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.
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