Sarajevo for two

by Denis Balgaranov (Bulgaria)

I didn't expect to find Bosnia & Herzegovina

“Do you see those leaf-sized holes in the asphalt? With the red paint? That’s what we call a Sarajevo rose. It’s what happens after a grenade hits the street. The whole city’s filled with them... it’s something you should notice.” You should get your significant other by the hand and you should go to Sarajevo as soon as spring comes along. Romance needs two things to blossom, it needs intimacy and a dramatic setting. Sarajevo has both. I didn’t have a reason to go there except for some cash and some spare time. The only thing I knew was that the city was the site of a brutal civil war less than thirty years ago, with the longest siege in history. It lasted for 1425 days and had around 14,000 casualties. It is also the backdrop to the murder of Archduke Ferdinand, the event that kicked off WWI. The city hasn’t really gotten over its violent past - it wears it proudly on its facades and the eyes of the people who lived through it or the imagination of the people who came after. The first thing I saw when I got off the bus where the bullet holes in almost every building. Some of them had black circles around them, to guide your attention. I got on a tram that clamored by the Miljacka River, slicing through the city and got to the center. Sarajevo is a town nestled in a valley with tall mountains hugging it on all sides; you feel you are deep in nature’s bosom. I walked by the river, under the spotted shade of the trees, passing numerous bridges. The Lovers bridge, where a Bosnian woman and a Serb man were shot dead by snipers, trying to flee the city. They died embracing each other. After, I passed the Latin bridge, where the Archduke was shot. All these bridges, they’re of universal significance now. I took a left turn and found myself on the main street called Ferhadija - the dividing line between east and west. On the lefthand side, the street was wide and ornamented buildings raised on both sides, a cathedral’s tower above the roofline, fashionable shops and bars, it looked like any old Austrian town. On the righthand side - a tightly packed swirl of narrow streets and minarets, one-story storefronts, sizzling Ćevapi, the local delicacy and a crowd of people walking passed east and west divide seamlessly. There aren’t many tourists in Bosnia, so it’s easy to slip inside an empty café or spend hours looking at the handcrafted copper trays and jewelry, while your nose fills up with the smell of Turkish delight, roasting meat, and coffee. It is oriental to the bone, so no alcohol, but if you want to grab a glass of wine, you can hop over to the Austrian side and soak up the street musicians in front of the Sacred Heart cathedral. And everywhere you go, you will always spot the bullet holes and the Sarajevo roses. They will remind you – this is a place where a lot has happened, and you should notice because it matters. I left the old town behind me and started up a road to the Yellow Fortress to get a better view of the city. Before I got to the fort I passed through a cemetery and when I got to the top I saw that the whole city was dotted with cemeteries. During the siege, they needed to bury the bodies and they just put them in any open ground they could find. So how can it be romantic, when it’s such a memento to suffering? Well, I can tell you this: The time we have is always fleeting, and every moment is precious. You shouldn’t hesitate, because you might miss out on having a kiss under the spotted shade, near a bridge over the Miljacka, a bottle of wine, and warm embrace, the sunset over the Sarajevo valley. Everywhere you go, you can be secluded, and what’s romance without a bit of drama? And I went there alone, I missed out on a lot.