Snowflake's Chance in Hell

Sarajevo is known around the world for several things: the 1984 Winter Olympics, the assassination that sparked off WWI, and most recently, the brutal 4-year long siege of the city during the bitter warring and ethnic cleansing of the 1990s.

Those three things are far from all there is to the city though. It’s one of very few cities in the world in which synagogues, mosques, Catholic and Orthodox cathedrals exist within just metres of each other. Sarajevo’s old town is a warren of cobbled streets and low-roofed Ottoman-style buildings that now house cafés, restaurants, and stores selling everything from traditional hand-beaten copperware and Turkish carpets to the latest shoes from Italy or fashions from Western Europe.

For 500 years Bosnia and Sarajevo were ruled by the Ottoman Empire, during which time Sarajevo became the first city in Europe to have public toilets (which still operate today). Later, under the Austro-Hungarian Empire (while the Viennese were still nervous about the safety of electricity), Sarajevo became the first city in Europe to boast a fulltime working electric tramway.

And if architecture and history aren’t enough, then the people themselves are lovely. If anyone had the right to a bit of grumpiness with outsiders or foreigners, it would be the citizens of a city that were subjected to a vindictive and brutal 4-year siege after being prevented by the rest of the world from procuring the arms they needed to defend themselves. Almost without exception though, the Sarajevans that we met were a pleasure to interact with.

The staff at the tourist information office are among the most helpful I have come across anywhere, people in customer service have retained their good humour despite tourists’ inevitably naïve questions, currency-fumbling, and language-butchery, and the other people that we chanced to meet were just as delightful. The passing council worker who downed his broom, jumped the rail, and scrambled a rocky embankment to rescue something dropped in the river; the auto-repairer who phoned around the country for a part he didn’t have in stock because we needed it that day; and the priest who made sure we saw the parts of his church that we didn’t even know existed are just a few who spring to mind.

Quick Tips:

The currency of Bosnia is the Convertible Mark (Konvertibilni Marka; KM for short), which is approximately equal to one Deutschmark, or half a Euro. Despite being called Convertible Mark, it’s not the favourite currency of moneychangers outside the country. That’s not to say that it can’t be exchanged, just that it might be more hassle than you’re expecting, and that if it was ever worthwhile counting your pennies and planning to spend the last of the local currency at the end of your stay, then it’s worthwhile in Bosnia. Current exchange rates can always be checked online. There are ATM bankomats accepting VISA and MasterCard everywhere you look.

Francie and I invested in a copy of Lonely Planet’s Western Balkans for the trip, and found it well worth having. A lot of travellers seem to be foregoing the old guidebook these days in favour of information found online. In Sarajevo though, we were disappointed with the best accommodation that we could find online. The place we ended up moving to was listed in the guide, but not online, and it was almost worth having the book for that alone, not to mention the countless times we used the maps and referred to it while carrying it around the streets.

If you are a fan of the online world though, the Lonely Planet website has a short overview of Sarajevo to download for free. There’s an Internet café just off the Baščaršija square (Pigeon square). Just cross the street near the antique shop, head uphill 30m and there’s a sign pointing you down a lane to the left.

If you’re anything like me, you found the news reports of the Bosnian war pretty confusing and had trouble keeping track of who was who. Before arriving, I read "Yugoslavia, Death of a Nation" and the knowledge was invaluable. The authors are Laura Silber and Allan Little. Noel Malcolm has also written on the subject and seems to be held in high regard, and there’s an excellent website called Balkanology that has a good overview of the country (not to mention some invaluable travel advice and beautiful photographs).

Whatever you do, read something. At least know about Milosević, his desire for a greater Serbia, Tudjman and his desire for a greater Croatia, and the awkward position that Bosnia found itself in once Slovenia and then Croatia had seceded from Yugoslavia.

Best Way To Get Around:

Sarajevo is linked by air to major European cities like Frankfurt, Prague, Istanbul, and Vienna, although, from the apparent lack of drunken English-speaking stag parties in matching T-shirts, it would appear that the budget airlines are not yet flying there.

You’ll probably only arrive in Sarajevo by train if you’re coming from Budapest (100KMarks, one per day), Zagreb (50KMarks, one per day) or Mostar (one morning train and one evening train each day, 11KMarks).

Bus is the most cost effective and convenient option; for example, the daily buses to Belgrade are 29KM, getting to Dubrovnik will set you back 44KM (2 buses per day), and if our friends hadn’t shown up unexpectedly in their van, we’d have made the long trip to Vienna for 88KM. (If you happen to buy 88KM bus tickets and decide to cancel them the evening before, the refund will be 77KM, which at such short notice, we thought was generous.)

Once in Sarajevo, you will probably find that you can walk everywhere except the tunnel museum. If you do need the trams or buses though, tickets are sold at newspaper kiosks close to each major stop.

For the tunnel museum, we took tram #3 to its end station, Ilidža, and then a taxi for the next few kilometres to the museum. Our guidebook suggested the taxi ride would be 5KM, tourist info said 6, and it turned out to be 7. Even if it’s 8 or 9 by the time you get there, I still think it’ll be worth it to avoid the long and confusing walk.

Before going to Sarajevo, we heard about a ‘scam’ involving ticket sellers waving away people who wanted to buy tickets, those people then getting on the tram and being immediately busted by the controllers. Having been there though, I think there’s probably no scam, its just people being waved away for trying to pay with ridiculously large banknotes. It’s possible to buy tickets from the driver upon boarding, although it’s slightly more expensive, and the controllers seemed quite helpful to anybody who was having trouble. The controllers that I saw stood near the entrance, watched everybody validate their tickets, and then hopped off before the tram moved away.

Easy to get to, easy to get around, and people are happy to help: Welcome to Sarajevo!

Kod Keme Guesthouse wasn’t the first place we stayed in Sarajevo, but I wish we’d found it sooner. In contrast to our first place of accommodation, Kod Keme had a fantastic location, was good value for money, spotlessly clean and the owner was helpful and friendly.

The entrance is beneath a bright yellow sign that hangs out above Mali Ćurčiluk Street, just steps from the cobbled streets and low-roofed ottoman houses of Baščaršija. Upon ringing the bell the owner will probably call out to you from one of the upper floor windows and then come down to talk to you at the entrance.

We were shown to the largest room on the ground floor, which was one of the smallest large rooms I’ve ever seen, but still more than adequate for our needs. And at only 10KM more than we’d been paying for a cold and dodgy room out in the suburbs, it seemed like excellent value. The bathroom and toilet were attached to the room, there was a television, table and chairs and a cupboard to hang our clothes in if we’d had anything worth hanging. The heating was more than enough for the space and we actually had to turn it down after a while.

We never found out the owner’s name, but she was very helpful and having lived in Australia for ten years, spoke English fluently. The willingness to share a little local knowledge is always a wonderful attribute in any accommodation management or staff and, again in contrast to our other place of accommodation, we were able made good use of it here. We’d specifically been hoping to have big meal of Roast Lamb before leaving the Balkans, but were having trouble finding it, because it was out of season. The owner of Kod Keme was able to recommend a place that she knew had it for certain, as she’d eaten there the previous night. That fact that it was run by her husband and shared the same name as the guesthouse, Kod Keme (At Kem’s) made us expect that it would be a well-run and good-value establishment, which is exactly what it turned out to be.

If you’re like me and location in the city is far more important than space to lounge around in your room, then I think Kod Keme is an excellent option. I hope to visit Sarajevo again sometime and this will be my first choice for accommodation.

Inat Kuća is a restaurant in an old ottoman-style house across the river from the national library.

We saw the name translated variously as House of Spite, Despite House and House of Pride. The story is that a previous owner refused to sell his house to the authorities who wanted to pull it down so that they could straighten and pave the banks of the Miljacka River. "Tsar in Vienna is mighty and great. He deserves all my respect but he doesn’t have money to pay me for my delight" were his words as reported by the menu. Eventually a compromise was reached, one of the conditions being that the house would be moved piece by piece and rebuilt on the opposite bank of the river.

Having straightened the river, the authorities moved on to further projects, including the building of the monumental Town Hall/National Library that takes up an entire block. The building was heavily damaged during the siege and is boarded up awaiting reconstruction. It’s quite a unique building due to its imposing Central European proportions and Moorish-inspired surface decoration.

What does this have to do with Inat Kuća? Well the chosen location was right where they’d painstaking rebuilt old Mr. Stubborn’s home. Another stand-off ensued and only a large payment and the removal of the House of Spite back towards its original location cleared the site for the new construction.

And the restaurant? Well, it’s good. I would go so far as to say that if you are only going to have one sit-down meal while you are in Sarajevo, then you should have it here.

Entry is through a heavy wooden door into a room filled with low round tables, stools and a long bench along the length of the wall. On your right though, is the staircase, and the best tables are upstairs. We were delighted to find that the small octagonal window nook that juts out from the staircase between the second and third floors was free. It’s the deep bay window that you can see protruding out above the street from the outside. The effect from the inside is something like the dining equivalent of a four-poster bed and the windows in all directions offer wonderful views.

From the menu we chose "Bosnian Pot" and "Sahan". Bosnian pot was a small ceramic urn, in which had been baked a great tender lump of veal and vegetables flavoured with orient-conjuring spices like cardamom, cloves and cinnamon. Yum! "Sahan" was a sample of every other dish; meatballs, stuffed grape leaves, skewered meats and veal tongue to name a few. We decided that the meals were excellent value, at 10-12 marks (5 -6 Euros) and the drinks not cheap but reasonable. Mineral water was 2KM, soft drinks were 3, beer 4 and a glass of wine was 7KM (3.5Euro).

Good food, reasonably priced, in pleasant and interesting surroundings, with a view and just steps from the centre of town. Can’t ask for much more than that!

Sarajevo’s catholic Cathedral of the Sacred Heart of Jesus (Katedrala Srca Isusova) stands on a small square just outside the old Ottoman bazaar area of the city, Baščaršija.

As the seat of the upper Bosnian archbishopric, it’s the centre of catholic worship in Sarajevo, and being less than a minute’s walk from the orthodox cathedral, synagogue and the city’s largest mosque, it’s one of the monuments that helped earn Sarajevo the nickname "European Jerusalem" for the close proximity of so many faiths. The Cathedral’s twin bell towers and facade are often used as a symbol of Sarajevo, and along with the Latin bridge and the Miljacka River, they are even featured on the coat of arms and flag of the city.

The cathedral was built in the late 1880s in the neo-Gothic style so popular in the lands of the Austro-Hungarian Empire at that time. The stonework has all been left exposed, and the patterns and gentle colour variations in the sandstone and limestone make the otherwise plain exterior actually quite beautiful. The stone also changes colour when it rains and we noticed that the cathedral seemed to be a different colour almost every time we walked past it, depending on whether it was raining, snowing, the sun was shining, or the floodlights were on. We walked past quite often, too. Ferdahija is the main pedestrian artery leading from the old Turkish quarter into this newer part of town, and it leads right through the small square in front of the cathedral. The square is a natural meeting point for people in this part of the city and the steps of the cathedral are often covered in people just hanging out or waiting to meet friends.

The carved stonework round the main entrance features a sculpture of the holy trinity, and the beautiful rosette window directly above forms a halo behind a stone Jesus, who is either flipping gang signs or holding up one hand in blessing and showing the location of his sacred heart with the other. The cathedral was targeted during the war, but the damage has now been repaired. The square itself is marked by several Sarajevo roses; which are the flower-like gouges in the pavement made by the impact of Serbian shells and now filled in with red resin to symbolize the bloodshed caused by each one.

If you’re interested in visiting the memorial for the Markale market massacre (which killed 68 ordinary people going about their grocery shopping, wounded 200 more, and eventually swung foreign public opinion far enough to allow NATO to intervene in the Bosnian war), the cathedral is your best signpost. Just walk along either side of the cathedral, cross the street at its rear and the market is the large covered area to your left.

Whatever your purpose and interests in Sarajevo, the catholic cathedral is sure to become an integral part of your memories of this remarkable city.

One of the best-preserved examples of Ottoman architecture in the world, The Gazi Husrev Beg Mosque, is the most important and well-known mosque in Bosnia-Hercegovina. Built in 1531, taking up an entire city block, covered by a 13 metre dome, with a 45 metre high minaret and a clock tower that’s almost as high, the mosque is also perhaps Sarajevo’s most prominent building regardless of architectural style, religious affiliation or century of construction.

Gazi Husrev Beg’s father was Bosnian and his mother was a Turkish princess. He studied in Turkey and after returning to Bosnia and becoming the province’s first native-Bosnian governor, he set about a building program that included not just this impressive mosque and clock tower but also Europe’s first public toilets (still operating today), a high school (Madrasah), hospital and traveller’s inn (Han).

At any time of day or night, the mosque seemed to be alive with people and activity. During the day at regular intervals, young men pour out of the high school across the street and into the mosque for prayer, older men and women come and go at any time, and until noon each day the mosque and its grounds are open to tourists. The grounds are also home to a fountain (Šadrvan) covered by an ornate carved wooden canopy, a baths complex, and smaller outbuildings for harems and tombs, including that of Gazi Husrev Beg himself.

There’s a small outbuilding by the front gate that acts as reception for visitors. On the day that we visited there was a very welcoming gentleman on duty and despite the prices being clearly displayed, 2KM per person, plus another 1KM if you intend to take photographs; we were given a generous discount for no apparent reason. There’s another prominent sign requesting visitors to observe several customs within the grounds of the mosque; no cycling, no smoking, no guns and no talking on mobile phones; and another at the entry to the mosque itself, explaining that shoes should be removed, headscarves put in place and for those who missed the first sign-that mobile phones should be turned OFF.

Entering the mosque was a lovely experience. I’ve always liked getting around just in my socks and the carpets there were thick, soft, and patterned with beautifully intricate designs in warm colours. I often find Christian churches to be cold austere places, but padding around on the carpets, with the low winter sunlight streaming into the mosque and bouncing off the gold leaf in the many inscriptions and decorative patterns, I thought that if I had to choose a religion based on which building I’d most like to spend time in, then I’d have to go with Gazi Husrev Beg in Sarajevo.

The two-hour walking tour that we did from the tourist information centre was very good and I would recommend it to anybody.

We enquired in the morning and were told the tour begins each day at Noon (more frequently in the warmer months) and returned then. (The price was 20KM/10 euros, payable in advance or upon completion). Once our entire group had assembled in front of the information office, we found a quiet place just around the corner, where the guide introduced himself as Muammar, explained the form the tour would take and asked if we had any questions.

Having no questions, we proceeded to the first point of interest, which was the site on which Gavrilo Princip stood while he waited for his chance and then executed the assassination of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand, nephew of the ruling Habsburg emperor Franz Josef, thus setting in motion (or accelerating) the chain of events which would soon lead to WWI. Princip is still sometimes referred to as the torch that ignited WWI and in the Yugoslav era the nearby ‘Latin bridge’ was named after him and he was considered a Serbian national hero.

We then wound our way through the narrow cobblestoned backstreets of the city’s old Turkish quarter, Baščaršija. The streets here are lined by old ottoman low-roofed buildings of timber, brick, and terracotta. Most of the buildings were originally craftsmen’s workshops and this is reflected in the street names, Kazindžiluk being Coppersmith Street, for example. Most buildings now are retail shops, with the occasional restaurant, coffee shop or take-away food place mixed in. The overall effect is that of a gigantic mazelike market, with the shops’ wares spilling onto the street and the smell of grilled meat floating on the air. You can spend days wandering this part of town, but the walking tour passed through quite quickly.

Our next stop was the mosque named after its founder Gazi Husrev Beg (1480-1541), who was the province’s first native-Bosnian Muslim governor. His contribution to the development of the city also included Europe’s first public toilets/ baths, a clock tower showing prayer times, the madrassa (high school) and the han (traveller’s inn and marketplace), which still has a huge store of Turkish-style carpets.

From there we continued past the central monuments of the other major religions of Europe. The time allotted for the tour was drawing to a close, but Muammar made sure to take us past the synagogue and adjacent Jewish museum, which may have been difficult to find by ourselves. We had time to duck inside the catholic cathedral, before continuing on to liberation square, the orthodox cathedral and the end of the two-hour walking tour.

We thanked Muammar and started back towards the old Turkish quarter to visit some of the sights in more detail, after finding the source of that delicious grilled meat smell, of course!

Orthodox Christianity is one of the four main faiths that help Sarajevo earn the nickname European Jerusalem. Within a couple of hundred metres of the catholic cathedral, the old synagogue and museum, and several mosques, stand both the orthodox cathedral and a smaller and older stone orthodox church with a single bell tower.

The gold and caramel coloured Cathedral of the Holy Mother of God faces the green open space of Liberation square, in the first ‘new’ suburb outside Sarajevo’s historic old Ottoman quarter. The cathedral was built in 1868-72 during the last years of Ottoman influence in the region, mostly in the neo-Baroque style, but with a nod towards Byzantine architecture in the domes and the patterned cornices.

Almost all Orthodox Christians in Sarajevo were ethnically Serbian, and since the end of the war in the mid '90s the Serbian population of the city has markedly decreased as many have moved (either by choice or necessity) to the areas of the country known as Republika Srbska, dominated politically and numerically by their ethnically Serbian brethren. The remarkably good condition of the cathedral (which also suffered extensive damage during the war) is partly due to the financial support of the Greek government, but I’d like to think also due to a surviving sense of tolerance among Sarajevo’s remaining citizens. Despite the Bosnian Serbs being accepted as the greatest villains in the conflict, their cathedral doesn’t appear to have been singled out for reprisal.

We were unfortunately unable to gain access to the interior of the cathedral, but when we stumbled across the small Church of the Archangels Michael and Gabriel and hesitated by its front gate, the priest rushed from across the street to ensure that we understood that we could enter.

The history of the church goes as far back as the fifteenth century but its current appearance dates from 1730, with some minor additions in the form of bullet holes and shell craters added more recently. The bare stonework of the exterior is broken only by small windows and the obligatory icons painted above each of the entry doors. Through the low entry door was quite an atypical interior. In some ways it seemed more like a synagogue than a church, being approximately as wide as it was long, and there was a deep first-floor gallery that looked down onto the ground floor of the church. We’d have missed the first-floor gallery if the priest hadn't pointed out the stairs to us. He also communicated that it would be OK to take photos-(before we’d even asked).

The wood and stone iconostasis was remarkably intricate and featured icons from the 17th and 18th centuries. There was also a huge chandelier that dominated the space above the main nave of the church, and a striking golden cross that rose above the iconostasis. Hanging incense burners and dark velvet curtains across the doors to the sanctuary added the final flourishes to this corner of Europe’s Jerusalem.

The Sarajevo Brewery is across the river from the central Baščaršija neighbourhood of the old town. It takes up almost an entire city block and sits just below St Anthony’s church (the big red and white one, with the Venetian style bell tower), so it’s very easy to find.

The Brewery played an important role in Sarajevo life during the war. When the Serb forces cut electricity, gas, and water supplies to the city, people were suspicious about taking the water from the river, and would come to fill drums and buckets from the deep spring on the brewery grounds, which was the only other source of fresh water in the besieged city. The brewery buildings were damaged during the siege, but have undergone a thorough revamp and now look very smart in their freshly painted burgundy and cream livery.

The grand entrance doors of the restaurant/beer hall bring you to a huge room, the size of a theatre, with the overhanging balconies to match. Instead of a stage though, there’s a ten-metre long bar and instead of numbered rows of seats there are numbered tables sporting red and white checked tablecloths. Upon entry you’ll be greeted by the maitre’d, and ushered upstairs if you’re planning to dine or to one of the tables on the wooden floorboards of the ground floor if it’s the amber nectar you’re interested in.

Said amber nectar is available for 3.50KM/1.75 euros per half-litre, and comes in several variations, which you should try according to your taste, bearing in mind though, that the stronger dark beer is considered the house specialty.

Sipping a drink or two gives plenty to time to take in the interior of the beer hall, and it’s really been very well put together. The old-school wooden panelling up to dado-height set the stage for the understated decorative paintwork above. Old-fashioned stencil work and cloth-inlaid wall panels were the backdrop for framed prints and black and white photographs of Sarajevo’s colourful past.

The main stage in this show is the long wooden bar. The four or five black-and-white attired waiters regularly glide by the bar to pick up new drinks poured by the busy bartender. If it’s a quiet time and the head waiter is not around they’ll prop themselves up and no doubt share the same jokes as the many patrons.

Both times we went; the downstairs area was nearly full. It's spacious however, so doesn’t feel crowded, and the high ceilings help the cigarette smoke to dissipate. Similarly there’s a constant buzz of noise from the full tables of diners and drinkers, but in such a large space, it’s not overwhelming.

The only blemish was that not quite all our change came back after paying the bill. The amount wasn’t large enough to quibble about, but if this kind of thing irks you, or you’re on a really tight budget, you might want to keep an eye on it.

Overall, a stirling performance. Bravo!

The 800m-long Sarajevo tunnel is revered as an inanimate war hero and credited with enabling the city to survive the longest siege in modern military history. A short section is accessible to the public at the Tunnel Museum in the suburb of Ilidža. From central Sarajevo we took tram #3 to the Ilidža stop and then a 7KMarks taxi-ride for the last 3 kilometres. Museum entry was 5KM and it’s open daily from 9am to 4pm, year round.

As Yugoslavia disintegrated in the early 1990s, the Bosnian government followed the example of Slovenia and Croatia and declared independence. The people of Bosnia had split along ethnic lines and one faction, the Bosnian Serbs, immediately declared themselves independent from the newly-announced state of Bosnia-Hercegovina.

Escalating tension soon led to armed conflict and, supported by the Yugoslavian National Army, Bosnian Serb forces attacked what they saw as the rebel government in Sarajevo. Despite superior firepower, Bosnian Serbs were outnumbered by the (mostly Muslim) defenders of Sarajevo, and chose to surround the city and cut its supplies of water, gas and electricity, in the hope of forcing a surrender and the acceptance of their demands.

The hills around Sarajevo were occupied by Serb forces, except a small corridor to the southwest, and access to that was blocked by the UN peacekeeper-controlled airport. The only way Sarajevans could obtain access to the supplies and arms they needed from the outside world was to tunnel under the airport.

The tunnel was dug by hand by soldiers working around the clock in shifts and it took four months for men working from opposite ends to reach through and shake hands. The finished version averaged a height of 1.5 metres, width of 1metre and had steel rails to support trolleys of heavy supplies. An oil pipeline, telephone cables and a limited supply of electricity were connected and thousands of tonnes of food, medical supplies and munitions were carried through the tunnel. Most famously, it was used to transport President Izetbegovic in his wheelchair, and most comically some of the museum video footage shows a startled white goat emerging from one end.

As well as extensive video footage, the museum also has a collection of military equipment and war-paraphernalia. Bullets, shell cases the size of a man’s thigh, uniforms, camouflage equipment, backpacks and some of the trolleys used to transport goods are on display. The entrance to the tunnel itself is outdoors under a covered area surrounded by sandbags and camouflage netting. There’s extensive printed information on display, including an aerial view showing the Bosnian Serb grip on the city and making plain the necessity for the tunnel.

"The desire… is that, in the area of the tunnel museum… a large monument can be built so that future generations can learn about the evil that was lived through and so that they can ensure it will never happen again."

Indeed.

On Liberation Square in front of the orthodox cathedral, there’s a large chessboard painted onto the paving and unless it’s pouring rain, it’s likely to be surrounded by men playing chess.

The usual scene as you approach the chessboard is the backs of thirty to fifty men crowded around in a rough square, peering over each others’ shoulders for the best view of the board. Depending on the stage of the game and who’s playing, there might be tense concentration and quiet discussion, or there could be loud calling out of suggested moves and groans of disappointment when the suggestions are ignored. The banter can sound quite heated at times, but always seemed to be good-natured. At least it never came to blows while I was there, (I’m sure it would have in some other countries that I’ve visited-including my home country).

I didn’t ever actually play a game; it seems the next competitors are chosen by popular demand from among the most verbose critics of the preceding game. That is, the crowd in general will call out two names “Šaško i Tabak, Šaško i Tabak!” in much the same tone as they’ve been using throughout the game for “Dame na Kun, Dame na Kun” (Queen takes the knight, Queen takes the knight). Then Šaško and Tabak will step up and play or glance at their mobile phones and make their excuses. This will go on ad nauseum until who knows what hour; one night we passed at about 11pm, and there were still a couple of diehards battling it out. I’m sure if I’d asked to play though, I’d have been welcomed, if for no other reason than the novelty value of playing an Australian who keeps trying to ask silly questions in Bosnian with a Czech accent.

This might sound a bit nerdy, but hanging around by the chessboard was one the things I enjoyed most in Sarajevo. There’s a crowd of regulars and it doesn’t take long to know some of their names. Watching their interactions and especially their reactions to suggestions and criticism made for fascinating people-watching and it was the closest I thought I came to glimpsing a Bosnian national character. That’s a big claim, I know, but if such a thing as a national character exists, then a group of blokes cheering on some competitive event is as good a place as any to try to understand it. For example, imagine a group of thirty Italian men around a bocce pitch, thirty Japanese men around a Sumo ring and thirty Australian men around a pie throwing contest and you’ll certainly see some different characteristics that you can attribute to each nationality.

Anyway, I liked it and it was a good fixed point to meet up if your travelling companion wanted to go off and look at shoes! If you understand and play chess, I highly recommend passing at least a short part of your stay with the chessmen of Sarajevo.