Thursday 26th August

 

26/05/04 Day 54

I shall skip the functional details & of todays a two bus torture, and move right on to poignant thoughts concerning these two fascinating central balkan countries.

I only wish I could speak 'Balkan', as it is impossible to gauge the general public's opinion between the two. Are there no hard lines between the two because they don't like each other, or it is it the mountain ranges & lack of finance? They have just taken our passports to check electronically (not the lords - Bosniam or serbian I don't know), and although not as 'secure' looking as the Croatian-Bosnian border, there is a distinct feeling that any attempt to get off the bus would remove a few guns from holsters. I think our names have gone into a book as well.

But moving on...

The last fast of Sarajevo city was far more mountainous than that which we had already passed and the gonng was slow - winding over way up,only to wind back down many times. This gave some good views into the valleys and across the occasional plain, and I got like the pain of the journey has been can be offset against this 8 hour tour of the country.

As for the houses, there is a lack of of collated dwellings. instead the houses are spread throughout the country in a peasant like fashion each with its own, seemingly self-sustainable only plot of land. This gives the impression of a huge empty land, reminiscent of a recently post-nomadic culture, ignoring of central government & unbiodidal affairs. Now that we are in Serbia there are some change.

Gone are the bullet holes and signs of war (which I found fascinating tossee), but yet the country feels more... hostile, if not as dangerous, than Bosnia where you have to sweat all night.

After being told we couldn't have breakfast at the hostel, despite the fact it said we could in the brochure, we think because arasey lady was a very stressful life, we were forced to embark upon yet more packing. The map the tourist info had given us is worthy of a mention as it bore no resemblance to the town and ended in countless confused searches. The museum dragged to on the way out which was interesting and shows that they really have no idea about tourism. Incidentally we were the only ones in the museum. I liked the photos on the propay - they were pretty absorbing and frightening to think that the people in the photos (the ones still alive, of course) would probably still be walking around the city today. Perhaps the fact that 'everybody

I seemed to have missed out day 53.

I hd a wonderful nights sleep, wasn't woken by the hounds at all, and I was nice to have to keep warm with blankets for a change, rather than the Croatian didLost somebody explained the subdued-ness on the trolleybus and in the street, which was in stark contrast to Croatia, where the bus was the social meeting place. The museum guarded a figure of something like 1600 children killed between '92 and '96 and the disproportionate number of grave stones from the early '90s was a constant reminder as they were still a bit too shiny marble and not yet forgotten about or most grave stones appear to us (especially back home). I still can't believe I don't remember, even the images in the newspapers, hardly the attacks made me have a huge amount of sympathy and respect for the country.

I liked the shopping streets with the cafes down the middle where basically the young sit (the girls who only dress up for this) and sourchae are endless coffee.

The Turkish quarter was also nice with its many craft shops but it was a bit fake I thought. So many shops sold Turkish coffee sets and I'll been flying home the day after I think I may have bought me purely because they look cool. I was stared at two quickly I chose my souvenir (as was Brian) and what a bargain it was. Lunch was good but I don't think I could eat it every day as the bread seems to. The 'cinema' was my worst nightmare but I managed to blot out the bedlam and enjoy the film. (We also stood in the spot from where Franz Ferdinand II was shot all those many years ago. Unfortunately the museum was shut.) So, Sarajevo, a nice, that's a rubbish word, a small city which was scarred both old (Turkish) and new(cafe culture + shops). It has a nice river with bridges and all the right buildings. But it was most interesting for its bullet-holes, cratered pavements and damaged buildings - they could certainly make more of their history and use it to their advantage (a little tourists) but at the moment I think it's just too soon and the generations have not passed yet so it is enough for the young (the kids in the arcades and the teenagers in the shops and cafes) to be reinstalling the character and vibrancy back into the city. Wherever you looked buildings were hard and work so they are moving on - it would be very interesting to return in another 10 years time.

We decided to scrub out Mostar (previously famous) from our itinerary as we hadn't had long enough in Sarajevo and they didn't look particularly interesting.

We stocked up on pastries before getting the trolley bus to the Serbian district of the city (where the bus station is) and were plagued by beggars (mothers with babies and cigarettes??!!). The damage was still pretty bad here (severely attacked housing) and it was easy to associate this area with pictures in the news from any war zone. The bus was cramped, hot and dirty and rickety but, as predicted, no travel sickness at all. The countryside was just as pretty until we entered Serbia (where the customs official looked at my passport looked at me, did it again and the said "this year... What did he expect to say?!?") I felt a nervous yes was the best option and it seemed to convincehim. Yes so, Serbian landscape - Norfolk really - flat and arable. Things was even the grey clouds and rain to complete the effect. Therefore I wasn't impressed by it at all. Diving into Belgrade was like hitting Jordan in the rush hour - big buildings, lots of cars. We got off the bus a bit wetter and a bit colder and found ourselves in a pollution infected capital during a thunderstorm. It was a short walk to our hostel which is a room where we feel like illegal immigrants as it doesn't look like it's ever been cleaned, the bin is overflowing and smelling and there are 4 bunk beds, one of which is in pieces. Sheets from other peoples' stays are strewn across the room. But then it is student accommodation and is being run by a group of (clearly lazy) students. The showers are nearly all broken and the kitchen consists of a sink. On the upside the pillars are very comfortable, we have a picture in our room and it is £6 a night. Which, after paying a thing of £12 or £10 seems very cheap but we payed the same price for a lot more in Eastern Europe and frankly we thought we'd get more for our money in Belgrade, of all places. Anyway our search for bed was made difficult due to the evening rain and screaming headlights of traffic. We made a rather unnecessary rambling a bridge to the larger duck clearly only open when the sun's shining. We found a couple of restaurants, lots of clothes shops (which were open late), A Starbucks, 3 water fountains, a McDonalds, lots of cake and ice cream shops anda pizza hut which is where I ended up having lasagne and beer. Mmmm not quite what I was looking for. And so we felt Belgrade had potential to be a 'bustling' shopping metropolis which was very modern and a picture of the young.

Having read Heathers account of today I have a few minor comments to make, just in the spirit of historical accuracy - you understand. But first I will put up where I left off in my discussion of Bosnian + Serbian landscapes.

Most apparent after crossing the Sava, was the end of the spread out peasant farmer like dwelling and the beginning of towns - most of them smelly and humble. The roads also improved, with a tall motorway near the end. So conclusion number 1 - a more developed country than its neighbours (and I suppose than Croatia too, were it not for the tourism). Having read the lonely planet and got most excited about the described landscape, I was disappointed to find the only mountains in sight kept tantalizingly out of reach on the horizon, first by distance and then by thunderstorm. But hopefully our impression will be changed after our train gage ride through canyon country.

Belgrade is our biggest-smallest city since Budapest, but is really a Bucharest in choker. On the streets you choke on the fumes, in cafes you choke on the smoke, and in hostels you choke on the smell! It is an international disgrace that they charge £6 for this accommodation.

Our search for food was actually Heathers search for food, and it was not just the weather and noise that made it difficult. Fortunately, it was for me quite enjoyable, having been 9 hours on a bus, and seeing the city in the sheeting rain (it occasionally lit fork lightning from the middle of a ton wide river) was great