Wake Up...

sarajevo pastiche #3

  

  

  

Sarajevo pastiche #2

  

  

  

Sarajevo pastiche #1

    

   

   

Warm welcome to Sarajevo

Bewildered in our arrival to a new city with new smells, sights and sounds all around, we took the first and easiest opportunity to get a room to drop our bags and catch our bearings. Owned by a hostel service, it was a room with six beds, but we'd have it to ourselves for the price of a regular private double. Immediately we were following a man up the steep cobbled residential streets surrounding the old city center. Passing a mixture of tumble-down shacks and fixed-up Ottoman-style buildings, we finally turned left at a particularly rugged former house, and to our surprise, entered it.

Finally alone in the shade and quiet of the room we turned the light on (a single dim overhead bulb) to locate the outlet to recharge our electronics (none), tried the beds (saggy as hammocks), and waded through the stagnant water on the bathroom floor to use the toilet. We've always prided ourselves in being good budget travelers, and we realized this is a relatively poor country, but the price here didn't seem fair at 25 Euros. Nevertheless we decided to spend one night, which allowed us more leisure that day in locating a better place for the remainder of our stay in town. 

We returned that night well after dark and when I flicked on the light Jen looked startled and said "Oh my god." I followed the dotted lines coming out of her eyes over to a bed across the room. There, squinting in the light, was a curled up young cat. She stretched and got up to greet us as I realized I'd opened the window earlier to air the room out. She demonstrated his ability to win a room for the night as she intensely mauled us with affection for over an hour. After spending the night curled up in my neck, she left in time for us to grab our bags and go. Outside in the yard we saw that she was the smart one of several identical siblings.

    
    
    

Here's to a fresh start...

Happy New Year (albeit 11 days in)... So, I've let myself get quite behind on the blog, and the sights and impressions that I'd like share from Budapest have piled up, but I do want to start the new year with a well-wish. I always used to think that while any given year may be good or bad for any given person, that on balance there aren’t really any differences in years for the world as a whole. An individual looks at their year through from their own perspective, but given the amount of individual perspectives there are out there, the quality of a year lived collectively by the world balances out, or neutralizes. To the extent I'm questioning this notion in light of an accumulation of destructive current events in the world, I wish everyone reading this a better year ahead.

Before I share the scraps recently gathered in Budapest, I’m going to return to where I left off on the blog before Christmas, and attempt to give an impression of Sarajevo. Honestly, I think I've been intimidated about how to approach descriptions of that place because we were so touched by it, and I've been concerned about adequately conveying what a special place it is using its own merits and without glorifying anything. Beginning with my next post I'll give it a try.

Before I go back to that trip from November, however, here’s an impression of the New Year's celebration in our part of Budapest. Andrássy út, closed to traffic and filled with people in party hats and carrying champagne bottles were kissing, hollering and dodging firecrackers. The fireworks were being launched from all directions and, as some of them landed among openings in the crowds, red and blue sparkles bounced in all directions causing thrilled shrieks all around. 

Scenes from Budapest at Christmas

Budapest has emerged from an ideally quiet Christmas. Almost all of the shops were closed and the streets were mostly deserted. After a month of crowded Christmas fairs, hot spiced wine and stores filled with beigli and candy, everyone seemed to go home for a few days. 

This contrast with the gaudy sales-pitch I've been getting used to in recent years highlighted for me how distorted the holiday is becoming from the sentimentality everyone has for it in their imaginations. Some of my favorite parts of the holiday were always in the brief silent moments when I'd be outside walking in the boring grey afternoons before dinner, or after the feast when everyone is full, tired, satisfied and together.

We spent the few quiet days here walking through the overcast city with our hands shoved into our coat pockets and scarves pulled up around our faces, seeing only an occasional family carrying packages down the street. Even our neighborhood homeless man was gone from his usual door vestibule Christmas night.

Neretva Gorge by Rail

As much as Bosnia and Herzegovina are still off the main tourist track, the train from Mostar to Sarajevo(the full length of which originates in Ploce, Croatia on the Adriatic Sea) could still be called a hidden gem. I understand that while the train's two rail cars were largely vacant only a few years ago, they are now full of local passengers and tourists in the summer. In most places I've been, a ride through terrain like that would be marketed as a special tourist day trip. Here it was simply transportation, but over the course of the two-and-a-half hour trip I could hardly look down at my book for fear I'd miss more scenery. 

 

 

The portion we rode leaves Mostar through a wide plain along the Neretva River. Heading north, it quickly winds into the deep Neretva River Gorge against the high rock walls that enclose the river. As the tracks climb higher into the gorge, they pass a dam behind which the river takes on a bright blue-green color. Towering jagged rock formations crown the gorge much of the way, revealing a new world around each bend. I didn't realize the Dinaric Alps were so dramatic.

After a lot of switch-backs, the route leaves the river and continues on to Sarajevo high over numerous valleys, passing through over a hundred tunnels along the way. Many of the valleys contain towns, and as we passed over and around them it felt like we were in an airplane preparing for landing.