Around the Balkans in 20 Days - Part 12

After the busy day travelling around yesterday, we emerged from our sleep a lot later than I would have allowed, given we had more exploring to do. But we had been on a little adventure, so today’s activities could be somewhat more relaxed. It must have been close to midday before we left the hotel. Bright sunshine beckoned us when we did depart, but we soon shied away and walked down the narrow main thoroughfare to ease its gaze.

John suggested that we should go and visit the Tunnel Museum. I had been curious to see this previously, but was not brave enough then to make the journey there by myself. I kept to the familiarity of the old town, and down to the Parliament building area.  So I eagerly agreed.

We found a kiosk and bought a tram ticket to head to Ilidza. This was the opposite end of Sarajevo to the old town. John was excited for the tram journey, again. We boarded the shabby tram that proved to be rather busy. We immediately stamped our ticket, as we were pre-warned to do, for fear of getting a fine. The journey was along the whole length of the route, so I was pleased that after 3 or 4 stops I secured a seat, with John following a stop later. A nice breeze came through the open windows above, with the metal on metal rattle of the wheels and track below pouring through.

As we passed the car hire place from yesterday, we entered unknown territory. Rows of concrete blocks of housing kept appearing to our left until we reached a big elevated road junction reminiscent, one abstractly assumed from above, of the Olympic rings logo. After we passed under this, single-level, bungalow-style housing then emerged. And there was a reason for this.

Soon enough, to our left there appeared two rows of wired fencing running alongside us. An expanse opened up behind it, and complicated lighting arrangements emerged. We were at one end of the runway for Sarajevo Airport. I suppose it took me by surprise, although it should not have, given we were going to visit the Tunnel Museum that was dug underneath the airport!

60 seconds later we crossed through a roundabout, then pulled up to our final destination. We got off the tram, and appeared to be in a small shopping area. The tram could continue around a teardrop shaped track to face back towards the old town. All the shops were flat roofed and modern in a 1970s sense; many of the food ones having canopies and rattan seating. There was an air of market day about it, with shoppers casually ambling around with bags half full.

Ilidza formed part of the Bosnian Serb forces territory during the siege, but it was now within the Federation (not Republika Srpska) entity. But not by much. We decided to head straight to the museum. I couldn’t locate any information online about public transport to it, so assumed there wasn’t any. We set off on foot and meandered around a few municipal buildings. We arrived at a wide road that had industrial units on the side facing the airport, and what must have been a registry office on the other side, as a wedding party was gathering outside. We walked in an easterly direction without any trees for shade, and had failed to buy any water too. We did stumble upon a brown sign a few hundred yards down the road, indicating the direction of the museum. So we turned off the wide road into a rather well to do suburb. A small stream ran past us, bubbling in front of the small plots containing detached housing. It was all pretty serene. We passed a small shop, no bigger than kiosk, which apparently sold bread. I couldn’t tell if it had closed many years ago, or just sold bread on an ad hoc basis. It seemed rather worn out, and given that the area we were in was the front line, I’m not surprised.

We continued walking, mostly following the free GPS on my phone, in the general direction of the museum. We only saw one other sign for it. Then the houses disappeared, and all of a sudden we were walking on open grassland. The airport looked very exposed. There was no pavement here, so when a car approached, we had to get on to the grass. To be fair, this only happened twice. In all, it took us about 40 minutes of walking to get here. The only noise to break the silence were two aircraft taking off, sending a booming and vibrating blast across the wide valley floor. 

The house upon which the tunnel was built was easily identifiable.  It really did bear the brunt of enemy fire by being on the front line. With the amount of bullet holes in it, it was remarkable the thing hadn’t just collapsed. It was typical of the style we had just walked passed. A stirring resemblance to houses in ski resorts, only on a smaller scale, with two floors, balcony, and a classic apex roof. You entered the museum down a side alley to the house, where a little wooden hut was constructed, set from the house. We paid the equivalent of £4 each and entered the back yard. This stretched about 100 yards towards the airport, and was a couple of yards wider than the house itself. In the bottom right corner was a modern wooden building of one level. This was the video room. Attached along the 8 ft high metal garden fencing was a written, chronological story of the tunnel that you followed round.

The story was fascinating. The airport was agreed, between the parties, to be a ‘neutral zone’, which meant it cut off the Bosnian Serbs from fully encircling the city; but also from allowing the Bosnian Government access to the city from territory it held. The Bosnian Government wanted to secure access, so the idea of a tunnel emerged to shift people and supplies back and forth. The owner of the house was an old lady, who allowed for this to take place. I believe she lived there throughout. What a torment for someone to sustain for all those years, especially witnessing the devastation to her house. As I gazed at a map of the city under siege, I noticed that the Bosnian Serb territory, which was merely hundreds of meters away, now corresponds to the demarcated internal border of the two entities. Republika Srpska was a short walk away.

We wondered into the house that had an assortment of displays on about the siege. But as you were directed to the basement, you became aware that you were going to the start of the tunnel. They kept the entrance to it open, and stabilized 50 yards of it. It was extremely claustrophobic, but luckily we only walked through it for seconds. We then emerged in the middle of the backyard. I had wandered what the little hole in the ground was! We visited the video room, but only for a few minutes, as we had garnered enough knowledge about the siege as we needed. Also, we were becoming a bit dehydrated.

We decided to leave after 45 minutes, and follow our footsteps back to Ilidza. As we rejoined the main road with the industrial buildings on it, a convoy of cars drove slowly past tooting their horns and waving flags out of the windows. It seems that the wedding had now finished, and this was the custom. I had seen this in Slovenia a few years ago, but it was still a joyful thing to see. It really created a community vibe to the wedding. This went on for the whole length of the road we walked, as they seemed to be doing laps!

When we returned to the market area, we decided to have a drink. We were parched and also needed shade from the sun. We picked a bar at random, but it happened to be on a thoroughfare so we could people watch. The one thing we should have not have done, was take this rest as a bit of a session for drinking. After about 2 hours of chatting and ordering more beers, as we didn’t want to move, we became rather pissed. I recall paying, buying a tram ticket, and then boarding the tram. The journey was pretty fuzzy back to the old town. However, as we walked through the old town, I remembered that I needed to send my friend a postcard that he requested (read: demanded). So I bought one, found a small post office in one of the old town shop fronts, paid my stamp and borrowed a pen. I scribbled a message, which I could not recall moments later, and posted it. I believe the person received it after we returned from the trip.

As we staggered back to the hotel, I noticed the first floor of a building that looked out on to the square of the old town where the Sebilj was located. It had etched into its yellow plaster a Star of David, and a box with words including the date 1873. These sorts of finds really fascinate me. What was this buildings’ purpose? Was it a synagogue, or did it serve another function? Who occupied it? John tried Wikmapia to see if it had the answer, but alas it did not. We returned to the hotel and took a long nap.

We woke up rather hungry, so John inspected Trip Advisor again and found an Italian near the flame memorial. We walked the length of the pedestrian pathway through the old town and Austro-Hungarian section, to reach the flame. We then turned immediately left into a very Germanic courtyard. This seemed to be a hub of activity, with a restaurant in every corner, spilling out into the courtyard. Our Italian was on the left. We were given a table for two in the mezzanine level, unfortunately next to a teenager’s birthday party. It was all very loud! The food was nice, and the candlelight brought a romantic feel to the restaurant. We then departed and returned to the club from last night. Perhaps we will have more luck in spotting some gays this time.

We arrived at the door and presented ourselves with our secretive knock, the door giving way soon after. We paid the minimal charge and went down. Tonight was a lot busier, very much the club ‘feel’ I was expecting the first night. We bought a couple of beers, then perched on a tall table near the exposed brick back wall. Many people were dancing in the pit area near the door and DJ booth. After a while we notice another couple that had entered and looked as new as us. They must have been tourists and seen the same Internet reviews of this place as we did. John went to the bar and they began chatting. Once they came over and after we exchanged pleasantries, it turns out that they both have a London link. One guy was from Germany originally but lived in London. His partner is from London originally but now resides in New York.

The rest of the night consisted of us all discussing our time in Sarajevo, where we had been, and to where we were travelling. At one point we decided we did not like the club, so ventured out. There were still throngs of people emptying out of the various film festival events. We ended up at a trendy bar on one of the back streets, but it seemed that all the other film ‘luvvies’ were there too. After too many beers, we then left our new friends and returned to the hotel at god-knows what hour.

My Images of SEE – 08:17, Friday 19th August

Liam snoozed and I relaxed whilst waiting for my clothes to dry. I went down and the lady at reception had put them into a basket for me. So I went up, woke Liam, and we got ready to leave. We left the apartment, through the High Street, and down a little maze of side streets to the Brankov Most – the bridge to the ‘New Belgrade’ side of the Sava. The view north was amazing, just a horizon of forest.

We walked over the busy road bridge, which took us 20 minutes, to a park on the other side. Immediately in front of us was a shopping mall. So we hid from the evening heat inside and grabbed a snack. We then walked around the mall and up a blocked off road to a park. 

This was where the Beer Festival was being held. An adjacent road to it was crammed full of people going to it: teenagers, middle-aged men and women, families – the lot. We had a light padding down at the gate and walked down a security alley to the main arena. There were stalls of the different beers all around, the ground messy from a few days of partying. We grabbed a £1.50 beer each and went to the arena. The sun was creeping slowly behind the stage.

A nice folk band were on – 8 members I think and a man in his seventies on lead vocals. Songs lasted about 10 minutes long it seemed, and had an almost ‘Greek’ feel to them, although it was definitely a Serbian set up. 

We happily listened for 30 minutes, grabbing another beer, but then made our way back as dusk was approaching. More people were arriving as we exited. We walked back across the bridge at just the right time. The sun was leaving a glorious day, and we say the city light up on its banks. The fortress just glowed from the forest around it. 

St Sava’s Church the other side of town was a Christian beacon for the city. We walked to Republic Square, which was still busy, and had a couple of cocktails. We then went to the 24-hour convenience store next to our hostel and grabbed snacks for the morning. We watched some shows on my phone then slept.

We woke at 06:45. We showered and finally packed before living the hostel at 07:20. We walked the last time through the High Street, then down Balkanska to the train station. It was hot already. My train was at platform 4, and we confirmed Liam’s. We sat opposite the train for 10 minutes then said our goodbye’s. I was now on my own.

The train hardly filled up whilst I waited until the 08:15 departure. I had a young lad and girl for company as I departed Belgrade over the river Sava.