Generally people are quite surprised when they see I am travelling alone and think I am a) brave and b) presume I must get very lonely. In fact I think its the complete opposite - no one bloody leaves me alone! ( and I mean this positively). In the Balkans if you're on your own people seem to assume you therefore need someone to talk to. Within minutes of leaving the German girls a posh Montenegran woman who now randomly lives in Zurich was telling me about her life and insisted I take two bananas. While waiting for a bus to Dubrovnik involved an encounter with a very odd man who from what I could make out learnt English out a book, worked in the train station during the week, and at weekends masquerades as a taxi driver at the bus station (he offered me a lift which I declined). He however insisted I take his number so that next year me and all my friends can go stay with him (he'll drive us anywhere). In the course of my painfully long 30 minutes with him he managed to plan out a full trip we could do which includes a trip to the local archeology museum. Somehow 'Duka' also managed to take a photo of me in between saying his favourite word (and a general favourite of Bosnians) 'super' a lot. My lasting memory of Duka was me getting on the bus while he stood at the window saying 'I can see you 'super'. Maybe his number is one to bin...
On a tour to Mostar from Dubrovnik I met two English couples who found me travelling alone particularly perplexing - I explained that I was staying mainly in Youth Hostels so was never really alone. Later I overheard them dicussing this - with one explaining to the others that things are different now and these things called Youth Hostels allow young people to mix! So as you can see travelling alone is not really being alone. The arrival of my mother though would soon sort that! You see wanting a holiday, and since I was in a sunny part of the world it made sense for my mum to join me for my final week in Croatia.
A lover of the package holidays though this presented obvious difficulties as she would have to get to the Croatian town of Split without the aid of a tour guide. The night before I was bombarded by text with questions such as 'do they speak English?', 'will they accept credit cards?', and 'what is the weather like?'. I honestly believe she thought I was secretly taking her to Afghanistan.
By some sort of miracle though she did make it from the airport to the centre of Split, of course ten texts were sent on the bus (I explained afterwards this was roughly a 2 pound interchange) asking more questions such as 'how do I know when to get off?' and again 'do they speak English?'. I told her to get off when everyone else does and speak German to them. The silly woman then spent the journey learning German phrases!
Our hotel was conveniently located near the bus station so a short walk and we were there. I had spent the previous night in the Split 'Booze and Snooze' hostel that actually involved a lot less boozing and more snoozing than you would imagine (probably due to the signs everywhere informing you if you went to the clubs 'YOU WILL GET ROBBED'. Nice city then! So I had already checked us into the hotel before I met my mother, the woman at reception asked where my colleague was (I LOLed). I even managed to get all my washing done for a mere ten pounds (tourist prices!). My Mum was fresh off seeing Glee in London the day before (by herself bless her and was high like a 15 year old girl!) When I brought my Mum to the hotel I think it was evident business associates we were not, my Mum offered the idea though I could be her toy girl...
It's going to be a long few days....
Thursday 30 June 2011
Sunday 26 June 2011
Mostar, Americans with a bleach pen, Germans in a campervan, Montengerans, a broken exhaust, and a Dubrovnik sunset....
So leaving Sarajevo, the next stage of my travels involved a trip to Mostar, a small city near the south of Bosnia and Herzegovina that was quite badly damaged during the war including an ancient bridge that was rebuilt in 2002 and is now a UNESCO world heritage site...
Getting there of course involved another bus journey that being in Bosnia inevitably means more awful Bosnian music playing throughout the journey, lots more smoking breaks, and many eating very meaty smelling pastry. And of course whenever you sit down on a bus your IPod always runs out of battery (an engineering fault I swear) and I ate all my food ten minutes in (this is definitely just my fault).
In Mostar I stayed at a hostel that everyone in Sarajevo who had come from Mostar had been talking about, creating a definite air of mystery around it. It was another family run hostel with the owners living right beside, a brother and sister both in their 40s (who are a bit mad, Bata is huge and very loud while his sister looks crazy and instantly made me a sticker for my bed complete with mountains). To top this all off their mother cooks you breakfast in the morning, she speaks little english and does not ask you want you want for breakfast just puts a huge plate of food in front of you and keeps giving you more until you somehow escape, a lovely family but very eccentric.
Bata also runs a tour every couple of days that supplies you with a complete Mostar experience. This takes place in his mini-van, now technically this only has 8 seats but due to very lax Bosnian laws he somehow manages to get 14, you sit on laps and deck chairs in the boot (I am seriously not lying). In Bosnia drivers think you are insulting their driving if you put on a seatbelt! While bundled up in the van Bata then puts on his new favourite music which fits neatly under the genre 'turbo-folk', it needs to be heard to be believed! The tour took in some amazing waterfalls with pools you can swim in, Burek stops, and a visit to a lovely little Bosnian woman's house who gave us apple cake, coffee, and amazing fresh figs! So quite an tour all in the name of research!
Waterfall funs, of course I didn't jump!
It was on this tour that I met what are most definitely the most American Americans! Two were called Jay and John and were 'cali-boys' living in Newport (they were like have you seen The O.C? cause its exactly like that), we went out in the evening and they were both like omg you look so cute! While another group of Americans from Chicago carry a bleach pen around with them! The girl spilt a tiny bit of juice on her dress and was like omg who has a bleach pen, to which all the Americans held theirs out (apparently they don't leave the house without them!).
So until this point research had been reasonably successful. Mostar unfortunately planted two possible travel suggestions in my head. Firstly a Swedish Economist asked if I wanted to go hitch hiking to Montenegro with him and secondly two German girls in a campervan offered a trip to Montenegro with them...Faced with this sort of dillemma, I took one look at the slightly odd Sweed with a hilarious English accent then another at the two German girls and their very cool van and of course went with the Germans....
Chucking my luggage in the back of their van, off we went. Clearly though when they heard I was a geography student they made the mistake many do of presuming that means I study maps and am therefore the perfect map reader. So planted in the passenger seat I was expected to get us to Montenegro, 15 minutes in I ensured we had already been round Mostar 3 times but somehow I did manage to get us towards the border. Unforutunately this meant going up a lot of hills and one down side of the retro van is that is doesn't do hills in the heat very well and very quickly the poor engine needed a break. Quite used to this the Germans cope by having a picnic stop every time this happens complete with a picnic table from the boot, so beside the road we had an improptu lunch. With the engine cooler we could resume our border mission - my next failing was that I didn't realise there was such a thing as local border crossings which cannot be crossed by international tourists, so my short cut although scenic resulted in denied entry. At this point camping for the night seemed the best option which meant chucking all the bags in the front and sleeping in the back of their van. For them after 2 months this was very unexciting but for me it was a dream come true - I felt like something out of an indie road trip movie dream! Stopping beside a lake also meant that when we awoke, we jumped in the lake for a morning 'shower', the indie road trip dream just kept getting better and better!
Campervan funs
Border crossing number two was more successful although two German and one British passports did make them slightly suspicious but we were allowed in AND I got another stamp. Montenegro was definitely worth the effort as the countryside is beautiful, I was on IPod DJ duty making it a very tuneful drive obv! One of the German girl's boyfriend was arriving that day so we had to head to the capital Podgerica to fetch him from the airport. Although capital cities are usually exciting places to go, the guide book describes this one as 'nothing special and not worth visiting unless you find therefore there' so worth a visit! Laundry and internet were the main concerns not culture however so Podgerica would suffice, however the furthest we got with laundry was an offer to either dry clean or buy a washing machine so we gave that a miss. With the aid of the relic of a netbook I got off ebay for £99 (this thing is seriously so slow you want to hurl it out the window) we did manage to make brief internet contact while sitting in the swishest cafe in Podgerica (not saying much).
Now it is at this point things started getting slightly interesting, of course running late for the airport pick-up (the girls joked it was their only appointment in two months and typically they were running late). Due to this stress the van was reversed into a bollard and five minutes later the whole exhaust system fell onto the road. Definitely an allowed situation to bite my nails I felt. Standing in a dodgy capital city with two German girls and an exhaustless van was not really how I planned spending my Wednesday and it was of course in the middle of this my mum rang. Not through worry of course but to inform me her Glee tickets had arrived, she wasn't particularly interested in my predicament. The German girls presumed I had sent some sort of plea to her but I assured them Glee was the more pressing issue for her and 'as long as I was having fun'...
By some odd twist of fate a nearby nail salon provided the help required, not through free manicures but one of the nail techincians' brother and father fixed cars and if we waited until she finished work we could follow her to her house... So we drank beer, Lea's boyfriend got a taxi to us, and a few hours later we were following this woman in a very noisy van to her house...`
Now Bosnians are known for being hospitable and as I discovered being offered coffee was not too unusual but having only been in cities this hospitablity is not as noticable. Whereas in the Montengeran suburbs it was very clear, when we arrived we were immediately sat down in the house while the whole family peered round at the new arrivals! Then we were offered alcohol of course in the form of strong home made spirits, called roykia, everyone knows someone who makes it and the alcohol content always varies but it smelt pretty strong! Then we were given coffee and then amazingly even though we were in the middle of nowhere the laptop appeared asking if we were all on facebook! So my first Montenegran friends are now connected via the medium of the internet...
The other thing you notice in the Balkans is that people are very proud of where they live even if to the untrained eye it looks like a dump... While the Dad fixed the car the crazy brother and sister took us on a tour of the local hot spots, firstly a waterfall (bit of limestone scenery for the geographers). I must add here that it was dark and pretty slippy but using their mobile phones they were determined we saw! To be honest it was so dark I saw nothing but hey ho they tried! Next we went to some abandoned wedding venue to look over the city, again saw nothing but I am sure it could be nice! By now we were pushing midnight and the car was amazingly fixed so we presumed freedom was nigh! Of course not, its dinner time in Montenegro and even though all shops were closed the brother knocked on the bakery door until they opened. Despite insisting we weren't hungry we were all told we were going to eat the food (the sister was slightly mental and socially retatarded despite meaning well!). So back home the whole family gathered round to watch us eat the very greasy pastry covered cheese and apple cake, shouting MAKE whenever we stopped. Weird hospitality I will give them that! I must also add that for some reason the brother and sister kept mentioning Hitler to the Germans which was hilarious for me but did create an awkward atmosphere they seemed oblivious to! So at this point we were like surely we can leave but OH NO, we had to now stay the night as it was 1am! The weird sister tried making us sleep in her bed but we managed to stop her and all slept in the brother's room...
The next morning after more hours of being forced to talk and eat food and several photo opportunities we finally managed our escape. I must add though that overbearing as this family were they did have very good intentions and most importantly fixed the car completely FREE - you would not get that in Britain for sure!
So there we go after a bit of Montenegran hospitality the road trip could continue, first stop the beach. We managed to rent an apartment on the very beautiful coast pretty cheap and had a day lounging beside the Adriatic Sea and exploring the pretty city of Kotor before I had to get a bus to Durbrovnik, where now I am sitting writing this at a very over priced bar (my iced tea is 4 pounds) but I am definitely paying for the view of the sun going down over the city walls... Life is not so bad eh...
Dubrovnik sunset...
Sunday 19 June 2011
FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD
After all this researching what you really need is a good feed! Unfortunately announcing your vegetarian in Bosnia is similar to saying you have a very contagious skin infection: you are met with disgust, horror, and no one knows how to help you. Here they eat Chavabi (a sausage meet kebab type thing) like it's coming out of their ears, chavabi for breakfast, lunch, late night snack. There is obviously no McDonalds here (nor Starbucks!) just McChavabi as they joke - LOL. A McDonalds is opening in Sarajevo in a few weeks though which is causing something of a stir, the Bosnians are all joking that they are charging 2 euros for this little burger (compared to a chavabi this is ridiculously over-priced). But think about it, McDonalds is without a doubt something a concept known throughout the world so imagine if suddenly one opens near you and you have never been able to try one - the queue will be enormous I predict!
One vegetarian option, however, is a sort of pastry thing that is usually filled with meat and called a Burek but can also be filled with cheese, spinach, or potato. Good as it is, its greasiness almost pours out of your skin so it is not really a long term option. One restaurant told me they had nothing for me while when I went into another and announced Ja sam vegetarijanka (you can probs translate yourself) they laughed, maybe at my pronunciation also!
Although definitely possible thanks to lots of bakeries and green grocers this is not vegetarian country; in Sarajevo one vegetarian restaurant does exist but at 3 pounds for a main is considered pretty pricey, a god send for me however. I was told that one girl was travelling round the Balkans writing a vegetarian food blog which sounds an intriguing idea as you would certainly find the weird and wonderful.
One thing I will say about the Bosnians is that there are incredibly friendly and giving, anyone you meet will offer you coffee and insist on paying. They always believe in sharing when they have lots so you can share back when you have lots - a lovely attitude but one that is probably very alien to most students!
One vegetarian option, however, is a sort of pastry thing that is usually filled with meat and called a Burek but can also be filled with cheese, spinach, or potato. Good as it is, its greasiness almost pours out of your skin so it is not really a long term option. One restaurant told me they had nothing for me while when I went into another and announced Ja sam vegetarijanka (you can probs translate yourself) they laughed, maybe at my pronunciation also!
Although definitely possible thanks to lots of bakeries and green grocers this is not vegetarian country; in Sarajevo one vegetarian restaurant does exist but at 3 pounds for a main is considered pretty pricey, a god send for me however. I was told that one girl was travelling round the Balkans writing a vegetarian food blog which sounds an intriguing idea as you would certainly find the weird and wonderful.
One thing I will say about the Bosnians is that there are incredibly friendly and giving, anyone you meet will offer you coffee and insist on paying. They always believe in sharing when they have lots so you can share back when you have lots - a lovely attitude but one that is probably very alien to most students!
dark versus eco-tourism in Sarajevo
So aside from drinking coffee, finding 40p dresses, and hitting the salsa hotspots I am supposed to be attempting to discover if dark tourism in Bosnia even exists...
Well the city clearly has a dark past, it was held hostage during the early 90s when the Bosnian war took place when the Serbs tried to take control over Bosnia. Sarajevo is in a valley with huge hills surrounding it, the Serbs were therefore able to stand on the hills and through sniper fire hold the city under seige. This was near on twenty years ago and of course the city has largely rebuilt itself but there are still damaged buildings covered in bullet holes, burned out houses, and the edges of the city are still very much underdeveloped.
To find out why tourists are in Sarajevo has involved some stealth detective work from myself! (mainly as I am too shy to really approach people and ask directly if they are here because of the war. I am basically a war psychologist finding myself sitting in the youth hostel nodding along while asking 'but WHAT brought you here?', 'do you know about the war?' and 'what sights most interest you here'. Clearly I am not that subtle as most people have asked why I am asking so many questions (oops), I am of course happy to tell when people ask, I just don't want to look like some weird 19 year old scottish researcher
Most people only travel briefly through Sarajevo for say two days on their way to Croatia, Serbia, Montenegro or beyond and hence only have time to see the most important stuff that is mainly to do with the war, such as the Tunnel Museum or bombed out buildings. Some people know about the war and have come here because of that but mostly they heard Sarajevo was a fun city came here and then wanted to learn about the war as they felt ignorant (mostly Americans in this category!). All of the tour guides I have spoken to have also in some way been directly involved in the war, since it was less than 20 years ago virtually everyone in the city lived through the seige (an odd thought when you walk around). Tour guides can describe having nothing to eat, not being able to attend school and living in their basements, which is fascinating for tourists.
One of the most popular sites, the Tunnel Museum, marks the site of the entrance to a tunnel that was built during the war to get food and weapons in and out of the city and despite being little more than a hut is one of the major attractions. The lady who owned the house during the seige helped many soldiers and people and these days (thanks to a short movie) is a bit of a local hero. I watched some Americans speaking to her and they were like 'omg you are inspiring, can we have your photo, here have a t-shirt from Denver, Colorado, and what can our country do to help you?'. Maybe they were ambassadors (very unlikely) but anyway she spoke no English! I have been to this museum (in 3 different disguises) three times now.
The Tunnel, which I am probably equipped to take tour groups round now...
The problem then with tourism in Bosnia is that people only stay long enough to see the essential 'dark tourism' sites. I heard the war tourists described as the worst kind, one tour guide said a Turkish woman had come up to her and announced all she wanted to see was bombed out buildings, while others think they will get shot in Sarajevo. However, the scenery is amazing. One day I took a walk up the hills near Sarajevo to a waterfall; as these sites are not that developed getting there is something of a trek with no signs. But the waterfall although being a trickle is the highest in Eastern Europe (I said in Europe to a Norwegian man who assured me it was not!). Nonetheless it was beautiful. Randomly there was a little mountain cabin there which was half way between the most idllyic hut in the world and a scene out of the horror Hostel. I had some stew thing and tea there and thankfully I wasn't drugged and it was one of the remotest meals I have had for sure.
Highest Waterfall (vodapad) in 'Eastern' Europe and the mountain hut
While another day I went to the Sutjeska National Park, which again is horrendously hard to get to, but very beautiful with huge green mountains and a lake where we had a picnic lunch. The only downside to the day was the mosquitos who literally ate me alive. When I get bitten for some reason the area swells up, I look a tad like Mr Blobby right now, at the hostel the owners were very worried it was bedbugs! Definitely not I assured them, but perhaps I could have got a discount in hindsight!
Sujeska National Park and Action Woman apparently!
Bosnia certainly has a long way to go in terms of eco and war tourism therefore. People want their country to be remembered for its scenery while any money the country can make from tourism is also essential.... Wherever you go though it is one amazing country!
Well the city clearly has a dark past, it was held hostage during the early 90s when the Bosnian war took place when the Serbs tried to take control over Bosnia. Sarajevo is in a valley with huge hills surrounding it, the Serbs were therefore able to stand on the hills and through sniper fire hold the city under seige. This was near on twenty years ago and of course the city has largely rebuilt itself but there are still damaged buildings covered in bullet holes, burned out houses, and the edges of the city are still very much underdeveloped.
To find out why tourists are in Sarajevo has involved some stealth detective work from myself! (mainly as I am too shy to really approach people and ask directly if they are here because of the war. I am basically a war psychologist finding myself sitting in the youth hostel nodding along while asking 'but WHAT brought you here?', 'do you know about the war?' and 'what sights most interest you here'. Clearly I am not that subtle as most people have asked why I am asking so many questions (oops), I am of course happy to tell when people ask, I just don't want to look like some weird 19 year old scottish researcher
Most people only travel briefly through Sarajevo for say two days on their way to Croatia, Serbia, Montenegro or beyond and hence only have time to see the most important stuff that is mainly to do with the war, such as the Tunnel Museum or bombed out buildings. Some people know about the war and have come here because of that but mostly they heard Sarajevo was a fun city came here and then wanted to learn about the war as they felt ignorant (mostly Americans in this category!). All of the tour guides I have spoken to have also in some way been directly involved in the war, since it was less than 20 years ago virtually everyone in the city lived through the seige (an odd thought when you walk around). Tour guides can describe having nothing to eat, not being able to attend school and living in their basements, which is fascinating for tourists.
One of the most popular sites, the Tunnel Museum, marks the site of the entrance to a tunnel that was built during the war to get food and weapons in and out of the city and despite being little more than a hut is one of the major attractions. The lady who owned the house during the seige helped many soldiers and people and these days (thanks to a short movie) is a bit of a local hero. I watched some Americans speaking to her and they were like 'omg you are inspiring, can we have your photo, here have a t-shirt from Denver, Colorado, and what can our country do to help you?'. Maybe they were ambassadors (very unlikely) but anyway she spoke no English! I have been to this museum (in 3 different disguises) three times now.
The problem then with tourism in Bosnia is that people only stay long enough to see the essential 'dark tourism' sites. I heard the war tourists described as the worst kind, one tour guide said a Turkish woman had come up to her and announced all she wanted to see was bombed out buildings, while others think they will get shot in Sarajevo. However, the scenery is amazing. One day I took a walk up the hills near Sarajevo to a waterfall; as these sites are not that developed getting there is something of a trek with no signs. But the waterfall although being a trickle is the highest in Eastern Europe (I said in Europe to a Norwegian man who assured me it was not!). Nonetheless it was beautiful. Randomly there was a little mountain cabin there which was half way between the most idllyic hut in the world and a scene out of the horror Hostel. I had some stew thing and tea there and thankfully I wasn't drugged and it was one of the remotest meals I have had for sure.
While another day I went to the Sutjeska National Park, which again is horrendously hard to get to, but very beautiful with huge green mountains and a lake where we had a picnic lunch. The only downside to the day was the mosquitos who literally ate me alive. When I get bitten for some reason the area swells up, I look a tad like Mr Blobby right now, at the hostel the owners were very worried it was bedbugs! Definitely not I assured them, but perhaps I could have got a discount in hindsight!
Bosnia certainly has a long way to go in terms of eco and war tourism therefore. People want their country to be remembered for its scenery while any money the country can make from tourism is also essential.... Wherever you go though it is one amazing country!
Thursday 16 June 2011
one small (ish) post for one big city
Arriving in Sarajevo is an incredibly bizarre yet exciting experience. My first challenge was getting to the extremely Scottish sounding Haris Youth Hostel. Still unrecovered from my nightmarish night bus journey, I decided that the easiest option would be a taxi and being Eastern Europe I figured it couldn't be that expensive. I, however, lacked both the ability to speak Bosnian and any Bosnian currency - a five euro note, and a combination of pointing, four Bosnian taxi drivers and the Bosnian I learnt on the bus soon sorted that and before I knew it I was being rushed off at high speed. I was then promptly dropped off in a suspiciously residential area with no sign of a youth hostel - the taxi driver happily took my note, smilled, nodded, and walked off.
After a brief panic and wee scout around - the youth hostel appeared. Basically a converted house - you instantly feel like you're just staying at someone's home. The owner started the youth hostel when he was 15, by inviting people he met on the bus back home. Soon her was bringing home more and more to the point that he eventually moved his family out of a few rooms of their house and made a small youth hostel for them that he aptly named after himself. Haris is now 23 and the hostel has expanded so that his family have all been squeezed into one little room.
As you can imagine Haris is quite a character and is one of those people who always 'knows someone' and can sort you out with anything. His sister cooked us breakfast one morning which consisted of potato scone type doughnut things (delicious) with jam and cream cheese AND someone even does your washing which delivers your clothes back the nicest they will ever be. Everyone books this hostel and ends up staying later; the motto seems to be 'one more night'. So far I am on my sixth after just booking two...
When the home from home in the youth hostel is left; Sarajevo just gets better and better especially for those who love a bargain. I am unfortunately developing a name for myself asking constantly how much everything cost and completely obsessing myself with prices. But really this city excels itself: properly good ice cream is about 40p for a scoop, I have yet to pay more than 50p for a good Bosnian coffee, a bag of apples is like 60p, and best of all are the second hand shops. I now possess a 40p dress - YES 40p - AND the world's most multi-coloured and safari themed jumpsuit. In Bosnian this would be called a kombinezon and I would say dorbo mi stoje (suits me well) ;-). The 40p dress I have worn for the past three days and everyone now knows how much it cost me!
Markale Market and the Kombinezon (ignore the scratches on the camera lens!)
Even with the bargain prices, the abundance of coffee shops, banks and bizzarly opticians sorts you right out. Everyone in Bosnia likes to prolong their coffee experience as long as possible so having a coffee is a proper sit down, some Americans were complaning that they couldn't get a take out coffee - an idea that seems hilarious here! Fortunately though sitting down for your coffee means you very often get a bit or turkish delight and the cake selection is always good - they love nutella for some reason! While my experience in the bank was another awkward Bosnian moment; despite there being a bank every 3 metres I managed to find the only one with a queue. The 20 people behind me were not happy that I had a bunch of Traveller's Cheques that required all the cashiers and the bank manager to work out how to exchange. I think using traveller's cheques these days is similar to asking to send a telegram. To seek his revenge the cashier ensured my notes were in 50 marks (the equivalent of being handed 50 pound notes when everything you buy is a penny sweet).
The Bosnians have it sorted...
Drinking here is another cheap and exciting affar; Bosnia's spirit of choice is something called rakija which comes in every flavour under the sun. Plum rakija in hand we went to a bar in an old cinema which was full of Bosnian's dancing along to a live band that got more lively as the beer flowed. Afterwards of course we went to the traditional Bosnian Salsa Club (where is the market for these?!) that had salsa remixes of classics such as U2. My amazing dance moves were of course employed as who can resist Latino music!
Being abroad (especially after rakija) also makes accents more important, I bumped into another Scot (very exciting!) which means eventually I can be understood when using words such as 'wee' and we can speak quickly. Apparently when speaking together we are uncomprehensible. The word steaming is slowly becoming a Bosnian favourite....
So there we go a little bit of Sarajevo in a very small space....
After a brief panic and wee scout around - the youth hostel appeared. Basically a converted house - you instantly feel like you're just staying at someone's home. The owner started the youth hostel when he was 15, by inviting people he met on the bus back home. Soon her was bringing home more and more to the point that he eventually moved his family out of a few rooms of their house and made a small youth hostel for them that he aptly named after himself. Haris is now 23 and the hostel has expanded so that his family have all been squeezed into one little room.
As you can imagine Haris is quite a character and is one of those people who always 'knows someone' and can sort you out with anything. His sister cooked us breakfast one morning which consisted of potato scone type doughnut things (delicious) with jam and cream cheese AND someone even does your washing which delivers your clothes back the nicest they will ever be. Everyone books this hostel and ends up staying later; the motto seems to be 'one more night'. So far I am on my sixth after just booking two...
When the home from home in the youth hostel is left; Sarajevo just gets better and better especially for those who love a bargain. I am unfortunately developing a name for myself asking constantly how much everything cost and completely obsessing myself with prices. But really this city excels itself: properly good ice cream is about 40p for a scoop, I have yet to pay more than 50p for a good Bosnian coffee, a bag of apples is like 60p, and best of all are the second hand shops. I now possess a 40p dress - YES 40p - AND the world's most multi-coloured and safari themed jumpsuit. In Bosnian this would be called a kombinezon and I would say dorbo mi stoje (suits me well) ;-). The 40p dress I have worn for the past three days and everyone now knows how much it cost me!
Even with the bargain prices, the abundance of coffee shops, banks and bizzarly opticians sorts you right out. Everyone in Bosnia likes to prolong their coffee experience as long as possible so having a coffee is a proper sit down, some Americans were complaning that they couldn't get a take out coffee - an idea that seems hilarious here! Fortunately though sitting down for your coffee means you very often get a bit or turkish delight and the cake selection is always good - they love nutella for some reason! While my experience in the bank was another awkward Bosnian moment; despite there being a bank every 3 metres I managed to find the only one with a queue. The 20 people behind me were not happy that I had a bunch of Traveller's Cheques that required all the cashiers and the bank manager to work out how to exchange. I think using traveller's cheques these days is similar to asking to send a telegram. To seek his revenge the cashier ensured my notes were in 50 marks (the equivalent of being handed 50 pound notes when everything you buy is a penny sweet).
Drinking here is another cheap and exciting affar; Bosnia's spirit of choice is something called rakija which comes in every flavour under the sun. Plum rakija in hand we went to a bar in an old cinema which was full of Bosnian's dancing along to a live band that got more lively as the beer flowed. Afterwards of course we went to the traditional Bosnian Salsa Club (where is the market for these?!) that had salsa remixes of classics such as U2. My amazing dance moves were of course employed as who can resist Latino music!
Being abroad (especially after rakija) also makes accents more important, I bumped into another Scot (very exciting!) which means eventually I can be understood when using words such as 'wee' and we can speak quickly. Apparently when speaking together we are uncomprehensible. The word steaming is slowly becoming a Bosnian favourite....
So there we go a little bit of Sarajevo in a very small space....
Tuesday 14 June 2011
Finding the meaning of the term awkward on a night bus from Munich to Sarajevo...
Believe me - never again will I fall into the trap of the many who describe literally everything as awkward (ok maybe a few turtle motions are allowed) as I have now found a situation that truely warranted the word - the night bus from Munich to Sarajevo. At the time of booking, the 15 hour night bus journey seemed an amusing and exciting prospect but getting on the bus at 7pm the reality of sitting in a seat for over half a day sinks in a bit.
This was made worse by the fact I was the only Brit and definitely the only person who didn't speak German or Bosnian resulting in conversational problems and many an awkward glance. The first communication issue was when the bus stopped (with Bosnians on board this meant every hour as they seem to live on coffee and cigarettes) as the driver announced in some language how long the bus would stop for. I therefore just had to guess and hope I made it back on time, unreasuringly the driver also didn't seem that keen on counting who was on board.
This awkwardness reached its peak at the 7am breakfast stop - sitting alone in a cafe with a coffee you had somehow motioned for while shoving Euros in the waiter's face as Bosnians stared was particularly memorable. Maybe writing this as I sit is maybe not a good plan either, I am going to be accused of being a spy soon.
The other factor I had not considered was that Bosnians sure do love their traditional music, so much so that even on an overnight bus it is played constantly. Now a day off that bus if I try really hard I can still just about hear it!
Of course being me, embarrassment on this bus was almost certain and occurred about 9am (14 hours in) when I attempted to use the toilet (failed to lock it) and had a Bosnian walk in on me and allow me to flash the whole bus. They laughed and shouted 'engleski', to be honest I was most upset that they considered me English ;-).
So all in all I saved some money and maybe was a little safer travelling by bus but did lose my dignity....
This was made worse by the fact I was the only Brit and definitely the only person who didn't speak German or Bosnian resulting in conversational problems and many an awkward glance. The first communication issue was when the bus stopped (with Bosnians on board this meant every hour as they seem to live on coffee and cigarettes) as the driver announced in some language how long the bus would stop for. I therefore just had to guess and hope I made it back on time, unreasuringly the driver also didn't seem that keen on counting who was on board.
This awkwardness reached its peak at the 7am breakfast stop - sitting alone in a cafe with a coffee you had somehow motioned for while shoving Euros in the waiter's face as Bosnians stared was particularly memorable. Maybe writing this as I sit is maybe not a good plan either, I am going to be accused of being a spy soon.
The other factor I had not considered was that Bosnians sure do love their traditional music, so much so that even on an overnight bus it is played constantly. Now a day off that bus if I try really hard I can still just about hear it!
Of course being me, embarrassment on this bus was almost certain and occurred about 9am (14 hours in) when I attempted to use the toilet (failed to lock it) and had a Bosnian walk in on me and allow me to flash the whole bus. They laughed and shouted 'engleski', to be honest I was most upset that they considered me English ;-).
So all in all I saved some money and maybe was a little safer travelling by bus but did lose my dignity....
Sunday 12 June 2011
You can surf in Munich?
One of the lesser known facts about Munich I guess is that you can surf there, in the middle of the Englisch Garten (English Garden ;-) ) sits a river with an artificial wave in it. This is not just any wave mind but the 'perfect wave' and despite being singular and always the same, surfers from all over the world come to surf it - even Jack Johnson. On a busy Saturday it also becomes quite full of tourists watching the surfers (in their tight wetsuits I can understand the attraction!).
In case you failed to believe me!h
Munich also has one of the most famous beer halls in Germany where for half your arm you can watch a band clad entirely in laderhousen serenade you while you drink with the masses. This I am informed is just a very small taster of the crazyness of Oktoberfest. Of course the British have even managed to infiltrate here, I bumped into a man who replied with 'it's alright sweetchecks' in a horrible English accent - and they wonder why the rest of Europe hates them....
A Laderhosened out band in the Beer Hall and Cari holding the best thing about Germany - giant pretzels!
My final glimpse of Munich was the English language cinema which every week at 11.15pm shows a sneak preview of a film not out for another week or so in germany, this seemed quite an exciting propect as we decided that it could even be Harry Potter ( this was a ridiculous guess I agree). It was Kung Fu Panda II which wow did the german's love (despite their sometimes negative image they really know how to let go when cartoon comedy comes along! It was also reasurring to see that when the Breaking Dawn trailer came on they too were wooping at Jacob's chest and gazing at R-Patz ( proof that Twilight brings the world together I say).
The end of Munich also signals the 15 hour bus ride I must face to hit Sarajevo; I still cannot believe such a bus exists but apparently you can travel anywhere quite literally from Munich...
Munich also has one of the most famous beer halls in Germany where for half your arm you can watch a band clad entirely in laderhousen serenade you while you drink with the masses. This I am informed is just a very small taster of the crazyness of Oktoberfest. Of course the British have even managed to infiltrate here, I bumped into a man who replied with 'it's alright sweetchecks' in a horrible English accent - and they wonder why the rest of Europe hates them....
My final glimpse of Munich was the English language cinema which every week at 11.15pm shows a sneak preview of a film not out for another week or so in germany, this seemed quite an exciting propect as we decided that it could even be Harry Potter ( this was a ridiculous guess I agree). It was Kung Fu Panda II which wow did the german's love (despite their sometimes negative image they really know how to let go when cartoon comedy comes along! It was also reasurring to see that when the Breaking Dawn trailer came on they too were wooping at Jacob's chest and gazing at R-Patz ( proof that Twilight brings the world together I say).
The end of Munich also signals the 15 hour bus ride I must face to hit Sarajevo; I still cannot believe such a bus exists but apparently you can travel anywhere quite literally from Munich...
a little spot of climbing...
So far Munich's highlight has been without a doubt the climbing mecca we made our way to - with Cari at the wheel we did have a few mishaps involving me map reading in german (whoever thought this a good idea), attempting a very illegal U turn and hitting an angry German man's car while he watched (the german accent he employed was particularly memorable). I was pretty glad it wasn't me driving I must admit, always easier to criticise from the passenger seat. After making it to the wall though it was worth it - even those of you who don't climb would be impressed by the multi-facetated selection of options - you can climb outside, inside, holds, fake walls, bouldering AND a children's play wall thing (a personal favourite!) AND to top it all off the cafe upstairs sells pretzels and coffee! A perfect evening in my eyes.
Clearly not climbed out the next day we decided to hit the German alps and attempt some sport climbing. Conditions were not exactly perfect but as this was our only chance we went for it so took the gondola up the mountain. Despite our positive attitude as the gondola went further up the hill the scenery in front instead of looking like the closing scenes from The Sound of Music got whiter and whiter until the gondola seemed to be heading to nowhere. Getting to the top, the Alps were sort of seeable so we started on a wee taster walk; let me tell you though the cows in the Alps actually wear dumbells round their necks and the sheep have floppy ears so I was smitten with the Alps anyway! Despite leaving the guidebook in the car we did manage to find what looked like bolts and hence using the guessing game gave some of the bolted sport routes a go. Everything in the Alps seems to be very quaint and stereotypical, even the routes have cute wee signs at the bottom. However, the incoming mist and heavy levels of dew on the ground did defeat us slightly but hey technically we climbed in the Alps.
And of course the best thing about doing any form of exercise is the reward at the end. At the bottom of the gondola, almost as if it were a mirage, was a perfectly quaint German cafe that was able to serve hot chocolate, pretzels, spargel soup (white asparagus soup, my new favourite meal) complete with whipped cream on top (wasn't feeling this so much) and of course apple strudel. A very successful alpine trip I say.
Apple Studel ;-)
Clearly not climbed out the next day we decided to hit the German alps and attempt some sport climbing. Conditions were not exactly perfect but as this was our only chance we went for it so took the gondola up the mountain. Despite our positive attitude as the gondola went further up the hill the scenery in front instead of looking like the closing scenes from The Sound of Music got whiter and whiter until the gondola seemed to be heading to nowhere. Getting to the top, the Alps were sort of seeable so we started on a wee taster walk; let me tell you though the cows in the Alps actually wear dumbells round their necks and the sheep have floppy ears so I was smitten with the Alps anyway! Despite leaving the guidebook in the car we did manage to find what looked like bolts and hence using the guessing game gave some of the bolted sport routes a go. Everything in the Alps seems to be very quaint and stereotypical, even the routes have cute wee signs at the bottom. However, the incoming mist and heavy levels of dew on the ground did defeat us slightly but hey technically we climbed in the Alps.
The gondola to nowhere; quaint signage; misty crags; cows; and a floppy sheep.
Friday 10 June 2011
First Munich then THE WORLD (almost)
The moment I am sure you have all been eagerly awaiting has arrived - the blogging returns. The night before my departure was of course a very hectic affair, especially with interjections from my mother asking for a passport photo in case my body needs identifying - said in a proper Glaswegian dead pan accent of course: 'Now Olivia you just never know'. My major worries were not being able to get the Guardian at a good price every day but its good to know my mother at least has all bases covered.
The next major issue was that I had booked a flight from Edinburgh airport that left at 6.55, I had clearly forgotten at the time of booking that I do actually live in Glasgow where sadly public transport is not 24 hour nor is it that near Edinburgh really. After many briberies were considered, my dad was the saving grace driving me over at 'silly o'clock'. Problem number two was encountered at the Ryaniar check in desk; walking up to a Ryanair check out with a rucksack that was definitely 19kg an hour ago and 'hand baggage' in the form of a handbag that looks ready to explode at any moment was always going to receive raised eyebrows. Luckily, with a very leniant check in girl (an impressive feat for 6am) and some sneaky go-ahead bar reshuffeling I was good to go. The downsides of such a large handbag was firstly getting it through security, it inevitably set the scanners off the security staff took one look at it, however, shoved some paper in it and hastily declared it 'bomb free' or some more politically correct term ( good to see security measures aren't slipping). So with not even one minute to spare I ran to board an airplane that would hopefully involve some planning. A glance at the guidebook informed me that actually Ryanair's 'Munich' airport was nowhere near Munich but somewhere called Memminghem, another problem to solve, however I did manage to learn a few German words on the plane, in between constant Ryanair advertising, so with bitta dank shouold under my belt off Ryanair spat me somewhere nearish Munich.
Entering Germany right now is an E-Coli risk I hear, so the night before I made sure I stocked up on salad for dinner and brought plenty of fruit with me. This was partly a money saving measure also but did contribute majorly to the weight I now realise. As I sat on the bus to Munich eating my cucumber sandwich a poor choice made hastily this morning I agree, I realised brandashing my British cucumber sandwiches could come back to haunt me if it has turned out to be a German cucumber and I ironically brought E-Coli back in - now that would be awkward! The risks of travelling eh. But at least I am away from the airport without a scene from the Liam Neeson classic occurring.
With a few hours in a surprisingly rainy Munich, I feel this may be a recurrent theme, I decided that being 'A Dark Tourist' I should live up to my name and went up to visit Dachau. After recently visiting Auschwitz, Dachau was a very interesting but different experience that had a definite German identity to it - its main visitors are German school children and completely funded by the German Government who seem keen to explain what happened and ensure Germany as a nation is not necessarily held to blame.
My first day as a dark tourist had tired me out majorly so after being rescued from Munich town centre, a quick and essential trip to the supermarket (first stop apple puree) was required before definite bed time. After a 'round the clock' sleep plus a few sneaky hours ;-). My second day in Munich was spent well in Munich - after a very continental breakfast, Cari and I cycled (again very continentally) to the train station to get on a very continental uberbahn to the city centre for pretzel time (oh could we have been anymore continental. I also made the radical decision to with Cari by my side I disregarded the guide book in a moment of crazyness leaving it at home as basically I now had the real living deal. We found our way to a Jewish museum that surprisingly was very un-holocaust like but an exhibition on Jews in the media did prove that the German's do actually joke about Hitler and can now be a bit more retrospective.
The fruit and vegetable market was still surpringly boyant and on the surface e-coli free, I even ate an unwashed apple - a reckless decision I worry will come back to haunt me in a few days time. Munich also features some very beautiful cathedrals and no less than 3 American Apparels. We even had more pretzels than is recommended and dressed up in Laderhosen. Munich is Germany complete with all stereotypes - including some hilarious accents!
So far then a pretty successful beginning!
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