are lemon and orange trees.  Apparently in this part of the Mediterranean/ Adriatic, it never freezes, so you can grow citrus.  Inland, on top of the nearby mountains, is another story.  There was a Winter Olympics at Sarajevo in 1984, and it was plenty cold and snowy on the mountains surrounding Sarajevo.
No breakfast at the pension, but there is a great pastry shop on the main street, Pope John Paul II Str.  We walk down to the bus station and get our bus tickets to Sarajevo for tomorrow morning at 8 am.  There is a small plaza by the alleyway near our pension. It contains several businesses, including a coffee shop populated by locals.  It has started to drizzle, and coffee seems to be a great idea.  By the time our coffee is finished, the rain has let up.  As Edna suggested, there is a small early morning farmers market. Items are expensive by our Romanian/ Serbian standards, but the fresh figs (4 kuna for a reasonably large ripe green fig), are tasty.  1 to go.  There also is an adjacent indoor fish market with some of today's haul still for sale.
Off we go on the city bus (we are using the day card today) to the old city.  The rain starts up again.  We walk up one of the cross sidewalks to the east.  Dubrovnik is rather set into a small cliff; to the east of the main street everything is UPHILL.  We ascend on the next north south street, which is apx 50 feet higher than the tourist main street and is next to the city walls. This is a more residential area, with hanging wash and resident cats. We walk along, looking down each cross sidewalk and out to the rest of the city. 
Eventually, we get to the east gate of the walled city. Just before we walk out toward a bus stop, a little stall offers a taste of local specialty, candied orange peel. Delicious, but at 39 kuna for a plastic bag holding just an ounce or two, not for us. 
Our immediate goal is to use this rainy interlude to see the city beyond the gates by bus.  Four buses later, we have seen some of the coast just to the south, the large bridge just to the north of the town, and some of the non-tourist parts of Dubrovnik across the bridge to the north. We are now back at the old city.
At 2 pm we are back at the old city, and the sky seems to be clearing a little.  It is time to splurge and walk the city wall that encircles Dubrovnik.  This tourist attraction now costs 100 kuna, or about $19, each.  Given the crowds, the ups and downs of the wall, and the normal stops for photo ops, you can expect to take 2 hours to do the whole walk. 
And so we are off.  The standard direction starts from the north gate, walking counter-clockwise.  The first thing you walk toward is the west wall, overlooking the Adriatic.  Then south, overlooking the small boats all tied up in the harbor.  Then east, overlooking the city, then north and descend off the wall. 
On the east wall we caught up with an English-language tour.  The tour guide was explaining how the siege of Dubrovnik, where the Serbs and Montenegrins shelled the city from the hills to the east that tower over the city, was the greatest atrocity of the breakup of Yugoslavia.  He said: look out at the old city.  Old roofs are brownish yellow, the color of tiles that are hundreds of years old.  New roofs, replaced since 1992, are orange brown.  Sure enough, almost every roof is new, with a few old roofs here and there.  The maps confirm that the areas not hit are mostly clustered along the west wall, overlooking the Adriatic, and the east and center of the town were badly hit. Fish in a barrel.
Stephen Colbert has defined the word "truthiness" as being 'the truth as one believes it to be.'  One would then state: "The truthiness of the matter is . . ." and then one could state anything one wanted, without regard for the truth of the matter.  Later in Mostar (in Bosnia), Mike picked up a summary of the breakup of Yugoslavia. It stated that 10 % of the walls in Dubrovnik were destroyed in the siege and shelling.  I suppose it can be simultaneously true that 75% of the roofs (tile) and 10% of the walls (stone) could be destroyed, but it is hard to imagine such an outcome. Asserting that the siege of Dubrovnik was "the greatest atrocity of the breakup of Yugoslavia" is a bit of Croatian truthiness. 
We saw and heard a whole lot of unresolved differences of fact as we traveled through Bosnia and the Dubrovnik section of Croatia.
As we progressed a little farther on the east wall, we stopped and talked for a while with a charming Korean couple who were also walking the wall.  We had seen very few Asian tourists throughout Romania, but here in Dubrovnik there were lots of Koreans, Chinese, Japanese, and others from all over southeast Asia.
We wandered around some of the streets we had not seen before, and then back to the pension.  We passed lot of fair-skinned tourists who had managed to get first-class sunburns. Others were clearly determined to get some beach time - rain be damned.
Dinner at Gabrielle again - this time spaghetti and another pasta dish.
After dinner, we go into the tourist hotel peninsula just to look around.  Finally, it is dark and time to go to bed.

24 Jun 2014 Beograd to Dubrovnik

24 Jun 2014 Beograd to Dubrovnik
We were packed and down for breakfast by a little after 7 am.  Another fantastic breakfast.
Checkout time was 11 am.  The plan was to gallivant around after breakfast, returning to checkout at 11 am.  Then, walk or take a bus one stop to the bus plaza to catch a 11:26 am 72 bus to the airport.  Arrive apx 12:15 am in time for our 13:35 flight to Dubrovnik.
So, out after breakfast to walk to the Jewish Cemetery.  Instead of walking north to the town center, or northeast to some of the neighborhoods nearby, we walked southeast 5 or 6 blocks, then northeast.  This took us through some different close-in neighborhoods.  They turned out to be a little newer than what we had seen, including some very nice art deco 5- and 6-story apartment buildings.  Then to the northeast, eventually coming out at Sveti Sava, "the world's biggest Orthodox church, a fact made entirely obvious when looking at the city skyline from a distance or standing under its dome.  The church is built on the site where the Turks apparently burnt relics of St. Sava.  Work on the church interior continues today." (Lonely Planet)  This is the church we had seen at the end of Terazija Boulevard a ways away two days ago.
It is now 8:45 am.  We could use a coffee, a snack, and a bathroom.  We are now walking northwest through neighborhoods.  We find our coffee-bathroom place.
A few blocks further on was a nice market, which commanded our attention for about 15 minutes.  We walked past a charming breakfast and lunch place which, according to the pictures on the wall, served chicken, pastries, and pork.
Across the street was a jewel of a baklava bakery.  Beautiful, but we weren't yet hungry.
Continuing down some small streets, we passed cars parked so tightly to the curb that they are half on the sidewalk (legal, according to painted markings) and are practically touching the property walls.
We came out onto a major intersection.  From here the walk is on a sidewalk on a busy boulevard.  We spotted an exchange bureau and changed a $10 bill.  This gave just a little more than we need to pay the hotel in cash (they would have taken a mix of cash and credit cards), with less than $3 left over.
Another km or so on, there was a big cemetery on the right - Christian.  Vendors were selling flowers, bunches of greens to place on the graves, and all sorts of cemetery memorabilia.
Across the street was a beautifully landscaped park with a memorial to the liberation of Beograd from the Nazis in November 1944 (by the Soviets, with the assistance of the Tito partisans [we think]).  Yugoslavia and Marshall Tito took their modern form not long thereafter. Anyway, really powerful high Soviet for-the-proletariat sculpture and friezes.
Right next door (i.e., further from town) is the Jewish cemetery.  It is in very good shape compared to some of the cemeteries we have seen in Romania.  It is also more recent, and reflects that at one time, there appears to be a good bit of wealth in the Jewish community of Beograd. Some cenotaphs would not be out of place in Buenos Aires. The cemetery also contains a Holocaust memorial, reflecting the damage done to the community from 1941 - 1945.  We spend about 20 minutes here snapping photos. 
It is now just past 10.  A 3 tram will take us from right in front back to the train station and our hotel.  The tram comes by after 5 or 8 minutes.   We use two bus tickets, leaving us with exactly 2 bus tickets.
All is now unfolding according to plan.  After paying the hotel bill and reserving some bills and coins for our foreign money collection, we have 240 dinar left.  We walk out with our packs (which seem to be getting heavier every day), catch a bus one stop (riding black, as they say), and are at the 72 bus stop.  Carol stays with the packs while Mike goes into the market to use up the last bits of money.  150 dinar ($1.75) gets us 8 - 10 oz of raspberries, and the walnut vendor sells us exactly 90 dinar worth of walnuts (about 4 oz).  We now have 0 dinars. 
Soon we are on the bus for the long ride through the suburbs to the Nikolai Tesla Airport.  We realize that we have not ascertained whether we are in terminal 1 or 2, but our worries are lessened when we approach and realize that terminals 1 and 2 are just one building.
We arrive in plenty of time. Farewell to Serbia.
The flight was uneventful, taking a little more than one hour.  We land a little after 3 pm, retrieve our luggage, walk out, purchase tickets on the airport bus (60 kuna for Mike's round trip, 35 kuna for Carol's one way) with the credit card  (5.4 kuna to the dollar). Once again we have 0 kuna.
The 20 km ride to Dubrovnik is beautiful, on a road hugging the Adriatic coast.  Palm trees, lush semi-tropical plants, spectacular views. We can get off either at the old city or the bus terminal, 3 km north.  We get off at the bus station, take out some money from the ATM, put on our bags and walk a few blocks to our pension, Rooms Edna.  It is located several structures in on a small passageway about 20 m in from the portside main road.  We are met by mom (Edna) and daughter, fed some tea, and make ourselves at home in our first-floor room.  For 43.2 euros per night (as much as we paid in Beograd), we get a king-size bed in a room just slightly larger than the bed.  The TV is doesn't work, and the bathroom is a shared room just next door.  Still, we are staying in a good budget location.
We are starting to come to terms with Dubrovnik, which a Swedish couple later told us was expensive even by Swedish standards.  Of course, everything is relative, and someone else said that Dubrovnik was cheap when compared to Nice or Monaco.  However, it is twice as expensive as Romania or Bosnia.
We have arrived hungry. There is a nice restaurant a few hundred meters toward the old city, Gabrielle.  We hop in for a lunch, and are impressed with the local patronage.  Then it is off we go, walking toward town.  We buy 8 bus cards, at 12 kuna ($2.50) each.  They would cost 15 kuna each on the bus.  Later we see a stall selling daily cards, at 30 kuna each, and buy two of them for the next day.  The result is that we will have 6 bus cards left over for when we come back to Dubrovnik at the end of our respective trips.
The walk to the old city follows a cliff along the Adriatic. The road passes by the old Jewish cemetery, which is tightly locked (we never figure out who has the key).  Eventually, we are at the old city.  This is tourist central.  There is a short bridge into the old walled city.  There is a public restroom just outside the walled city, but the price of admission is 5 kuna (95 cents!), easily the most expensive we have seen, and maybe even more expensive than public loos outside Covent Garden in London.  Carol finds a private place surrounded by bushes under the bridge, with hundreds of unsuspecting tourists walking above her.
The old walled city is really SMALL.  Marble underfoot and all around. The map shows 14 streets (really alley staircases climbing several stories to the ramparts) crossing the Stradun (main level walkway).  After about 5 minutes we realize that we have passed all of them, having gone 300 m (1000 ft) from one end of the city to the other.  We have also passed shops shops shops and restaurants restaurants restaurants, each with a multilingual tout or two in front. Most historic sites have entrance fees.
The map shows the synagogue, so we count the streets (really 4 ft wide passageways) as we walk back, and walk in a few meters, and there it is.  The building originally dates from 1580-1583.  It is now a museum.  Admission is 35 kn, or $6US.  Nowadays, there are not enough Jews in Dubrovnik to have a minyan, and the building is used as a synagogue only when a group comes in from Zagreb or from somewhere else for a special purpose.  There is a group with an English-speaking guide, who has traveled with them as they visit Jewish sites in several countries. With their permission, Mike stumbles through a kaddish for his mother, whose yahrzeit is coming up in 2 days. The chance of finding a minyan elsewhere in the following days is too small to pass up the opportunity.
The museum is nothing much special, and the synagogue is rather small (100 people would overwhelm it, it would seem), but it is really old and pretty in a pastel way.  Later we learn that there is an ongoing dispute over whether this building, or a synagogue in Sarajevo (which is now also a museum), is older.  They were both built about the same time. 
We wander around, absorbing the ambience.  A highly recommended restaurant inside the old city just doesn't appeal to us, so we go on.  Night falls, and we take a bus back toward the pension.  We stop at the restaurant where we had lunch, and get a dinner of sardines, mussels, fried zucchini and a beer.  The gentleman at the next table got an octopus salad, so we order that also.  The total comes to close to $50, but we are in Dubrovnik, and this is cheap compared to the same food inside the old city. This was a feast of truly local seafood prepared in a regional manner.
We are back at the pension early. No TV to watch, so to sleep.  Rooms Edna has managed to rent at least one other room, so we will have to share the bathroom, after all.

23 Jun 2014 Beograd & Zemun

23 Jun 2014 Beograd & Zemun
Breakfast was included at our hotel.  And what a breakfast it was:  hard boiled eggs, fried eggs with bright orange yolks,  all sorts of meats, fruit, yogurt, cereal, bread and butter, fruit juices, coffee, cooked vegetables, etc.
We asked to stay another night in the same room.  Not possible.  The front desk staff said that they might be able to find another room, but they wouldn't know until closer to 11 am, checkout time.  The computer set aside for guests: still not working.
We had one errand for today before going to the picturesque nearby town of Zemun, and that was washing our clothes - this was going to be pretty much the last wash until we split up on 27 Jun. However, we were going to have to stay close to the hotel until where we were going to stay tonight was settled.  So we packed up, and left everything in the room until later, except for a large bag of wash.  The laundry was a long block away, sort of hidden in a large commercial/office building.  Eventually we found it, agreed on a price (800 dinar or $9.50) and a pickup time (after 5 pm).  Then, having nothing much better to do, we walked back to the market. We were determined to figure out when to catch our 72 bus to the airport tomorrow. 
Along the way, we saw some political graffiti.  A red 1389, struck out and replaced by a red star and a red hammer and sickle.  We asked later, and it was explained:  "1389" is the symbol for the Serbian Nationalists.  From the internet:

"The Serbian National Movement 1389, one of a plethora of far-right groups in the country, has joined the race for parliamentary seats in the forthcoming elections to say 'No' to the EU.

"Misa Vacic, of the far-right 1389 movement in Serbia, said that the group will take part in early parliamentary elections in Serbia due on March 16. "Our aim is to bring patriotic values to the people," Vacic said.

"According to him, these patriotic values include saying "No" to the EU and NATO membership, gay rights and corruption and "Yes" to the re-introduction of compulsory military service."
On the other hand, the symbol of a red star above a red hammer and sickle represents NKJP:
"The New Communist Party of Yugoslavia (Serbian: Нова комунистичка партија Југославије, Nova Komunistička Partija Jugoslavije) (NKPJ) is a Marxist-Leninist party in Serbia registered as a citizens group.^"
NOTE: We don't think either party did very well.  But this symbolism is all over the country.
When we get back to the hotel, they tell us that they have found us another room, even bigger than the first.  After all, we are booking.com customers and they want to keep us happy.  Fine with us.  We move our stuff into a HUMONGOUS triple, and then are off to be tourists.
Beograd sits at the SE intersection of the Sava and the Danube Rivers.  It was at one time the northernmost outpost of the Ottoman Empire.  Across the Sava River to the west was the city of Zemun.  It was at one time the southernmost outpost of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.  The Sava was the boundary.
That was then.  Now you just take the 83 bus from just outside our hotel.  Which we did.
But we didn't get off in time.  So we end up at the end of the line.  The driver allowed us to ride back to the old town without payment of another fare.  Two cigarettes (by the driver) later, we were off, and back into the old town.  It is a small place, this old town.  But it has cobblestones, some very old churches, and a famous millennium tower.         
Now they are a simple walk in from the main road, and up a small steep hill. A pretty cemetery at the top.  You see the 9th c. Gardos fortress, and the millennium tower, built in 1896.  The views of the Danube and of both old cities are great.
Down a long series of steps bordered by grapevines and flowers, and out to the walk along the river.  Restaurants and coffee houses everywhere.  We stopped at Stari Carinarnica (address Key Oslobodenja 31), a restaurant we had written down during our "In Your Pocket" research in Timisoara.  Lunch was a lentil soup, a fish soup, and a fish goulash (a bowl of noodles/a bowl of goulash - mix and eat).  The waiter, following tradition, gave us bibs.  Delicious and well worth seeking out.  We ate in an outdoor portico.  Behind was the original 400 year old inn which had been, and was continuing to be, renovated.
After lunch, as you turn the corner, there is a small market.  Fruits and vegetables, of course.  And then books.  One seller had Harry Potter books in Serbian, so we purchased the 4th book for our son-in-law, who collects Harry Potter in all sorts of languages.  (We had picked up Harry Potter 4 in Romanian at the Brasov train station.)  It was 300 dinar used ($3.50).  Later we would see a new Serbian Harry Potter for close to $30.
An 84 bus took us to the bus terminal.  We went across the street and up a walkway into the main square.  We started asking for internet, and we were pointed to a department store building, with internet on the 3rd (top) floor in a classy bookstore  We put in a little over an hour.
It was now 3 pm.  Time for some ice cream, and then for a walk through the Citadel (how could you visit Beograd without walking through the citadel?).  Up the main tourist walkway to a fancy ice cream shop next to the restaurant we ate at the day before.  The scoops were expensive, but it was worth it.
The citadel was not up a hill, unlike most citadels.  The whole city is on the river bluff over the Danube and Sava Rivers.  At one time the citadel had complete walls and gates and moats.  Now the walls are there, but no gates.  It is more like a large city park, with walkways among the walls.  As we leave to the south, we actually go through a gate, and soon we are back into the city itself.  We take a different walk back to the hotel via the laundry. Our large bag of wash is ready, dry and folded.
For dinner we walk out to Sapska Kafana, a well-regarded traditional restaurant.  We walk through a park, past a consulate or two, through some nice typical neighborhoods. Feels very NYC to Carol.
The restaurant is open, but we are late (after 8:30 pm) and their choices of food are limited. The waiter is not very helpful and we order without knowing what we are getting. We are served a VERY strange combination: urnbes (cheese coated with spices), three haiduk sausages and fries, along with a beer.  Too bad we weren't here at an optimum time. 
Out a couple blocks to a tram, and back to the hotel.

22 Jun 2014 Timisoara to Beograd

22 Jun 2014 Timisoara to Beograd
We get an early start, bid goodbye to the friendly staff of Casa Leone, pick up the generous pre-packed breakfast, and walk out to the tram stop.   It is 6:30 am.  The 4 and 8 trams come by our neighborhood:  8 to the train station, 4 to the center. The 4 comes first so we take it.  Two stations later, an 8 is right behind, so we hop off the 4 and on to the 8.
At 7:15 am we are at the train station.  On track 7 is a cute 2 car train that has been badly tagged by graffiti artists.  There is no engine car - just two cars that join without walls in the center.  We take two seats at one end - it turns out to be the end.  There are maybe 10 folks traveling onward into Serbia, including a father and daughter from Grenada, Spain, who have come to accompany their son/brother who is going home after a year of studying in Bucuresti.
The other 10-15 folks are going to tiny spots in rural Romania south of Timisoara.
At 7:48 we are off.  Our breakfast sandwiches are delicious.  We are quickly back in the boonies. At 9:00 we are at the border.  The Romanian police pass through the cars and stamp our passports as we leave the country. Then the Serbian police come through the cars and collect our passports.  By 9:30 we get our passports back.  We have Serbian stamps, and the time now 8:30 am, since we are now on Central European Time.  At 8:52 (apx) we pull into Vrsac in Serbia.  There is a Serbian train ahead on the tracks.  Mike wanders around the station looking for a way to buy Serbian dinars or use an ATM.  Nada, nix, nema.
At 9:40 we are off on a nearly empty Serbian train.  We tool along through the flat Serbian countryside.  At 10:47 we pull into Pancevo, and the train suddenly crush loads with locals going maybe 20 km into Beograd.  Carol is in the restroom.  Mike is asleep in a 4 seat group.  A man comes along, shouts at Mike [in Serbian], and wakes him up. "Who do you think you are (or something to that effect)?" So the bags go up top on the racks, and we acquire 2 seatmates.
From Pancevo to Beograd we are in a crowded suburban train.  Signs of industrialization appear. We cross the Danube (Dunav) and pull into the Dunav station.  It is 11:30 am. We lack crucial items: no local currency, no water, no bus card.  The station is empty. Welcome to Serbia.
It is unclear what to do.  We 5 (2 of us, 3 Spaniards) walk one block to a busy boulevard.  Carol sits down with both Froman backpacks and assorted day bags. She waits while the rest of us walk up and down the street.  Finally, the walkers find a money changer who is open (it is Sunday and many places are closed). 
Mike changes $50 US into 4150 dinar.  The rate, 83 dinars to the dollar, turns out to be close to the best rate in town.  He buys a bottle of COLD water, and two BusPlus cards, with 2 rides on each.  One of the cards is fancy, and costs 250 dinar ($3).  The other costs 40 dinar (45 cents).  To this day, Mike never learns the difference between the two cards.  (Maybe one is good for 5 years, the other for 3 months??).  The rides, including long rides to the airport, on the card, cost 73 dinar (85 cents) each.  BlusPlus cards are flash cards; you hold them close to a reader on the bus, and one ride is deducted. Enuf about transit.
Mike returns to Carol (who is beginning to attract negative attention [Gypsy?] from proper citizens); the Spaniards head on. We two are now refreshed and relieved. Time to hail a cab (a wise move when you don't know the lay of the land) to the Beograd City Hotel, where we have reserved a room for 52 euros (6275 dinar).  It turns out to be located right across from the Central Train Station and the main bus station - perfect for us. It is also a fancy hotel (maybe even ****), with what turns out to be a very nice breakfast included. Indeed, a good deal even if pricy by our standards.
After we have settled in, we go for a walk toward the center.  About 600-700 m partly uphill we are at Zeleni Venac bus station.  Lots of buses leave from here, including the 72 to the airport, and the 83 to Zemun.  Also here is a great vegetable and fruit market. We do a little shopping.  It seems hardly possible, but a lot of the prices are even cheaper than Romanian market prices, e.g., cherries for 75 cents a kg.
We have restaurant, Prolece, in mind, that we discovered while searching "Beograd in Your Pocket" on the internet in Timisoara.  We leave the bus station and the market, and cross a very busy street.  A block or two up on the left is a shwarma restaurant with, wonder of wonders,  a prominent mezuzah.  The owners are Israeli, and Carol thinks to ask where there might be a synagogue in Beograd.  Why yes, thank you for asking.  Just go to the next block, turn right and walk a little bit.  (We note that we really want to come back and get some shakshuka featured at this place, but the timingis never is opportune.  Too bad.)
It is just after 2 pm. We follow the directions to Sukat Shalom.  Quite an imposing building with a tiered portico. A sign outside says it was dedicated 15 Jun 1924.  We pay a small admission and go inside to a beautiful, art deco style synagogue.  Big tall ceilings and an upper section, once for the women.  Now, pretty much just a museum.
Back to the main street.  5 more short blocks and we are at Prolece.  Next door is a fancy ice cream shop. Tempting, but first some real food. 
Restaurants listed by "In Your Pocket" are designated as 1 euro, 2 euros, and 3 euros on the website.  This is a "1 euro" place, but actually rather stylish.  It is packed, even though the time is well past 2:30 pm.
We sit down in the patio and order mushrooms with kaymak, sarmaluta (stuffed cabbages) with corn porridge, lamb soup, café latte, a draft beer. The mushrooms are incredibly rich because of the kaymak (butter cheese). Total 1733 dinar ($21).  We are finally full.  Would have been perfection except for the smokers surrounding us.
It is 3:30 pm.  Off a block to the classy central street, which has been closed off to traffic.  There is an office with tourist info.  A large Plexiglas cube for donations to help those battered by the recent flooding. Cafes, ice cream, restaurants, museums, stores, and street entertainers. Musical buskers range from a talented folk group to an old guy with a violin whose off-key playing drives Mike nuts.
We walk into a book store and spot a very beautiful Serbian cookbook for $25 or so.  Too heavy.  Too expensive.  The recipes didn't seem to be that interesting.
On the mall there is an art gallery which allowed people in as if it were a museum.  Entry gratis. 3 stories of great 20th C. paintings. Much satirical art. Serbian artists were in the mainstream for every artistic trend.
Carol senses a good deal of style and panache in this part of Beograd. Some people are earning real money and have the means to look like Madison Avenue execs.
To the north of the pedestrianized street lies the Citadel. Looking down the street it seems near, but that is an optical illusion. We make the decision to visit the citadel tomorrow, so we stay in the neighborhood, looking for a store that sells bottled water, and another that fills up bus cards.  The former was not too hard, but the latter turned out to be very difficult.  We pass a very old mosque.  Finally, we stop for a snack, and polish off our cherries.
We are now a little refreshed, but this morning's early start, the stresses of moving out, relocating, and even the time change are taking a toll on us.
We walk back along Terazije Blvd, a wide stretch of traffic.  Finally, we come across a kiosk which fills bus cards, and we purchase some tickets for the next day.  We pass two buildings which were bombed in the Kosovo wars and never repaired, and we are back at the hotel.
Evening is coming on, and we have business to settle. Our current plan: leave Beograd on 24 Jun.  All day train to Podogorica, Montenegro.  Then to Kotor and on to Dubrovnik, Croatia, on 25 Jun.  To Sarajevo, Bosnia, on 26 Jun  (we need to be in Sarajevo on 27 Jun for Carol's hiking trip).  So we walk over to the train station to get the necessary train tickets. 
BIG surprise:  because of the recent flooding, the day train is suspended.  NO day train.  The night train schedule is unattractive.  No day bus to Podgorica either.  So we sit down over coffee at an internet café in the bus station (you have to pay for the internet even though you bought the coffee).  Finally, we decide to fly to Dubrovnik on 24 Jun and take the bus to Sarajevo on 26 Jun.  No Montenegro this trip, at least for Mike.  Tickets are $175 US each, leaving at 13:35 and getting in at 14:40. We settle the deal online.
We are a little bit hungry so we order some fast food at the bus station: a large plescavica  (a hamburger with a piece of spiced up meat).  Cheap and uninspiring, but it quenches hunger.
Back to the hotel and to bed.