Days 10 - 11
 

Day 10: Bosnia and Herezgovina

We spent most of the day on the road and I didn't write about it because I was trying to catch up with Dubrovnik and Kotor. By the time I wrote all that, my battery on my iPad was dead!

The border between Croatia had a long line of busses, so we got in line and waited over an hour to pass.  I didn't mind as I was writing.

This is the little stand where we stopped and bought the mandarins on our trip across Herzegovina.  The picture below right is a jar with nuts (walnuts and almonds) with pomegranate and honey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Herzegovina area is much like California in that it is a huge agricultural valley.  Mainly, they have olives, citrus, pomegranates, dates, and more.  They irrigate quite differently than we do.  It was a swamp, and instead of reclaiming it like we did, they make many rows of ditches and farm between them… they even fish in between the ditches.  We were to stop at one of the big tourist places to go to the bathroom, and there must have been twenty buses there.  We said we didn't want to stop and we were ok to go further.  We stopped at a small cafe instead, as nobody was there.  They were expecting a bus from England so they were there as we came in, serenading us.  They were surprised that we were Americans and had stopped, so while we had a Coke zero, coffee, or beer they played American folk songs for us.  When it was time for us to go, the other bus was just about to arrive.  It was a great stop.  Vladka said that they had never had that experience. 

We gave Vladka a knitted cap and scarf that Janet had made and she was just blown away.  She couldn't believe we gave it to her. By then we were in the Bosnia's mountains.  It is very beautiful, and the weather is just perfect for us... cooled a bit, but still not too cold.  We definitely brought too warm of clothes as we believed it to be 50 degrees, and it's getting up in the eighties. 

As we drove along, Janet showed Vlaka the Travel John she brought that you can use when the bathrooms are bad or you are stuck in a car etc.  Vlaka was so amazed and then she got up and started acting like she was the flight attendant, pointing out the exits and what to do in case of an accident, including use of the 28 ounce Travel John. We all laughed so hard our sides ached!

Our next stop was in Mostar for lunch. We ate in a great restaurant in the market/bazaar area.  There were many neat shopping places, but we had little time, and Vladka promised us time later with good shopping.  Our lunch was wonderful.

 

First we had salad served family style with a wonderful cheese pie thing and lots of cheese and meats, then they brought bread and our little individual metal covered casserole dishes which contained rice and a delicious beefy-type of stew from the area.  It had very good spices and sauces.  I'm quite sure Joan will get the recipe.  Next came the dessert... sort of a ladyfingers soaked in honey... definitely not on the Weight Watcher program! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last, but to me the worst, was the coffee.  It looked like Turkish coffee, but she said it was made very different and that the Bosnians would be upset if we called it Turkish.  I took one sip and it turned my face into such contortions I thought I'd never get the taste away... even after gargling with water.  Everyone but Janet and I loved it so I gave mine to Michael. 

 

 

It was all on a darling little tray with sugar, pitcher and cup, all in tooled brass.  It is the most bought souvenir here.  I will pass!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We walked down to see the famous bridge and take pictures, and then walked on the bridge and back to the bus.  This bridge was destroyed along with so many beautiful buildings during the war in 1992.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This young lad was enjoying the water below the bridge. The bazaar was near where we ate our meal. 

 

This bridge was a critical element in the transportation system in the area. Tito's men blew up the bridge as they were leaving the area, hoping the soldiers on the opposite side would assume Tito's men were indeed leaving. However, as depicted in this model of the bridge, Tito's men climbed back to fight again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This model of the bridge is in a building with a large model railroad that is near the actual  bridge. Also nearby is this train that used to cross that destroyed bridge.

 

Also in that building are these dioramas of life and times of the area from days gone by.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We left, and our next stop, an hour or so later, was where the people were surrounded by the German forces in WWII. While we were taking pictures, the guy that was the docent at the museum came and invited us into the museum.  He gave us a wonderful lecture in Bosnian which Vladka interpreted.  We left with a better understanding, and lots of pictures.  Vladka said the museum has always been closed in her ten years with OAT.  The docent had stayed to give a program to some students and saw us outside by the river.  So lucky are we! From there it was on to Sarejevo, and that is where we ended up yesterday. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our hotel is quite amazing.  We have a huge bedroom, a big living room, a balcony, and a bathroom with two sinks, toilet, bidet, huge two-person bath (complete with headrests) and a shower big enough for a family! It is about 20 by 35 feet in size!

 

 

 

Tonight we go to eat with a family. I will tell you about today in another chapter.

 

Until then.....

 

Grove and the gang

 

 

 

Day 11: Sarejevo

I promised yesterday that I would write about our time in Sarejevo.   

 

 

Chris, one of our trip mates, got a kidney stone here and in the night Vladja took her and Dick to the hospital.  They treated her and sent her back to the hotel, but sadly they missed this city. They missed all of Sarajevo, but thankfully they are with us on the bus for our next adventure.

 

 

Our hotel was right in the middle of things. It was only a few blocks to the middle of town where everything was happening. One half is all western... modern, selling western stuff: fancy clothes, phones, and fresh squeezed Pomegranate juice and the like.  The eastern side are all the old ottoman style selling brass, silk, Turkish gods-eye jewelry, and foods of this area. 

 

 

 

There is even a line painted on the walkway that divides, and the architecture reflects it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When we got there that night, Vladka took us on a walk around there to see where everything was: the mosque church, metal-smith road, Government buildings  etc. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This city is quite unusual in that it is totally ok with any and all, and anti-religious.  There are mosques, Catholic Churches, Orthodox Churches and Synagogues, pretty much side by side.  Our local guide took us around the next morning to museums and mosques and he and Vladka brought us wonderful potato pies and spinach pies that were so delicious.  They also bought us a sweet treat of sour cherry wrapped in a filo dough.  All was so yummy!!!   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The statue in front of this Catholic Church is Pope John who had visited Sarajevo a couple of times and was so loved by its people.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most of the pomegranate stands were just one-squeezers, but this was the King of them all. One pull and four pomegranate halves are done. Janet would love just one. It would make her pomegranate jelly days so much easier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cheese Anyone?  This is the cheese section at the marke. The lady gave us all free tastings... I couldn't there were so many wonderful cheeses... some not so much. I loved the one you see with the peppers.

 

 

Maybe meat instead? Jerry and Michael were not that impressed by the cheeses so they went down to the meats, made a friend, and tasted salami's and prosciutto while we tried the cheeses. Everything was clean and (unless you were in a fish market) smelled pretty good!

Then we drove out to where the UN had established their place over the airport.  The people in Sarajevo during the war were surrounded, and the enemy would not allow people to get out for provisions except there.  Not safe above ground, they dug an 800 meter tunnel to the other side in the rural mountains.  We visited the site which was entered at a Bosnian family's house.  We saw a film about it, visited a mini museum, then tried our luck in the tunnel.

 

I can't imagine doing thius every day for 800 meters, always wondering if y ou'll be shot when you get out, if there will be a cave-in, etc.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They had cut it off at only 25 meters... I would never had made 800, especially since much of the time, the lights were turned off.  Because it was only one person wide and they could not pass, they changed directions where people could go every two hours.  Even though the pass was not a long one, it was very short in height, only Leona and Mary Ann could stand up straight, and for the tall Bosnians it would be very back-breaking.  First, the army (and then later even civilians) used it to bring in water, food and ammunition.  They even had a small railway system that they could use to roll heavy goods, but still it was narrow… only the size of one "round~around~nana" as my Katie would have said. I didn't do the tunnels in Viet Nam but I did manage this. Then it was time for lunch back in town. 

The spinach and potato took the edge off our hunger so that even by lunchtime we weren't hungry. I was looking for a souvlaki-like lunch like we ate on the streets in NY.  Vladka said that Bosnia's answer to that was a cevapcici. I saw people eating it and it was not what I wanted… it was ground beef sausages barbequed and served with a pita, chopped onion, and a cream sauce to add.  So instead, I went for an ice cream.  While Wanda, Linda and Michael went to a museum of the dead from the war, Janet and I found a place for ice cream.  Sadly it was a little too soft, but we scarfed it up, then walked back up the street to the church, to sit on the steps until the others finished their museum tour. By then it was time to get back to the hotel.  I rested and typed a little on this.

After a few hours, we were off on one of the very best adventures of all time.  This was our home-hosted meal in Sarajevo.  All of the group was divided in three groups.  Vladka made certain that Vic, Leona, Michael and I were with a family with a child.

 All three families were in those big apartment houses that were built in communist time.  They are those big, dull gray, uninteresting arctic ute so popular in communist time… we were all so excited to see what they were like inside. The steps up to the front door were broken marble and nothing was painted, cleaned or repaired to the building, although every family in the building pays a monthly maintenance fee.  The elevator held only one group at a time, and was not painted or clean. But once inside the house, it was spotless. The first tiny room was the entry, with a closet for storage at one side.   Here, we took off our shoes... Vladka had warned us to wear clean socks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is the wonderful home-hose family we visited in Sarajevo. The picture shows the grandmother holding her grandson, with her son and daughter-in-law behind her. We had a wonderful visit. As we unloaded the gifts we talked about their family and ours.  The mother spoke Bosnia and English (that she had learned at school and from watching American movies), and Spanish (which she had learned from watching novellas).

The home belonged to the grandmother... she had bought it when she and her husband returned from work in Libya.  The son and daughter-in-law (and their two children) lived with her after they had both lost their jobs.  They now both work for a private grocery store that gives them two days off each month, and they work from eight to ten hours a day, for 300 marks a month… each... no matter how many hours they work.  The grandmother takes care of the kids (Sarah is ten and Vinnie is six) while the parents work.  They pay for the groceries, electricity, water and maintenance.  It is a one and a half-bedroom home. I think the two kids sleep in the tiny half-bedroom, and the grandmother (or the parents) sleeps in either the other bedroom or the couch in the living room/ dining room. 

They have a small kitchen where the grandma and father fixed the dinner while the wife was our hostess. During dinner she told us of her remembrances of the war… her father working in the army and going to the tunnel each day for supplies, but having to give it all to the government to disperse. The grandmother told of the enemy on the hill able to see through the windows they had already shot out, to watch her fix the dinner for the family.  The family stayed in the one room without windows so they could keep warm and stay away from the gunfire, but as she fixed the dinner the enemy "played "with the grandmother, shooting through the windows but purposely missing her. 

They fixed us a marvelous dinner that is very special. They usually fix one like it on special days, but since they do this around two times a week, they probably get tired of it.

 

First we had a cream of okra soup that was surprisingly delicious, then a beautiful plate of what we call dolmas, but she had a different name. They were grape leaf-covered dolmas with rice and meat, but mostly meat and a lovely sauce. There were meat-stuffed mushrooms that were so yummy, and mashed potatoes arranged like a heart, decorated with cream, and one other thing that I can't remember, but since I loved and ate everything, it must have been delicious. For dessert we had tea or coffee and homemade baklava. 

 

It really was a wonderful visit.  The ten year-old daughter had gone to Zagreb, to a big gymnastic competition, and we could see that she had won many medals. Vinnie had won even more soccer medals, and had a professional photo taken of him playing at age three!  He loved Minky, my puppet, and we had fun with the family, as well as the little girl next door that was in with another host family.  

All in all, it was such a treasure. These home-host experiences are always the highlight of our tours, although when we have so many it is hard.

On this street corner of Sarajevo, Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sofia were assassinated. leading to the beginning of World War II... the "war to end all wars". Who would think we would be numbering them, and naming them Viet Nam, Gulf, Afghanistan, etc.? When will we ever learn to get along?!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is time for some sleep as we have a long ride tomorrow!

Good night....Laku noc

Sent from my iPad

grove