Trip to Bosnia: What happens when the day got 24 hours only ?
Trip to Bosnia – Chapter 1
How I love these journeys – in less than 24 hours in Bosnia, and already my notebook is full of experiences, sketches, and unforgettable moments. Every such trip feels like an awakening – of the senses, the spirit, the curiosity.
I landed in Sarajevo just before midnight, after a short connecting flight. The tiny airport welcomed me like an old friend – no hustle, no endless conveyor belts or winding corridors. The entire process took just a few minutes, and after a ten-minute walk through the quiet night, I was already standing in front of the guesthouse I had booked in advance. How I love these miniature airports – just 50 meters from the runway, there are apartments, homes, an actual neighborhood where houses face the airstrip. This closeness reminds me again of everything I love about the Balkans – just like in the small airports of Skopje, Belgrade, or Podgorica.
Under the cover of night silence, I found the place – a small guesthouse with only three rooms, shared bathroom and toilet, in the home of a local family. My room was simple but clean, it was very quiet outside, and the price – only 65 shekels. Within a short time, I collapsed into bed just before 2 a.m., exhausted.
I woke to a quiet morning, packed my compact backpack, and immediately went out to catch a bus to the city center – I needed to pick up the rental car and begin the real journey. At the rental station, a young and friendly guy greeted me and explained about the car. When I asked what would happen if I had any issues with the vehicle, he smiled and said simply: “Take my number.” I asked if I could call even at night if needed. “Of course, no problem,” he answered without hesitation. Good to know.
I got into the car and set off toward the first destination – a mountain trail in a green and remote area, not far from the city. On the way, I passed a railway bridge stretching over a beautiful stream, along the road from Sarajevo to Mostar. I stopped to take pictures and saw a few houses with well-kept gardens. I approached a young man standing with his family in the garden. When I asked about the trail I had planned, he said he knew it well – but now, in spring, the path was especially muddy due to melting snow. According to him, it’s better to try the trail in summer, when it’s easier to pass. He even gave me his number, just in case. We parted with a handshake, and I smiled and said, “That means I’ll see you here again in one of the coming summers.” At that moment, I had a feeling it would indeed happen.
I changed plans – and chose a different trail, about a 30-minute drive away. What a great choice: the area was breathtaking – a carpet of fresh green grass, dense forests, snow-capped mountain peaks that looked like a black-and-white drawing, and a beautiful wooden hotel with a restaurant overlooking everything. I set off on the trail climbing the mountain. Right at the start, I encountered a shepherd – he reassured me that the dogs with him were calm. I sighed with relief. Dogs in the wild always spark a lot of fear and tension – shepherd dogs guarding flocks and stray dogs.
As I climbed higher, the mountain emptied of people. Soon enough I was alone, surrounded by trees, a cool breeze, and absolute silence. Suddenly, I noticed red-and-white ribbons tied to tree branches. That’s a warning sign: “mines.” In Bosnia, there are still areas with landmines from the war. I was careful not to stray from the path, my steps became cautious, my walk focused. Light snow began to fall, the ground became slippery. I continued until I found myself in a wide white snowfield, where there weren’t even footprints. In the center, a small stream – meltwater from the snow – cut across the path. I realized I had no choice but to turn back. Still, the experience was wonderful.
I came back down, hungry, had a hearty lunch in the village restaurant at the hotel – and then continued driving east toward the town of Drina, in the Republic of Srpska. As is known, Bosnia is divided into two political entities – the Bosnian part and the Serbian part, which has strong ties to Serbia. Entering the Republic of Srpska is immediately noticeable – Serbian flags everywhere, in contrast to Bosnia, where national presence is quieter.
I stopped in a small Serbian town to have coffee. I sat in the liveliest café, next to two young guys. We started talking about the political situation. According to them, despite the division, Bosnia is one country, with two entities, and they live together relatively peacefully. One of them is even a police officer in Sarajevo. Same language, same currency – just a different administration. Interesting and encouraging to hear.
On the way, I entered a narrow, wild, breathtaking canyon. Cliffs 90 meters high stood before me like giant walls, and between them – a narrow winding road alongside a turquoise, flowing river. As much as I promised myself to keep driving, I couldn’t resist – I stopped, got out, approached the river, and started taking pictures. Along the way – small villages, scattered houses, stunning nature, and the sun slowly setting.
At the end of the day, I arrived at the quiet town of Višegrad. There, above the wide river, proudly stands the ancient Ottoman bridge, like a piece from a historical story. The first two apartment hotels I tried were full – so I found a small and cozy room in a local family’s home, with a shared shower with another Serbian couple – all for just 10 euros. I fell into bed, my head full of impressions from less than 24 hours, and anticipation for the adventures of tomorrow.
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