Balkans Trip 2023 Bosnia and Herzegovina Europe

At the crossroads in Sarajevo

I flew to Sarajevo from Zagreb. Sarajevo wasn’t supposed to be the highlight of my Balkans trip that year, but it ended up being just that.

*Sebilj in Sarajevo (Ottoman wooden fountain)*

Arrival in Sarajevo

Sarajevo is the capital of Bosnia and Herzegovina, the country that has been many things. I will not even attempt to describe the history of the geography of this part of the world and the many conflicts that led to it being what it is today, but in a nutshell, when Yugoslavia broke up in 1992, following the collapse of the Soviet Union, it was divided up into a series of states including the Socialist Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina. When that Republic had a referendum to decide whether it should further subdivide, the Bosnian War broke out. A localized conflict between Bosniaks, Serbs, and Croats which became an international armed conflict complete with war crimes and genocide. It was probably inevitable. A perfect storm of conflict that dealt with history, culture, geography, and religion. It is probably still the thing that most people think of when they think of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

I arrived very late at night in Sarajevo and was picked up at the airport by a guy and a gal who run a tour company in the city (Meet Bosnia Tours). My hostel had arranged for them to pick me up because there wasn’t proper transportation at that late hour. I later looked them up and saw that the guy had given Bill Clinton a walking tour of Sarajevo, complete with pictures on the website. I decided that I would do their free walking tour the next morning.

I was staying at the Franz Ferdinand Hostel. It was cheap and centrally located and really felt more like an apartment than a hostel. I had a private room with a small bathroom and a shared kitchen in a hallway where there was a timeline of the events of World War One marked on the floor. My room was near the Battle of the Marne.

Morning walk

The next morning, after a good night’s sleep, and thankfully not dreaming about over half a million dead European soldiers, I went out into the city. Sarajevo is so intriguing. Divided by the Miljacka River, it is also divided between East and West. Sarajevo was the administrative seat of both the Ottoman Empire and the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and it displays its divided past proudly. One side of the city feels a bit like Turkey, with mosques and narrow streets cafes selling Turkish coffee and baklava with carpets and shisha. The other side has churches, ornate buildings, cafes selling Viennese style coffee and cakes, and more western European style streets. It quite literally feels like the best of both worlds.

scenes in a divided Sarajevo

The first order of business, of course, was coffee. Bosnia has its own coffee, Bosnian coffee, which is very similar to Turkish coffee (for the reasons just described), but the preparation is a little bit different.

I had a coffee (delicious) and wandered around the square, visited a church, and started to explore the streets. I walked along the river, which is very picturesque with numerous bridges old and new. I crossed to the other side. And meandered around residential streets. Rough looking but well cared for buildings, flowers, a bit of street art. There were some curious statues of circus performers strung across the river. I stopped to browse booksellers setting up along the river before making my way to the appointed spot for my free walking tour.

A tour through history

I haven’t done one of these free walking tours in a long time. I think they are excellent opportunities to learn a little bit about a city and the history and pay only whatever you think is appropriate for a tip, but often the schedules don’t suit me, or I’d rather just explore on my own. But the history of Sarajevo is so complicated, and the current state of things is still contentious, and I really hoped to learn something from the tour, so I joined. I’m glad I did. I got all the information that I could have wanted, including about how there are still tensions in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Some people would prefer the country to fracture further into newer smaller countries, and ethnic and religious differences are still a source of strife. The only downside of the tour was that it was enormous. There were about 30 people, and while I made a point of always being up at the front of the group, it was a bit too large and could have been a little bit faster paced with a smaller group; but it was free, friendly, and informative.

Armed with my new knowledge, I really appreciated the city even more. I notice the bullet holes that cover so many of the buildings. Some have been completely repaired, others simply plastered over so you can so you can still see where they landed, and some have been left as reminders of the not-so-distant past. There are places, like in front of the cathedral, where bullet holes and mortar shell damage is marked by red paint as a reminder of those who died on that spot. It is one of those places where the war is so recent that when you walk around you realize that everyone that nearly everyone you see either lived through or fought in the war or has parents who did. So the scars, like the bullet holes, were still fresh.

*bullet holes and markers of death at the base of the Sacred Heart Cathedral*

There are, as I understand it, several very good museums in the city about the war and the genocide and those experiences. Unfortunately, because I was only there for a short time, just two days (and one spent visiting Mostar) made the choice to skip the museums. If I were going back, they would be top of my list.

In terms of historical sites, I think my favourite spot was seeing the place where Gavrilo Princip stood when he assassinated Archduke French Ferdinand on 28 June 1914. In case you don’t already know, I like history. I even have a degree in it (which doesn’t mean that I know a lot it just means that at one point I studied it a bit) and the First World War is my favourite war. I know it’s weird to have a favourite war, but for a variety of reasons that I’m not going to go into in this post, I’m fascinated by World War One. To see the spot where 19-year-old Gavrilo Princip the Archduke Franz Ferdinand (and his wife), was amazing. This is the act that set into motion the First World War the end of the empires of Europe, and really the start of the modern 20th century. As a cynical friend said to me “if it hadn’t that act, it would be something else that started the war.” That’s true, but it wasn’t something else; it was this, and the spot itself is fascinating.

There’s a small marker which is very politically neutral. This might seem surprising given that it is a marker of an assassin and murderer, but as the tour guide explained to us Gavrilo Princip’s legacy in the country is divided. Some people view him as a hero and others as a terrorist or anarchist. So the marker does not refer to the moral quality of his act, it simply notes that this is where it happened.

*the assassination happened at the foot of this bridge (the Latin Bridge), at the corner of the pink building*

More walking and sights

I spent most of my time in Sarajevo doing what I always do walking around taking insights looking at interesting buildings and historical spots, drinking coffee and smoking when I can. The coffee in Sarajevo was great the food, for vegetarian it wasn’t so great, and at this point I was entirely sick of burek, the ubiquitous Balkan greasy cheese pies.

I had a cigar and coffee and the excellent Cafe Divan, hidden away in a pretty courtyard, thick with smoke.

I visited the Gazi Husrev-beg Mosque, and wandered the streets.

Abandoned bobsled hike

One thing I was excited to do in Sarajevo was to explore the bobsled track on Trebević Mountain. In 1984 Sarajevo hosted the Olympics, and as part of that, they built a bobsled track on the mountain. Due to years of neglect, and probably the war, the bobsled track has fallen into ruin. Just across the river you can walk and follow the signs to the cable car and for a small fee it will whisk you up the mountain. (The cable car, originally built in the 1950s, was completely destroyed during the war, but was rebuilt in 2017-2018.) The ride is 9 minutes long, whisking you 500 meters up, and when you finish you are 1164 meters high on Mount Trebević, with excellent views of the city.

*near the stairs leading to the gondola*

From the gondola, you can go hiking on the mountain or follow the signs to the bobsled track, which is what I did. Almost immediately I ran into another girl (Canadian and traveling solo), and we decided to walk along and then hike back up the track together. I was thankful for the company.

The bobsled track is excellent, particularly if you love abandoned places and graffiti, which I do. It winds through the mountain and is completely covered in graffiti. In places it is intact, in other places it is broken. Effectively, you walk to the bottom of it and you have to hike back up to the top which seems a bit punishing in the heat, but it’s not too long and it is certainly a good exercise. Apart from a couple other people we passed, we were entirely alone on the track, which gave it a bit of a delightfully eerie feel.

Zlatna Ribica

Following way descent from the mountain, and parting ways with my short-term companion, I made my way to one of the best bars I’ve ever been to. Zlatna Ribica. (Goldfish.) In the centre of Sarajevo but, it’s not something that you would likely stumble across if you were just walking around as it is a bit tucked away. It is a delightful tiny bar, warm with browns and golds cluttered with objects and antiques. It feels like the sort of place that you might go to have your fortune told by a mysterious old woman. There was soft jazz music playing and a cool goth girl serving drinks when she wasn’t knitting and smoking cigarettes. I asked for the menu, and she brought me a deck of cards. Each card had written on it in sharpie a drink. There were two people in there smoking cigarettes which was amazing to me, because, while smoking on patios in Sarajevo was certainly allowed, I hadn’t seen anyone smoking inside. I asked the girl if it would be possible for me to smoke a cigar inside and she simply shrugged and said in deadpan heavily accented English “Why would it not be ok?” And that’s when it became my favourite bar. I had previously wondered where to smoke cigars in Sarajevo? I had found my spot. I sat in there and smoked a cigar and had a drink and listened to the music and was the happiest I had been all day. And it was a good day to start with.

Wrapping up Sarajevo

I had three nights and two days in Sarajevo, which probably would have been enough time to really do it justice, except that on my second day I wanted to visit Mostar, and did, so everything that I’m describing in this post is what I did on day one. The following morning, I went almost immediately to Mostar, and I got back in the afternoon and spent my final evening in Sarajevo wandering the streets, eating local food (I found some vegetarian dumpling dish), smoking shisha, and trying to cure a recently onset cold with local apricot and honey brandies. This was before taking a bus to Montenegro.

I just loved Sarajevo. Just a wonderful combination of cultures in a historically fascinating place. I could definitely go back.

Europe Ireland

New Year’s Eve in Dublin

I awoke in Dublin in my hostel bunk. I had had a perfectly lovely evening the night before but this was my one and only full day in the city. It was December 31st, and I would be leaving early the next morning. There was no time to waste.

I walked into the city and retraced some of my steps from the night before, to see the areas in daylight. The weather was not cooperating. It was windy and gray and cold. The grey and cold I was expecting and actually fine with, but the wind made things unpleasant. Fortunately, by the afternoon the sun would come out again for a bit.

I felt immediately at home in Dublin; notwithstanding the excessive alcohol consumption I had observed the night prior, it has a seriousness about it. A studious, literary kind of aura that I’m very comfortable with. It’s entirely possible that I am projecting onto the city that which I already expected from a lifetime of reading novels and poetry by Irish authors, but nevertheless, that’s how it felt and I liked it.

Walking around Dublin there were plaques and statues to great Irish writers and thinkers. I sought out Oscar Wilde’s house and the statue of him. I won’t post a photo of the statue as it is ubiquitous online and I’m not a big fan, but it was very cool to see his house.

I had planned, of course, to go to Trinity College to see the library, however, it was closed for cleaning or renovation, so I had to take it off the list. Right there is a good reason to return to Dublin. But I was able to wander the city. I visited parks and shops and numerous cafes whenever I needed a break from my walking in the cold. Everyone I chatted with was friendly.

I visited Saint Patrick’s cathedral, which was a ticketed church, but well worth it as it is beautiful inside and there is a lot to look at. I enjoyed the decoration and design of the inside of the church, as well as the mummified remains of a cat and rat that were pulled out of the pipe organ in the 1950s.

I wandered aimlessly through the city at some point taking in statues and green spaces and bits of street art.

I visited the pub the Brazen Head, which bills itself as Dublin’s oldest pub, having been open since 1198. It wasn’t the best pub that I’d been to, but since I was right there, how could I skip such superlative drinking experience?

I walked to the Irish Museum of Modern Art, which was excellent. Precisely the sort of modern and occasionally weird art that I enjoy.

I visited two cigar stores downtown. There was a James J Fox, which is related to the James J Fox tobacconist shops in London, which I frequent when I am there. As well as ‘The Decadent Cigar Emporium’. In both cases, I bought a couple of cigars and chatted with the proprietors about the smoking laws in Dublin.

I had read prior to coming to Dublin that smoking had been banned indoors everywhere, but sometimes when you make inquiries you can find that there are certain secret places to smoke. Sadly, both shops confirmed for me that smoking is indeed banned inside and that includes a prohibition on any cigar lounges. The people at James J Fox were able to give me intel on one pub, however, where smoking would be allowed because it is technically outdoors. The James Toner pub. I made a mental note of that for later.

I wandered the alleys and poked around in bookshops and vintage clothing stores, just enjoying whatever i found in my path.

I was having a perfectly lovely day – especially after the sun came out; however, things took a turn when the sun went down. It was December the 31st. What that meant was that once the evening came, everyone’s evening plans went into full New Year’s Eve mode. I didn’t have any New Year’s Eve plans being there alone in the city. I should say, I don’t like New Year’s regardless of where I am. I think it’s a stupid holiday. I don’t like excessive drinking, I don’t like staying up late, and I don’t like big raucous parties, so it’s just not for me. So spending New Years in a foreign city means that I’m a bit of an outsider. I would have been perfectly content to go for a nice dinner and have a drink somewhere but most of the restaurants had put in place expensive tickets for parties or multi course dinners with a prefix menu. And I wasn’t about to go and spend £100 to have a dinner or attend a party that I didn’t want. I also would have been happy to sit outside somewhere and just watch the world go by but, being that it was December in Ireland, it was cold and had started to rain again. I tried to elbow my way into a few pubs just to have a drink, but those places had already become so packed there was a waiting list outside.

Remembering the suggestion of the tobacconists at James J Fox, I walked to the James Toner pub. And this was my salvation. The James Toner pub is a proper pub, but they have a back entrance and there’s a sort of massive mostly enclosed patio area where smoking is allowed. You basically feel like you are indoors except that there is a small part of the ceiling that is replaced with the sky. It still had leather booths and tables and TVs and a full bar. The heaters were blaring and it was comfortable. I sat there and had three cigars and multiple Jameson and ginger ale drinks (a drink that I had only discovered once I went to Dublin and found to be quite tasty). People weren’t particularly social outside of their individual groups. It was New Year’s after all, and people were out with their friends to have a good time; they weren’t really interested in chatting with the weird foreign girl dressed in black smoking cigars in the corner. But that’s okay. I found a spot where I was comfortable, and I was happy to sit there quietly and just watch the crowd.

Once it got to be about 9:00pm, it was time to move on. The place was getting too busy and too loud, and I couldn’t sit there any longer. At this point I just reconciled myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to go to a big party so I may as well just go back to my dorm. I felt a sense of shame going back to the hostel actually. Here I was in a foreign country; was I really not going to stay up until midnight to ring in the new year? No, no I was not. I had a shower and got into my bunk and as soon as I did that I knew that I had made the right decision. I was cozy and comfortable I watched a movie and fell asleep. I got to enjoy a bit of New Year’s revelry but was able to avoid the last few hours of drunken idiots and staying up late just for the sake of staying up.

The next morning, I woke up early. I think everyone in the hostel was asleep. Even the lobby was littered with the bodies of passed-out revellers. I arranged a taxi and headed back to the airport and back to Vancouver. It was a little less than 48 hours that I was in Dublin and, clearly, I need to return to see more of Ireland, but I was completely satisfied with the short visit that I had. Although I’m not sure that I would be eager to go and visit somewhere for New Year’s Eve again, it was a great way to start off 2024.

Europe Ireland

Arrival in Dublin

The way statutory holidays fell in December of 2023, it made it irresistibly easy to take a long weekend away. I had just spent four days in Iceland over Christmas. I then returned to work for four days before again turning to the airport to fly to Dublin for New Year’s Eve. At the time, this seemed like a brilliant idea although I must admit that flying back across to Europe only four days after having just returned was a bit gruelling. But none of that mattered of course once i was in Ireland for the first time. It seemed brilliant.

I left Vancouver flew to London where I had a short layover and then flew to Dublin. This was my first time in Ireland and I wouldn’t have very much time there at all so I had to make the most of it. I arrived at about 4:00 PM on December the 30th and went straight to my hostel. I was staying at the Jacobs Inn hostel in Dublin, which was a great location, a short walk from the centre of town and to almost everything that I wanted to visit.

I don’t know what accommodation prices are like at times other than New Year’s, but at New Year’s that was very expensive. I booked myself a part in it room of 10 pods for women and I think that little bunk bed cost me about $150.00 a night CDN. Fortunately, I was only going to be there for two nights. It was a great hostel, extremely well designed. My little bunk was so cozy and comfortable it had all the necessary amenities. I scarcely saw the other girls that I was sharing a room with.

By the time I got myself organized and went out, it was dark. I walked across the bridge towards the Temple Bar area. I know, it’s super touristy, but when you never been there before it seems like a logical place to start in the evening. On the way I was walking down a street that seemed entirely unremarkable, when I past my first Irish pub.

It was called the John Mulligan pub and its sign proclaimed that it had been in business since 1782. Good enough for me, I went inside. It was exactly what I wanted it to be. It was simple, cozy, and busy, but not too loud; everyone in there looked like a local and was having a good time chatting with each other. There were still Christmas decorations up. I made my way to the bar and ordered a whiskey. This is the part of the blog where I should tell you that I don’t drink beer so I did not consume any Guinness. This was strictly a whiskey trip. I do like whiskey, but I don’t tend to drink the Irish variety. For my two days in Dublin I would use my naivete as an ‘in’ to talking with locals and bartenders about their whiskeys and asking them what they recommended. That worked well in this instance, as soon I was deep in conversation with two local fellows. If that had been the only thing I did in Dublin I think I would have left perfectly satisfied it was a great experience.

But I wasn’t done yet.

I continued over to the Temple Bar area, where things were noticeably more crowded and louder. The streets were charming. Clearly, there touristy, but they were extremely appealing. Everything seemed so Irish. There were fiddle players and whiskeys and Guinnesses, old buildings, men in tweed, young drunken boys smoking cigarettes…it was exactly what you would expect and everything you would want. I went into the actual Temple Bar itself, and got myself a different type of whiskey and elbowed my way into the centre courtyard, which only had a partial roof so, technically, smoking was allowed. I smoke some cigarillos and sat down and took in the scene. A band was playing Irish music in the occasional Leonard Cohen song. The place was standing room only and everyone was having seemingly the time of their lives.

I took this photo (below), which I think is my favourite photo that I took from the entire time I was in Dublin. There’s just so much energy and although you can’t see many faces, those faces that are exposed are all exuberant. It was another perfect experience.

From there I walked around, I had a mediocre meal of something that I can no longer recall that involved potatoes, and I hit up another bar where I had a whiskey and a cigar on the patio. A few people chatted with me, most of them drunk, some of them flirtatious. It was all very enjoyable. It was a little on the cold side but it hardly mattered as I had several whiskeys now coursing through my body.

It was a wonderful introduction to Dublin. The next day, December the 31st, was my only full day in Dublin and I had a lot to accomplish. I was in bed by about 11:00 that first night and excited for the next day.

(Whenever anyone tells me that my occasional short trips overseas aren’t worth the time for money that it takes to do them, I point to experiences like this. While Dublin certainly deserves more of your time than an evening, in that one evening I had a wonderful, memorable experience and I was thankful that I had another day to follow: New Year’s Eve.)

*many of the buildings had lighting projections*

Europe Iceland

Christmas Day in Reykjavik

Christmas Eve was behind me and i was confronted with my final day in Iceland: Christmas Day. I have not travelled much at Christmas. It is not a cheap as I would like, and some destinations are overcrowded. That said, it is easy to take a long weekend off from work at the holidays, so it is a convenient time for a holiday. Having done it a couple of times now, I can say this: Christmas is a good time to travel, but it is best to avoid Christmas Day.

That said, Iceland does have some fascinating Christmas traditions. There are a group of mischievous fellows called the “Yule Lads” (really) and their raison d’être is performing naughty pranks and delivering gifts to good children by placing them in their shoes. Their mother is a troll names Grýla who collects bad children in a sack and boils them alive, presumably for consumption. And there is the Yule Cat who hunts down people who don’t get an item of new clothing for Christmas and eats them. The best tradition, however, is the ‘book flood’, according to which books are given as gifts on Christmas Eve and then the rest of the evening is spent reading. This sounds wonderful – and after all of the naughty children have been kidnapped and eaten there is certain to be lots of peace and quiet for reading. Of course, I was solo and had no one to exchange Yuletide books with, so I needed to fill Christmas Day a different way.

I was flying home from Reykjavik on Christmas Day, but not until the evening, so I had a day to fill. That was a bit of a struggle. It was dark and cold and almost everything was closed. I ended up spending about $75 CDN on a buffet meal at my hostel. The hostel did have a nice cozy feeling, but no one was particularly chatty, so I ate alone. I am normally happy to eat alone, but on this particular day, where everything seemed a bit depressing, I could have done with some company.

I went out and walked around to sights that I had not yet laid eyes on; things I could appreciate from the outside and walked aimlessly for a while.

I stopped and I had a cigar sitting on a bench outside a closed early that had left its lights on and its pink plastic Christmas tree up and had a cigar. It was so cold, but it felt a bit special.

I then killed some time at the Lebowski Bar, simply because it was open. There was only one other table occupied inside. It did have a cozy feeling and was playing Christmas music. I had a mulled wine and mulled over whether Christmas Day was a good day to be visiting anything.

Fortunately, by early evening it was time to return to the airport.

I loved my time in Reykjavik, but I kind of wished I had left late on Christmas Eve or early on Christmas Day, as the last day just felt like an expensive way of killing time. Lesson learned for the future: use Christmas Day as a day for long haul travel; not for sightseeing.

Despite this, Reykjavik had exceeded my expectations. I can’t stop thinking about its beauty and magic. I even find myself thinking about how relatively close it is to Vancouver and how it is kind of a perfect long weekend getaway. Maybe I will return to see it again – maybe in the summer – but in the meantime there are more new places to discover. Like Dublin, which I would fly to four days later.

Wandering North

At the crossroads in Sarajevo

Arrival in Sarajevo

Morning walk

A tour through history

More walking and sights

Abandoned bobsled hike

Zlatna Ribica

Wrapping up Sarajevo

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Arrival in Sarajevo

Morning walk

A tour through history

More walking and sights

Abandoned bobsled hike

Zlatna Ribica

Wrapping up Sarajevo

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