Big City Bosnia: Sarajevo

After a quite exhausting night bus trip - no air conditioning, exceptionally narrow seats, some drunk passangers - I just sit in the hall of the central bus station for a long while, have breakfast and finish my book. Eventually I feel up to findıng my tram and a ticket and the hostel rıght in the center of the city, just two streets off the river Miljacka and the bridge where Franz Ferdinand was assassinated 99 years ago. The hostel ıs called Residence Rooms and the height of the rooms is certainly residential. The atmosphere is cozy and welcoming, although it is quite big, another family run place. While waiting for my room I talk to the owner, a great lady fluent in many languages, about how there are still differences between the eastern and western parts of Germany - and how she thinks Yugoslavia was better before the change.

In the afternoon I find a small guide book in the living room and set out to explore the surroundings in the blazing sunlight that sometimes is even stronger than my sun-glasses. Although it is not as hot as in Mostar my ice-cream consumption peaks here (after preaching for weeks to the parents at the pediatrist's practice to only buy packaged ice-cream in warm climate... ;))

I instantly like Sarajevo, after having been in Mostar and some places in Kosovo which felt quite different, I think I can say there is something like a specific Bosnian atmosphere that I recognize also in this much bigger city. In the old town district of Baščaršija and its surroundings the Turkish influence mixing with Slavic and Austro-Hungarian elements is especially visible and I am looking forward to visiting Turkey itself quite soon. The Gazi Husrev-bey Mosque is one of the most beautiful mosques I know with a calm and happy atmosphere filling the yard with a magnificent fountain in the middle of the bustling old town.
Later I walk up to the Srvzo family's house, a museum displaying the taste and comfort of the Sarajevo upper class during Ottoman times. 

The main streets and tiny alleys between the low buildings bustle with visitors considering souvenirs, eating ice-cream and drinking Bosnian coffe in one of the small cafes. There are quite a lot of veiled women, but even more with sIeeveless tops. No pressure to restrain one's clothing in this Muslim country, very relaxing. For more relaxing after much walking in the sun I choose a yard cafe to have a Bosnian coffee - don't even mıss my black tea all that much. The main streets leading away from the old town get really busy only later in the evening when people in groups, pairs, families get out to enjoy the summer with less heat and sun, but as cheerfully as in the afternoon in Baščaršija.

On the next day I join the senior hostel owner's tour dealing mainly with more recent aspects of Sarajevo's history. At the center of the tour is the siege Sarajevo suffered for nearly four years. After we visited the Jewish cemetery he shows us a rock with a great view of the city in the valley, streching nto the hills. Handing us a pair of binoculars he adds, see, this was the view the snipers had, you can distinguish people down there in the street. Weird feeling. Once more this tour is a mix of history and personal story, in this case starting in WWII. I will need many more stories to get a 3D picture... 

Before we visit the museum of the tunel that served as a life support during the siege, we visit another building that could be called at least half a tunnel: The ruins of the olympic bob sleıgh run, now a kind of open air graffitti gallery in the forest that had to be demined in order to be used as a get away from the city again.

Together with three other guests from the hostel - two of them Americans - I finish the day at the soccer friendly Bosnia-Hercegovina against the USA. The tıckets cost five Euros, we take along a Bosnian flag, a Bosnian scarf - and a US jersey. Bosnia starts out well and apart from sıdeway glances no one mınds the obvıuos American. After a while, however, the game turns and so does the audıence's mood. People even start to leave before the game ıs over. Still, I enjoyed the fırst match of national teams I saw so far. And so did the Bosnıan-American grandson of the hostel owner.