After Dubrovnik, we left on a bus to Sarajevo in Bosnia. This would be our first short stop on our long journey to Istanbul, Turkey. Sarajevo was held under siege from 1992-1996 in the Bosnian War and an average of 330 shells hit the city every day . As a result of the recent war, many buildings were still marked with bullet and shrapnel holes and it was obvious that the city was still in the process of rebuilding. Even with its recent tragic times, the city was still beautiful, particularly in the area of its people. Our hostel owner had been on the front lines in the war and offered us a war tour which we eagerly accepted. Up the mountains of Sarajevo, we travelled in his car and along the way we would get out and walk through trails of the forest where the majority of the fighting happened. Having someone tell us about the war who was actually in it was very powerful. This is where his friend was shot. This is the trench where he slept for a year, missing his family and wondering if he would be alive in the morning. Bullets, shell fragments, and old food cans still littered the ground and of course mines were still in the area so we had to make sure we stayed on the trails. Our honest guide ended the tour with his plea for peace and for people to start seeing the differences in others as beautiful.
We left Bosnia with a good impression of the city after 2 nights and we took the train to Belgrade, Serbia. We were tired and annoyed and we knew that it we were still 24 hours away from Istanbul. Thankfully, Serbs are very helpful people and when we arrived and were looking for our hostel, we actually had three different people come up and ask us if we needed help. Belgrade was interesting with its strange blend of architectural styles-old beautiful detailed buildings and modern ugly grey apartment buildings. I had a bad sleep and woke up cranky so I split off from the other guys and explored Belgrade by myself. After a visit to the interesting Nikola Tesla museum (who the Serbs love, as do I), I sat in a café and sipped coffee as I watched people. I recharged with my much needed alone time, and it would turn out that I would need it for the next and final leg of our journey to Istanbul.
We booked an overnight train to Sofia and planned to catch a bus from there to Istanbul. We were in money saving mood when we booked our train tickets and decided not to get the beds on the train but instead take our chances with a compartment on the train. We hoped that it would be only us three in a compartment and that way, we could stretch out and maybe catch some sleep. Just as the train left, and we were smiling at each other at our luck at getting a compartment to ourselves, a man walked in and took a seat. He introduced himself as a Bulgarian music producer and showed us his songs on which he rapped about bringing back the 90's. He seemed genuinely kind and he would constantly ask about English words which we were glad to answer. Maybe this new companion wouldn't be so bad, and though we would be squished, sleep wasn't out of the question. Then the police knocked on our door. They informed us that this train was used by Gypsies to smuggle tobacco across the border and that we should not sleep unless we wanted our bags stolen. The entire night was filled with many stops and searches and gypsies running up and down the train hallway, trying to find places to store tobacco in the walls of the train, and running off the train into the forest beside the tracks. At one point, a gypsy put her bag in our compartment, and once we passed the border, she took the bag back, profusely thanking us and crossing herself as our compartment was never searched by the border guards.
We arrived in Sofia extremely tired and were very thankful that our Bulgarian friend was able to help us get on a bus to Istanbul. We were met with free drinks, food, wifi, and tv screens on the back of every seat-a first showing of the very nice Turkish buses.
After two very different cities, a few restless nights, and helping gypsies smuggle tobacco across the border, we had finally made it to Istanbul.
We left Bosnia with a good impression of the city after 2 nights and we took the train to Belgrade, Serbia. We were tired and annoyed and we knew that it we were still 24 hours away from Istanbul. Thankfully, Serbs are very helpful people and when we arrived and were looking for our hostel, we actually had three different people come up and ask us if we needed help. Belgrade was interesting with its strange blend of architectural styles-old beautiful detailed buildings and modern ugly grey apartment buildings. I had a bad sleep and woke up cranky so I split off from the other guys and explored Belgrade by myself. After a visit to the interesting Nikola Tesla museum (who the Serbs love, as do I), I sat in a café and sipped coffee as I watched people. I recharged with my much needed alone time, and it would turn out that I would need it for the next and final leg of our journey to Istanbul.
We booked an overnight train to Sofia and planned to catch a bus from there to Istanbul. We were in money saving mood when we booked our train tickets and decided not to get the beds on the train but instead take our chances with a compartment on the train. We hoped that it would be only us three in a compartment and that way, we could stretch out and maybe catch some sleep. Just as the train left, and we were smiling at each other at our luck at getting a compartment to ourselves, a man walked in and took a seat. He introduced himself as a Bulgarian music producer and showed us his songs on which he rapped about bringing back the 90's. He seemed genuinely kind and he would constantly ask about English words which we were glad to answer. Maybe this new companion wouldn't be so bad, and though we would be squished, sleep wasn't out of the question. Then the police knocked on our door. They informed us that this train was used by Gypsies to smuggle tobacco across the border and that we should not sleep unless we wanted our bags stolen. The entire night was filled with many stops and searches and gypsies running up and down the train hallway, trying to find places to store tobacco in the walls of the train, and running off the train into the forest beside the tracks. At one point, a gypsy put her bag in our compartment, and once we passed the border, she took the bag back, profusely thanking us and crossing herself as our compartment was never searched by the border guards.
We arrived in Sofia extremely tired and were very thankful that our Bulgarian friend was able to help us get on a bus to Istanbul. We were met with free drinks, food, wifi, and tv screens on the back of every seat-a first showing of the very nice Turkish buses.
After two very different cities, a few restless nights, and helping gypsies smuggle tobacco across the border, we had finally made it to Istanbul.
I read this book while in Sarajevo. A very strange experience.
My grumpy day in Belgrade.
The train ride to Belgrade; less eventful than the gypsy train to Sofia.
Dubrovnik to Sarajevo to Belgrade to Sofıa to Istanbul.
What an adventure!
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