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Lazy morning, I finally got out at 11 AM. However, not even half an hour after leaving the hostel, I ran into no one else than Ben, the British guy from yesterday’s bus. Turns out, we were actually not only in the same hostel in Београд [Belgrade], but even the same room! I was just way too tired to be social that day. I dub me the Unforgiven III of the trip.

We then spent the rest of the day visiting together. First we climbed to the yellow fortress, a nice point of view in the East of Sarajevo, and then to the White fortress, an even much better place. Although it’s in total ruin, so I really wonder where the three euros of the entry fee go… Anyway, the sight was breathtaking, despite the cloud cover.

We climbed down (this city AIN’T flat) to get lunch, and for once I tried a local specialty, the čevapičići, and I converted Ben to Cockta.

Then we took the cable-car, which was expensive, but very well worth it! The ascent last for a good 10 min, going up about 500 m. Even the White Fortress look small and far down from the top! And best of all, this cable-car is totally silent, as such as as soon as we left the station, the calm was absolute. Imagine hanging in the air, hundreds of meters above a mighty large city, in complete silence.

After a few pictures at the top, we went to see the remant of the 1984 Olympics bobsleigh track, that we followed down. It’s a kind of unique experience, as you can just walk down in it.

When the track ended, we decided to finish by foot instead of going back to the cable car. Oh boy! Over an hour of walking on concrete roads. And I mean STEEP concrete roads. Steep like my poor old car would probably struggle to climb. It was exhausting to fight that hard against gravity, but we finally made it back to the ottoman bridge where the Archduke Franz Ferdinand was shot, ultimately escalating into WWI.

It seems crazy to me that the most traumatic years of moder era started out in such a place as Sarajevo. It feels so random.

We went for a deserved beer, and then on our separate way.

Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again in Mostar?