Belgrade, Serbia, to Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina (or eight hours on a bus to do 300km)

I actually slept my last night in Serbia. Wow! I got up around 8:00 and had my coffee right away so that it would have time to percolate through me before my eight-hour bus ride. Needless to say, a final coffee off Trg Republike was out of the question! I then dressed and went out to get some vittles for the ride, going to the Maxi behind the National Museum.

It was only about nine when I got in. I finished most of my packing and spent some time enjoying the internet connection before packing my electronics bag and doing a final sweep of the apartment. I headed out around 10:30, with my bus being at 11:30.

I got to the bus station around 10:45, which sounds like I was super early, but I wanted to change some money and also be one of the first on the bus to ensure I’d get a window seat. First, I used the facilities so I could break up a 500RSD note to have some change for the day.

Here’s a woman’s bathroom stall at the Belgrade bus station:

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I knew I would eventually encounter these in my travels, but I hadn’t expected it to be in Belgrade! I had no trouble using it, but it felt incongruous to the modern world around me!

In the privacy of the stall, I sorted out my money, keeping 400 or 500RSD in small notes on me for the day, and then took the rest to one of the many money exchange windows. I asked the lady if she spoke English. She said said no very curtly and then started going through her phone. “Euros, please?” I asked her in Serbian and she blatantly ignored me. Okay, fine. I went to the next window and tried again with “Do you speak English?” Nope. But he didn’t dismiss me, so I said, in Serbian what I was pretty sure was, “Please, from dinar to euro.” The guy’s head whipped up and he quirked a smile. I passed him my bills and he sorted them, handing back a few small notes. “45 euro,” he said in perfect English! That was about what I expected to get, so I said okay, then thank you, in Serbian. He wished me a nice trip… in English.

Like in Nish, you need a ticket to go out to the platforms. Unlike in Nish, the system in Belgrade is more antiquated, so you get a token with your ticket rather than a bar code. I had been holding onto my token for dear life since I bought my ticket yesterday! A a security guard got my suitcase through the turnstile while I dealt with the token.

One of the reasons I made sure I had small notes on me was that I was putting a suitcase under the bus and I had to pay 50RSD for that in Nish. So I was thrown for a loop when the driver said, “Shto dinara.” I repeated what he said because I didn’t understand at first. “Da, shto,” he replied. I thought for a second and then trigged onto the fact that shto is 100! Well, 100 is sto in Bulgarian, but close enough. I pulled out a 100RSD note and said, “Shto?” The driver replied, in perfect English, “That’s it, thank you!”

I climbed on board and got one of the last window seats. The bus was packed.

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Pretty building by the bus station.

The bus station is right by the river, so we were quickly in New Belgrade and before I could blink, we were out in the country.

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I can’t remember why I took this picture!

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This part of Serbia is so flat and there are just cornfields as far as the eye can see. It’s rather like Iowa. 🙂

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We made a few stops along the way and eventually pulled into the bus station at Šabac. I’m not sure where the open seats came from as I was sure we were full, but more people sat down!

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Crossing the Sava yet again.

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Serbia feels more prosperous than does Bulgaria. All the Bulgarian towns and villages I visited looked rather alike, well tended, but only at the bare minimum. They were rather shabby or forlorn. The Serbian houses are in a similar style, but have more ornamentation. There are more flowers and greenery and the pavement is in better condition.

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This doesn’t look up to code…

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Two hours into our eight-hour trip, we pulled into a truck stop for smoke and pee breaks. I was happy about that since there was no bathroom on the bus!

Before long, we were at the Serbian/Bosnian border. Like the Alaska Highway along the Yukon/BC border, we went in and out of Bosnia a few times before getting to the official border crossing.

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First glimpse of Bosnia in the distance.

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Our side of the river was Serbia, the other side was Bosnia.

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A border officer boarded the bus and got our ID cards and passports. They were returned in short order with no stamps, so I figured that was the customs stamp. Sure enough, we moved ahead to another queue and had to give our documents back. The ID cards came back quickly, then the passports, this time with a stamp. And that was it. Welcome to BiH — Bosna i Hercegovina!

My first Bosnian mosque and minaret were right over the border.

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I was startled by how literal the border was in terms of geographic change. We moved into a lush green mountainous region that reminded me of “my” part of Bulgaria, only more prosperous (but less prosperous than Serbia).

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We continued to make stops and pack people on board. Some folks stood for the last three hours to Sarajevo! If there was free wifi and a city sign, I would check Google Maps to track my progress. Here’s Vlasenica, 90KM, or about three hours, from Sarajevo!

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And here’s Sokolac, 43KM and two hours away…

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The slow going was in part because we were doing a milk run and in part because of the super twisty mountain road that the driver took slowly while talking on his cell phone most of the way… The scenery, when I could see it, made up for some of the queasiness!

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One final detour (I forget where, but it was definitely a detour as we went the wrong way for Sarajevo and had to double back)…

 

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And then, Sarajevo, under a cover of darkness. I was stunned to see that the core of the city is in a valley, with buildings climbing up the sides. I stopped counting the number of lit up minarets at six.

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Incredibly, the bus had to climb even higher to get to the bus station. By this point, I was sure I was going to die on that bus and that we were never going to get there. But that said, I’m someone who enjoys the journey, especially when it’s new, and the day had really gone by very fast. I was just ready to land.

We’d had a lot of moments during the day when we could get off for a leg stretch or a pee, so when everyone seemed ready to get off at a stop, I was rather in disbelief that we’d arrived. “Istočno?” I asked my seat mate. She smiled and said, “Yes!” We had arrived!!!

My transfer was supposed to pick me up at 7:30 and we were a little early. I thought I might have time to get some food (I’d eaten snacks just before and after the border crossing, but was too queasy to do so again after), but, nope. There was a guy on the platform holding up a huge sign that said “MRS. REA.” I was pretty sure that was me, LOL!

It was indeed my transfer, Dennis, and he was super friendly. His English isn’t that good, but he did his best to point things out and engage in conversation. The traffic was unbelievable and the ride to old town took ages. I’m sure a taxi ride would have cost me a lot more than the 10 euro I was expected to pay him and was so happy I’d gone with the transfer.

I mentioned that I needed food and he offered to stop en route, but I said that if there was something close by that I could walk to, I preferred to get home and go out again. So as we came into old town, he pointed to what appeared to be a pedestrian street and said that that’s where I should go for dinner and that it was a straight shot down from the house (I didn’t realise just how literally he meant down — I should never have complained about the hill in Maluk Izvor!). Oh, and he did ask me what I wanted specifically, so he could send me straight there, but I said I’m not picky and would take whatever I found!

We got in and he explained a few things about the house to me. I passed him 20 euro for the ride and he gave me 20KM in change, telling me that anything I read about being able to use the euro might apply in downtown Sarajevo, but not in old town, so I better get some marks. I’ll hit an ATM tomorrow. The KM will actually be easier for me than the euro as they are roughly equal to BGN, so I’m used to the conversion rate. Then, I was left to settle in.

The apartment feels really huge (I’ll post pictures tomorrow) since it has a kitchen with a door, a bathroom, an L-shaped hallway, a bedroom, and a living/dining/second bedroom! Unlike other places I’ve stayed, this one isn’t bare and has had long-term tenants, so there is a lot of stuff lying around and I’ll have to be careful not spread out too much lest I forget something. The kitchen and bathroom aren’t as clean as I would have liked, but, really, it’s fine and I should be comfortable here for a week once I sort myself out.

I hiked down to the pedestrian street and look forward to going again when I’m not so knackered and famished as it’s a really interesting place! I heard a lot of Arabic and my headscarf was not out of place. I really didn’t want to overthink dinner so I went to the first place I saw the locals queuing up and ended up with a huge lamb donair sandwich for 2KM (about 1.50CAD). It was surprisingly bland (I’m glad I accepted the spicy stuff they offered), but hit the spot, offering a good balance of bread, light meat, and lots of veggies.

To get to the house, I have to open the pedestrian door to a garage, cross the garage, open another door, and cross a yard. Coming up my street, I realised with a sinking feeling that I hadn’t made note of any landmarks around my garage entrance. It was dark-coloured, but so were a lot of other doors. Just as I was ready to double back, sure that I’d missed it, I saw it! I was glad to get in as it was getting cold (the house is actually rather cold right now and I hope I’ll be comfortable tonight).

I cannot believe that I’m in Sarajevo!

Or that it takes eight hours to go from Belgrade to Sarajevo on a bus…

Belgrade to Sarajevo Bus Information

This morning, I went to the Belgrade bus station to get information on a bus to Sarajevo tomorrow. Their website (which has a very good English translation) put the only bus as being at 4PM with an arrival at 11PM. My host in Sarajevo said that a late arrival would not be a problem and he would arrange a transfer for me for 10 Euro (which I knew was a bit less than a legitimate taxi).

But I really did not want to arrive that late. For one thing, I have to leave my apartment by the late morning and the last thing I wanted was to have to figure out where to kill a few hours while dragging all my luggage. So I decided to go down to the bus station and see if there might be other buses that are not on their website for whatever reason. Like in Bulgaria, there are numerous carriers and the information isn’t centralised yet.

Based on my arrival at the Belgrade bus station, I expected that getting information would be frustrating and complicated because there didn’t seem to be a central point of information. Well, there was ample signage in English directing you to where to buy tickets! I went up to kiosk and asked the man if he spoke English. He haltingly replied, “15 or 16,” pointing in the direction he wanted me to go. There was no one at window 15, but there was at window 16 and he spoke fluent English. Now, yes, it would have been nice if they had an “English spoken here” sign on the kiosk window, but that was still good service! I cannot get over how eager Serbians are help.

The man at window 16 told me that there are morning buses, including one at 11:30, which was perfect. I could have a slow morning, pack, and then walk the 1KM to the bus station. He didn’t have more information than that for me, like if there’s a transfer or which bus station I would get to in Sarajevo. You see, there are two bus stations in Sarajevo. One is in the city, very near my apartment, but the other, Istočno Sarajaveo (East Sarajevo) is quite a bit out and near the airport. I would need the transfer from that one. I bought the ticket (2,510RSD or about 30CAD) and the clerk pointed to it to show me what platform to go to tomorrow.

When I got in some time later (I may have stopped at a cafe for a macchiato along the way and then for a to-go slice of pizza), I tried to get more information about my ride tomorrow. I was able to confirm from the ticket that I’m going to Istočno Sarajevo and so I was able to let my host know that I’m coming in around 7:30PM and definitely need the transfer. Yes, that’s an eight-hour bus ride to do 300KM… Apparently, the wait at the border is really long.

I got on Google and found a bus company that has buses from Belgrade to Sarajevo at 6:00, 9:45, and 12:30. Still nothing about the 11:30 trip!

I examined my ticket more closely and realised that it might have the name of a bus line on it. I popped that info into Google and voilà! I finally found some information on the 11:30 am bus from Belgrade to Sarajevo.

So all that to say, you can’t really rely on Google or a site like rome2rio.com in the Balkans to give you all the answers. It’s worth it to go directly to the bus or train station to get the information in person.

Bosnia’s official currency is the Convertible Mark (KM), but the Euro has widespread use and research tells me not to bother getting any KM. So tomorrow, I will convert as many of my remaining dinars as I can into Euro. I’m glad to be going into a more “universal” currency. I was left with a handful of BGN that is now useless to me and hope that I won’t have as many dinar left. Since I have my bus ticket already, I’ll leave myself perhaps 200RSD for incidentals for the bus ride in case with have a rest stop on the Serbian side after buying myself snacks for the very long day ahead. I hope this bus has a bathroom… The ones to Nish and Belgrade didn’t!

Trying To Not Get Too Comfortable

It was a working day today, which was tough since I really don’t have a suitable workstation. The best I could do was sit on the credenza and lean against the wall! Needless to say, I worked in short bursts with lots of breaks! But I appreciate discovering that I can work in conditions like these. In Plovdiv, I had a twin bed with the long side against the wall, so I was able to sit on the bed, lean against the wall, and type from my lap. So I’m definitely learning to make my job more portable.

I went out in the early afternoon for a jig around the block and got a chicken gyros to go for my lunch. Yum! I think I got a free upgrade because my sandwich today was bigger than the one the other night!

After much reflection, I decided not to prolong my stay in Belgrade/Serbia and to move on to Sarajevo in Bosnia and Herzegovina. So I’m expected there very late Friday night. The bus situation to get there sounds complicated, so I think I’ll put figuring that out on Thursday’s to-do list (tomorrow!) so I know what I’m doing Friday. Housing in Sarajevo is so cheap there are no weekly rates. So I’m only staying six nights, to avoid having to travel again on a Friday, which messes with my work availability over the weekend.

Bosnian and Serbian are essentially the same language, more like dialects, so the bit of linguistic progress I’ve made here will serve me well there! It’s rather surreal to be going to Sarajevo, to be honest. It’s one of those places that I grew up to believe was a nightmare. But I know better and look forward to experiencing this historic city that I’m told has a distinctly Eastern feel and strong Islamic culture.

I gave up on work around 6:30 and headed to Skadarlija Street for an authentic Serbian meal. I never did do that in Bulgaria and I knew Serbian is very similar, with plain grilled meats and even featuring the same “shopska salata,” so that would ease my guilt a bit. All the restaurants on the street are rated at about the same level, so I picked one pretty much at random and ordered a glass of white wine.

The street didn’t have a lot of people, but it wasn’t quiet as there was some nice music playing. The temperature was just comfortable enough to sit outside in a tee shirt. So the ambiance was truly lovely.

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Dinner was pretty bad, though, and now I am going to stop kicking myself over never having a proper Bulgarian meal at a restaurant. The salad was excellent, but that’s only because of how fresh the produce is. There’s no dressing on it. You just get chopped tomatoes, sweet red peppers, onions, cucumber, and lettuce, with a salty grated cheese over top. You’re supposed to add your own oil and vinegar, but with the veggies being so fresh, I just had the salad plain rather than try to get the dressing proportions right. I could see myself enjoying the salad with a side of cold salami and bread, but, really, if this is pretty much the national food of Bulgaria and Serbia, it says a lot about how unimaginative the cuisine is and how terrible it must be when there’s no fresh produce.

Dinner turned out to be what was essentially “pork Kiev,” meat rolled around cheese and butter and deep fried. As is the case in Bulgaria, the food was served cold to tepid, to the point that the frozen veggies that I would have normally enjoyed were not edible. I do have to say that the anemic looking fries were actually tasty! The sauce was mayonnaise-based, so I did not have any.

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I cut into the meat thing and a real torrent of butter poured out, which is why I liken the dish to chicken Kiev.

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I had a choice of cheese or no cheese on the salad. I chose cheese and refused bread. I chose wisely. Yum!

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Tipping is slowly becoming part of the cultural and expectations in Serbia and servers are not shy to ask for one! The service tonight was impeccable, so I would have tipped anyway. The meal wasn’t cheap, 1,550RSD, 1,800RSD with the tip (23CAD) and I know I could have had a lot more for my money elsewhere. But of that, a full third of the price was for the salad and wine, which I felt were well worth what I paid for them, I got dinner in a nice setting, and now I can stop kicking myself over not having any traditional Bulgarian meals. I know from talking to locals and reading other restaurant menus that what I had tonight was perfectly average Serbian food at an average price and that I didn’t get taken by this restaurant because of its location.

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I then ambled over to Knez Mihailova Street to check out the vibe after dark (sedate on a weeknight) and find an ice cream. I encountered what appears to be the only young person in Belgrade who doesn’t speak a word of English, but I know “chocolate,” “small,” “cone,” “please,” “thank you,” and my numbers, so the transaction went smoothly. Chocolate is pretty much a universally similar word, small is very close to the Bulgarian for small (which was part of the name of the village where I lived, so easy to remember), cone is just like the French but with  a K (kornet), I’ve been practicing please and thank you, and the numbers are similar to Bulgarian. So once again, let me remind you that I’m not some sort of linguistic genius. Just take this as further proof that the more languages you are exposed to, the easier it gets to pick up bits and pieces of other ones!

Coming back, I noticed this sign at the Belgrade Cultural Centre just off Trg Republike and did a double take. That’s the chorus of “the French song” my friends Saskia and Darrel (The Great Plains) sing. I promptly emailed them the picture! Oh, you’re probably wondering what that says: “The joy of love lasts but a moment. Heartbreak lasts a lifetime.” It’s not a happy song. 🙂

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This was my first day living my “normal” life in Belgrade and lack of a workspace notwithstanding, it was pretty good! The location here really is amazing. If I’d been at the other apartment I’d booked, I would have been twice as far away from the square. Still close, but not close enough that I would have headed to Skadarlija tonight and detoured by way of Knez Mihailova. I hope that my location in “old town” Sarajevo is as good!