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.