Bosnia

Next up, I traveled by bus to northern Serbia, a fascinating area that is a mishmash of Hungarian, Serbian and Croatian nationalities. Hungarian and Serbian are indeed NOTHING alike (which surprised me very much). Ben has noted below my excellent travels to Subotica, where I had a hoot of a time being a one-time celebrity with my own paparazzi. Viva Subotica (where Monica Seles is from. Did I mention tennis and table tennis are SUPPPPPER popular there?). Subotica is a small town on its own pace, and with a very different feel from Serbia. The hard edge seems to be gone, and though I don't know what I mean, I know that's what I felt. I've spent time in other small towns in Serbia and this one was different from that too. I think the area of Vojvodina ("Voy-voh-DEEN-ah") in which many Hungarians live, does indeed have a softer feel to it. It was greener, lots of folks riding bikes everywhere (hallelujah!) and hey, I was also a celebrity. What's not to love with the royal treatment.

Travels next took me (via Yugoslav Air, now there's an airline you can trust) to Sarajevo, city of magical delights. Sarajevo has always been a favorite of mine. In fact, while wandering around its hills tonight, I decided it places in the top three for East European capital cities I love. Sofia, Tbilisi and Sarajevo get the prize. Now I'm not sure which is the best, because I'm most partial to the country of Georgia (please see previous blogs if you dare question this), and Bulgaria too has received my praise in the elite New York Times, but Sarajevo is out of another world. It is surrounded by hills, layered with mystery, and always has a East/West feel to it. At night, the lights in the hills light up and seem to float in space.  The city is more than 90% Muslim now, which is too bad, because it used to be really mixed. The others have left now.

I love hearing the mosque calls to prayer with their slightly different start times and different pitches. It's haunting and mysterious as well as beautiful. My head rings a bit even after it finishes so I have to stop in my path to see if indeed, the calling has stopped. I still often do a second take with so many Muslim women here who are white and covered head to toe. The connection to the Muslim world is strong here, and Arabic infiltrates the city.

And why not?! I also indulge myself in drinkable thick plain yogurt and roasted vegetables, as well as the must-do baklava (am eating today's second piece right now! BRAVO!).

The "Turkish Quarter" is where the old and darling part of town is, cobblestones and all, with lots of Bosnian rugs (too expensive, and not as nice as Turkish ones, in my opinion), copper trinket delights (you can hear the tink-tink-tink of it during the day) and coffee shops galore. The cevacici places are everywhere, serving up grilled lamb with hunks of cream turned to cheese (or is it just butter…) on warm bread. I ate it a few times last year, I've passed this year indulging in restaurants I've deemed "MY FAVORITE RESTAURANT" aka Dveri and Inat Kuca.

I'm placed in my wonderful favorite hotel (thank you NYTimes! Good for something in your travel section afterall!), Halvat, a tiny little guest house that is cosy and delightful beyond description.

One other thing worth noting is something quite odd. I am not nearly as disturbed by the signs of war as I was last year. That is, I still see the pockmarks on most of the buildings in Sarajevo (billions of bullets must have been spent here); the destruction of the houses and buildings within city limits; and the many devastated towns I pass while traveling. Though the war was more than 10 years ago, so much devastation remains. But I am coming to understand how a city can move on—you just get used to it. I have.

But I've left Sarajevo, my friends, fret not. I traveled to Mostar, the darling town in Herzegovina (the largely Croat part of Bosnia) on a bright and springy day, the town, cut in half by the glorious and striking turquoise river, to see the historic bride that formerly bonded Catholic Croats with Muslim Bosniaks. It, of course, was destroyed in the war, but has been rebuilt (unlike much of the rest of the town, though, but alas, there is no money they say) . The public gardens, the green, the scaling up into the hills almost made me dizzy. I had been hit with a bad cold and was trying to make it go away. I think spending some time in the sun did the trick, as did the lovely lunch on the river.