Today I went on the tour offered by the hostel I'm staying in. Apparently it's quite famous, in a guidebook or something, and everyone at the hostel has been talking about how good it is. I rarely enjoy or remember what I've been told on tours so they seem like a waste of money to me. But I talked myself into paying the twenty euros for this tour as Sarajevo has such recent and horrible history, which I know almost nothing about.
There was only myself and a Portuguese couple on the tour. The boyfriend was friendly, chatty and spoke great English. The girlfriend didn't speak English, but was smoking hot, so I really enjoyed being with both of them. Our driver/tour-guide was actually the father of the hostel manager. He has been living in the hostel building for decades, even during the four-year war. As he drove us around the city and to the outskirts to show us where the Serbians attacked from (and their sniper locations) he told us many stories about the war. In fact, many of the stories were personal anecdotes including a bullet hitting the wall above his head while working and of his best friend getting shot in the leg while he asleep in bed. He took us up the the old toboggan run and other locations that were used when Bosnia hosted the Olympics. We also visited the biggest graveyard and the famous tunnel which was used to get in and out of Sarajevo during the war. There was a war video and a museum and lots and lots of information which went into one of my ears and straight out the other. We also visited a tunnel which was built during the Siege of Sarajevo as the city was cut off by Serbian forces.
I can't say the tour was worth the money to me, but the Portuguese couple were impressed. After the tour, I went to cafe that I had discovered yesterday while exploring. It's a bit out of the centre, but really cool, with an open loft, good tunes and trendy staff. I sat by the open window drinking coffee then beer and watching the locals pass.
There was only myself and a Portuguese couple on the tour. The boyfriend was friendly, chatty and spoke great English. The girlfriend didn't speak English, but was smoking hot, so I really enjoyed being with both of them. Our driver/tour-guide was actually the father of the hostel manager. He has been living in the hostel building for decades, even during the four-year war. As he drove us around the city and to the outskirts to show us where the Serbians attacked from (and their sniper locations) he told us many stories about the war. In fact, many of the stories were personal anecdotes including a bullet hitting the wall above his head while working and of his best friend getting shot in the leg while he asleep in bed. He took us up the the old toboggan run and other locations that were used when Bosnia hosted the Olympics. We also visited the biggest graveyard and the famous tunnel which was used to get in and out of Sarajevo during the war. There was a war video and a museum and lots and lots of information which went into one of my ears and straight out the other. We also visited a tunnel which was built during the Siege of Sarajevo as the city was cut off by Serbian forces.
I can't say the tour was worth the money to me, but the Portuguese couple were impressed. After the tour, I went to cafe that I had discovered yesterday while exploring. It's a bit out of the centre, but really cool, with an open loft, good tunes and trendy staff. I sat by the open window drinking coffee then beer and watching the locals pass.
The once Olympic toboggan run - now a graffiti spot.
Map showing how Sarajevo was surrounded by Serbian forces during the war in from 1992-1995.
The tunnel.
Last night I had briefly met one of the other guys staying in my dorm room - James. I had overheard him talking to the manager of the hostel about a violent incident between some locals and some backpackers which spilled into the hostel. James intervened to help up and ended up with a big bite mark on his shoulder. I got the feeling he was a good guy, but couldn't be sure. However, today I got to know him much better and decided he is a great guy. And he uses so much Aussie slang. It's hilarious and I frequently asked him to explain what he meant. Some of their expressions are brilliant and silly, but many seem to crude to be used in polite company. I also got to know a blond girl called Suji through James. They seemed to be traveling together, but I later found out they just met in Sarajevo. Suji is Finnish, but lives in London (as does James) and sounds like a New Zealander. They were both easy to get along with and fun to talk to. They said they were catching the train to Belgrade tomorrow and that it was supposed to be awesome there, so I said I'd join them too. Time was getting a little tight to be heading down to Montenegro anyway,
I did my own thing in the afternoon. When I returned to the hostel this evening, the manager told me that James and Suvi wanted to hire a van and driver to take them to Belgrade tomorrow. He said it was faster, easier and not much more expensive, and that if I agreed, he would go ahead and book it. I declined. I had already heard from other travelers about this type of transport. A couple of girls I met told me they spent the whole day in a van because they got rejected twice at borders. They suggested it had something to do with the bad relationship/history between Bosnia and Serbia and strongly recommended using public transport.
Later on, James and Suvi said that taking the train was fine for them too and we decided to celebrate our last night in Sarajevo in style. Unfortunately Sarajevo had other plans.
It's a funny city - Sarajevo. Despite all the history and mosques and tradition, every evening the streets are alive with dance music coming from the bars. Many of the bars are on the street - simply tables and chairs outside with big screen TVs showing sports or music videos. From early evening until midnight there is a great buzz around the downtown area. It's almost too good so it's hard to go back to the hostel to sleep because you can't help but feel you're missing out on something. Especially as Cheers Bar, the loudest and latest bar, is right in front of our hostel and the music comes right through the windows.
James gathered up a few stragglers from the hostel and we all hit Cheers together. It seemed James knew just about everyone in the hostel as he kept calling over guys that passed by. Soon we had a table full of backpackers - though, except Suji, we were all men. Even at our small table, quite a few nationalities were represented - Canadian, Aussie, Finnish, Icelandic, Norwegian, English,Iranian, and of course, Irish. Coincidentally it was several other backpackers last night in Sarajevo. So after many a "cheers" and a couple of broken glasses, spirits were high and we set off in search of somewhere to dance and improve the male to female ratio. We stopped at a couple of bars for shots and to check out the scene, but nowhere was as lively as Cheers. We kept stopping at bars, getting shots, and asking where the party was. We lost a couple of people along the way including the curly-haired Norwegian who said he wanted to fight someone. Probably a good thing we lost him.
And in the end, we found nothing. We followed rumours of a club, but whe we got there, it was empty too. So finally we gave up and returned to Cheers, where even it was dying down in the wee hours of the morning.So Sarajevo misled and disappointed us with after-hours nightlife, but still left us with hangovers the following day.
I did my own thing in the afternoon. When I returned to the hostel this evening, the manager told me that James and Suvi wanted to hire a van and driver to take them to Belgrade tomorrow. He said it was faster, easier and not much more expensive, and that if I agreed, he would go ahead and book it. I declined. I had already heard from other travelers about this type of transport. A couple of girls I met told me they spent the whole day in a van because they got rejected twice at borders. They suggested it had something to do with the bad relationship/history between Bosnia and Serbia and strongly recommended using public transport.
Later on, James and Suvi said that taking the train was fine for them too and we decided to celebrate our last night in Sarajevo in style. Unfortunately Sarajevo had other plans.
It's a funny city - Sarajevo. Despite all the history and mosques and tradition, every evening the streets are alive with dance music coming from the bars. Many of the bars are on the street - simply tables and chairs outside with big screen TVs showing sports or music videos. From early evening until midnight there is a great buzz around the downtown area. It's almost too good so it's hard to go back to the hostel to sleep because you can't help but feel you're missing out on something. Especially as Cheers Bar, the loudest and latest bar, is right in front of our hostel and the music comes right through the windows.
James gathered up a few stragglers from the hostel and we all hit Cheers together. It seemed James knew just about everyone in the hostel as he kept calling over guys that passed by. Soon we had a table full of backpackers - though, except Suji, we were all men. Even at our small table, quite a few nationalities were represented - Canadian, Aussie, Finnish, Icelandic, Norwegian, English,Iranian, and of course, Irish. Coincidentally it was several other backpackers last night in Sarajevo. So after many a "cheers" and a couple of broken glasses, spirits were high and we set off in search of somewhere to dance and improve the male to female ratio. We stopped at a couple of bars for shots and to check out the scene, but nowhere was as lively as Cheers. We kept stopping at bars, getting shots, and asking where the party was. We lost a couple of people along the way including the curly-haired Norwegian who said he wanted to fight someone. Probably a good thing we lost him.
And in the end, we found nothing. We followed rumours of a club, but whe we got there, it was empty too. So finally we gave up and returned to Cheers, where even it was dying down in the wee hours of the morning.So Sarajevo misled and disappointed us with after-hours nightlife, but still left us with hangovers the following day.
Beers at Cheers.
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