In Picturesque Dubrovnik

I rented a room in the old Town through airbnb, but due to problems with their wi-fi, they hadn’t received my reservation. Fortunately, I was upgraded to the only room available, a double bed on the top floor, with a partial view of the city, and at the high end of the city to boot!

After dropping my bag, I took the cable car to the mountaintop overlooking the city while there was still some daylight. At the top, besides taking in the incredible view at sunset, I checked out a small museum dedicated to the attack on city by the Serb and Montenegrin forces. Though Dubrovnik did not suffer as greatly as Sarajevo, the historical city was shelled, and the entire region around the city was occupied by Serb and Montenegrin forces before Croatian forces launched a counter-offensive.

Later in the evening, I enjoyed a few pints at one of the two Irish pubs within the walls of the Old Town, with a couple from Glasgow, Colin and Lorna, as we watched “The Famous Glasgow Celtic” (as Colin insists I call them) play valiantly to 3-3 draw against Manchester City. Afterward we discussed well into the wee hours the embarrassing state of politics in both our countries with the recent Brexit vote and the on-going buffoonery and bombast of Mr. Comb-over.

Oh, I’m finally giving my lungs a break from the second-hand smoke, as Croatia does respect non-smokers!

Day 2, Dubrovnik

I managed to beat the cruise ship crowd as I walked the walls of the fortress. The ninety-minute walk along the wall was like doing an elliptical there are so many stairs. I’m glad I did it early in the day, because the sun was beating down as if it were July. After a while, I tired of taking pictures, because the scenery is all the same (awesome) and I won’t do it justice.

Wandering the streets afterward, I passed zillions of little shops, cafes, and restaurants, all with signs alerting customers that they don’t except Euros. (Apparently the cruise people are notorious for trying this.) Another big draw is the “Game of Thrones” crowd, with numerous tours and gifts shops associated with the television series...(never watched it, don’t care…probably will kick myself later, if I ever do choose to watch the show.)

After having a shrimp and risotto lunch, I checked out another museum, “War Photo Limited”. It wasn’t exactly what I expected: most of the exhibit consisted of photos from on-going conflict in Syria and Iraq, though the second floor also had photos from the “Homeland War” as Croats like to call their war for independence.

It wasn’t until later in the day that I discovered high up on an alley/side street two other options for lunch, an Indian restaurant, and right next door, a Korean chicken restaurant. Oh well, maybe next time I’m in town.

There were also plenty of places of worship, at least three Catholic churches and a monastery, an Orthodox Church, a mosque and a synagogue, though the latter two are tucked away in the anonymity of stony labyrinth of alleyways.

Evening found me back in the Irish pub, watching Manchester United, with a South African couple. Behind me there was a table of college age girls whose language usage and accents sounded like they might be from New York, especially given that RIT has a satellite campus in Dubrovnik. Turns out they were students from Geneseo, though I didn’t get any more information out of them, as they were paying their bill, when I finally inquired…

By the way, I did meander outside of the Old Town, looking for the RIT “campus”. It’s located less than ten minutes away. I knew the general location, but I didn’t have a map with me. So the first time I walked by it I totally missed it, but I caught sight of the orange sign on my way back to town. Pretty non-descript building, but the surroundings are superb. 

On the Road to Dubrovnik

Absorbing the scenery on the six-hour bus ride from to Dubrovnik, Croatia, I notice that on the outskirts of Sarajevo there is a larger presence of thoroughly modern looking buildings, though they are still scattered among the numerous incomplete, perhaps abandoned, traditional residential construction sites that are everywhere.

The route south follows the river through steep and craggy mountainous terrain. At several points, I spy what I think are fish farms on the river. Though we cross the river in two different locations in Mostar, I do not catch a glimpse of the famous “Old Bridge”. The further we go, the more the mountains become rounded, reminding me of the scenery around the Salinas Valley. As we continued south from Mostar, steeples quickly replace minarets, as the area is predominately Catholic and Croat.

Getting closer to the coast of the Adriatic, citrus trees replace vineyards, and the temperature is noticeably warmer than when I could see my breath this morning walking to the Sarajevo bus station. We have to go through passport checks three times in the space of an hour, as we cross into Croatia, back into the sliver of shoreline of Bosnia, and back again into Croatia. I notice that some of the place name signs, which are printed in both Latin and Cyrillic, have been altered so that the Cyrillic is painted out…obviously there’s no love lost for Serbs in Croatia.

Sorry, no photos, the bus windows were hazy. Oh, almost forgot: all along the coastal highway, they have wild boar crossing signs like our deer crossing signs.

A Day for Meandering

So despite the fact that I had every intention of visiting another museum today, my feet took me on a detour, and I went meandering instead. I slowly worked my way up the sloping southeast corner of the city, not far from where I’m staying. Here are a few photos of the day's adventure.

This guy with the cane taking the hill in stride, hope I  can do this when I''m his age!

An aswesome perspective on the sheer cliff beneath the White Fortress.

With temperatures dropping, I've seen smoke rising from chimneys already. 

My friends and I taking a break at a cafe with an amazingly scenic view of the city.

Ripening grapes trying to make an escape over the garden wall.

Squinting selfie over Sarajevo.

Check out this backyard: a miniature football pitch with artificial turf.

This generous Sarajevan was tending to his rooftop garden, and handed down two bunches of sweet grapes as I walked by. I wonder if he'd noticed the grapes on the Five Sons Winery shirt I was wearing?

City Hall

An unusual spot for a stove, this photo is taken at one of the residences converted from an old train station.

Just when you think you're nearly to the top, you come to the realization that it's merely another plateau. 

New friends

Practicing a tightrope walk in the park.

A bus stand advert for a Red Bull-sponsored event at the famous Mostar Bridge. I pity the poor unknowing tourist who plans on getting a taste of Mostar on this day.

The History Museum of BiH (part 2)

As mentioned previously, this museum is suffering from neglect and underfunding, but there are still a few gems to be seen.

“Sarajevo Surrounded” is an exhibit that displays various items form the Siege is located on the second floor of the museum. One thing that caught my eye was the primitive satellite phone that the president of the country used to communicate with the outside world. Technology has come a long way since the mid-1990s, but this device was undoubtedly invaluable during the Siege.

This klunky satellite phone was the president's only secure communication beyond the perimeters of the Siege.

Identity cards and other personal belonging of three victims (from one of the Markale market shellings?) 

Books that were partially shredded by shrapnel from exploding mortar rounds.

A traveling exhibition at the History Museum featured black and white photos taken by Tim Loveless during his time working as a photographer working for the ICTY documenting the genocide at Srebrenica. I also found an invaluable website resource posted on the wide screen display monitor, which gives a great deal of information on the Srebrenica genocide, and the subsequent identification process at the mass burial sites. 

Rather than showing you photos of photos, here a link to another photo exhibit on display, this one by a Scottish aid worker, Jim Marshall. The side-by-side photos compare the time immediately following the Dayton Peace Accords of 1995, with those of 2011. It's amazing that some of these building have been restored after the extensive damage that they suffered during the war.

And for something totally off the wall, there was a multi-media exhibit on the East and West German “counter-culture” avant-garde music and art scene in 1970s and 80s featuring bands that I had never ever heard of, which after hearing a few samples—I realized I hadn’t missed out on much, though I do have to give credit to the East German musician who fabricated a saxophone out of a moped muffler.

Resourceful, or just plain weird?

Mysteriously, when I came back down to the ground floor, the stairwell to the basement was roped off…though I was distinctly informed when earlier greeted by the ticket booth person that there was an exhibit downstairs as well…but alas, I didn’t create a scene. Perhaps the now torrential rain was flooding the building. I don’t know even know what was down there, as there was absolutely no signage, perhaps Cold war stuff. If that was the case I got plenty of that when I visited the café located on the backside of the museum.

Café Tito has all the Cold War Yugoslavia memorabilia one could possibly image. The walls are plastered with photos of Tito, the partisan leader of World War II who ruled the newborn country between 1945 and his death in 1980. Despite whatever you might think of his authoritarian leadership style, he managed to keep the fear of the state at the forefront, upstaging any ethnic fear-mongering.

In the gardens surrounding the café, there are a few pieces of random military equipment from World War II: a Croatian armored train car, an American Stuart light tank, a Wiley Jeep, and assorted artillery pieces.

Death to Fascism, Freedom to the People!

Waiting for the rain to let up at the outdoor cafe. An American Jeep is part of the playground here. 

Džeko Hodžić’s “Apocalypse”

(History Museum of BiH: part 1)

I paid a visit to History Museum of BiH the other day, after having passed it on numerous occasions. The first time I walked by, I thought it was closed, or more truthfully, shuttered…but no, it’s just never truly recovered from the being on the front line of the war.

It is located on the street that was named “sniper alley” during the war, and is directly across from the former Yugoslav army complex, now a portion of which is the home of the US embassy. The facade is crumbling; the concrete steps are in shambles. There’s a framework of a German World War II glider located outside the entrance, which quite frankly doesn’t look like it was intended to be there, but the doors to museum are open. And on this wet September afternoon, if nothing else, it provided an escape from the perpetual drizzle.

The website “Tripadvisor” didn’t have any glowing reviews of the place, or rather, some tourist reviews had confused this shadow of a museum originally dedicated to the rise of Tito and Communist era with its next door neighbor, the Museum of Natural History, which I’ve read had been shuttered for several years due to lack of funds for staff salaries and much needed renovation, though it reopened in 2015.

The colossal three panel work that stands in the lobby is Džeko Hodžić’s “Apocalypse”. (As a non-art history major it looks like a visceral and horrific hybrid of Hieronymus Bosch and Marc Chagall.) On another wall, there is a collection of preliminary sketches and designs that the artist rendered in the 20-year process of creating the piece.

The accompanying plaque only gave a few brief details regarding the Bosnian painter, and did not discuss the painting. Luckily I was able to find a few sources on the internet that give a description of the work. (Of course, if it’s on the internet, it must be true!) An additional caveat: given that the websites are in Bosnian, you’ll have to take my summary/paraphrase of the sometimes cryptic Google-translate-bot language with a grain of salt. So here it goes:

“Apocalypse” is a three-part piece revealing the ruthlessness and senselessness of war, and the suffering associated with it. Though technology and weaponry may change, mankind’s age-old propensity for war and its devastating consequences are always the same: man becomes an animal, whether it’s a beast of a victim.

The left portion is predominantly green symbolizing day, while the right portion is dim red representing night, mysticism, and the principals of Eros and Thanatos are intertwined. The center piece, which consists of real bone fragments, cloth, old shoes, and wiring, represents a grave with a vulture overhead, that at times, turn into human form, wanting to rule the world (rather than the creator).

The presence of animal images on each of the panels uses mythical symbolism to personify man and represent his different characters: fearful and vulnerability white lamb, which offers hope of salvation, is set against the atrocity of wolves and vultures threatening attitude. There is also a reference made to “The Speech of the Birds,” an epic Sufi poem by the Persian poet Attar. 

Even if one didn't have any historical context of Bosnia's recent past, one could easily deduce that something horrific had happened here.

Left panel of "Apocalypse"

The center panel is 3D, so the ribs etc. actually stick out from the rest of the painting.

The right panel of "Apocalypse"

The Museum of Crimes Against Humanity and Genocide, 1992-1995

Not far from the Sarajevo Cathedral, at Ferhadija 17, there’s a small bi-fold sign in the street, and footprints on the pavement directing you to into a recessed hall where you press a doorbell to get buzzed in. Ascending to the second floor, you find a compact museum consisting of historical footage, eyewitness accounts, maps, photos and artifacts documenting the atrocities carried out predominantly by the Bosnian Serb army and paramilitary forces. It also documents the brutality of Croat forces, who also sought to annex large pockets of Croat-populated areas within the borders of BiH. The museum presents a great deal of information on Siege of Sarajevo, the multitude of concentration camps and mass graves throughout BiH, the Srebrenica Massacre, as well as information on the actions of the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY). 

The museum includes a great deal of ICTY documentation, as well as footage of trial proceedings.

The museum highlights the success of the ICTY, though obviously, many perpetrators will never be brought to justice.

Eyewitness testimonies include those who were imprisoned, those who witnessed the deaths of family members, as well as those who recounted being raped.

The sheer number of concentration camps that existed strains the limits of comprehension.

Lest one think that all this is just fabrication of myth, here is a photo taken by Bosnian Serb paramilitaries brazenly documenting their own brutality, much like the Nazis did during the Holocaust.

Though I had previously read numerous accounts of mercenaries fighting in Croatia and Bosnia, I was not familiar with the Greek and Russian involvement.

Greek mercenaries meeting with General Mladic, commander of Bosnian Serb forces, before the Srebenica massacre.

Greeks who participated in the occupation of Srebrenica, July 1995

Russians in Visegrad, 1993

Another photo that captures the irony of the international community's action/inaction is this memento from a Ukrainian unit that was tasked with protecting a UN "safe area" in Eastern BiH.

Note the "safe area" in flames in the background.

Sarajevo's version of Romeo and Juliet

Finding humanity in the midst of inhumanity is paramount to exploring beyond the cold and impersonal statistics of tragic events like the conflict in Bosnia. One such news story, and the subsequent documentary on the personal backgrounds of the victims and their families, stands out in my memory.

In May 1993, over a year into the bloody Siege of Sarajevo, a story emerged that recaptured the attention of the world after months of horrific stories of suffering there and elsewhere in Bosnia-Herzegovina had become commonplace.

A young couple, a 24 year-old Serb, Bosko Brckic, and his girlfriend, Admira Ismic, a Muslim, were killed by snipers while attempting to flee the city. Bosko was killed instantly, while Admira was mortally wounded. She survived long enough to clutch her lifeless boyfriend before dying. Their bodies remained together in no-man’s-land on the Vrbana bridge for four days, until Serb fighters forced several Muslim prisoners to recover the bodies in the middle of the night.

The graves of Bosko and Admira in Lion Cemetery,  Sarajevo. The remains of reporter Kurt Schork are buried next to them.

One of the journalists who wrote about the incident, Kurt Schork, was later killed in 2000, while working on assignment during  the civil war in Sierra Leone. As per his wishes, he was cremated and a portion of his ashes are buried next to the couple’s grave.

In 1994, while the war was still in progress, the PBS program Frontline broadcast an in-depth documentary on the incident. The documentary interviewed family and friends of the couple, exploring some of the economic and ethical dilemmas that people are confronted with daily during wartime. Such “grey areas” included dealings with powerful criminal elements, the black market, mandatory service, suspicions of shifting allegiances, and betrayal. Here is the entire piece, though the audio is a bit distorted in the opening few minutes, it is still discernible, .

Radio Free Europe featured a piece on the production of a music video made by a classic Yugoslav rock band 20 years after event:

http://www.rferl.org/content/bosnia-love-story-sarajevo-war/24990732.html

"The Feast of Sacrifice" or Eid-al-Adha

I didn't have anything monumental planned for today, but I decided to walk downtown to restock my groceries. In the distance, I heard the horns and drums of a small ensemble playing, but it didn't dawn on me. I kept walking, and then I remembered that my landlady was home, when I left...that was also unusual.

But I've never been one to deduce things from subtle clues that surround me, even though I love reading mysteries. It wasn't until I started passing darkened stores that I realized that today must be a holiday in Bosnia.

The Feast of the Sacrifice, Eid-al-Adha,  is a Muslim holiday that commemorates Ibrahim's (Abraham's) willingness to sacrifice Ishmael (Isaac) at Allah's (God's) command. (Isn't it funny how, most Americans see Muslims as strange, yet we share much of the same heritage?) It is considered the more significant of the two Eid holidays, the other being Eid al-Fitr, the "breaking of the fast" at the end of the month of Ramadan.

Eid-al-Adha doesn't fall on the same date of our (Gregorian) calendar every year, nor is it observed on the same date in each country.  It is traditionally celebrated by people attending mosque, dressing up and visiting neighbors, and slaughtering animals for a feast. Here is a Washington Post pictorial feature from last year covering two rural Bosnian communities' celebrations.

And here's a YouTube video from the Associated Press archive, showing Bosnians celebrating the holiday during the Siege era. Again this is twenty years old, as evidenced by the footage of  both Russian and American, peacekeepers who were part of  IFOR (Implementation Force) in Bosnia between 1995 and 1996. Another note about this clip: the man who appears in the mosque at the 25 second mark is Alija Izetbegovic, the first president of independent Bosnia, who died in 2003.

Sarajevo's Sacred Heart Cathedral

Sacred Heart Cathedral, with a "Sarajevo Rose" in the foreground, and the memorial to St. John Paul II to the right of the entrance. 

Sacred Heart Cathedral is the largest Roman Catholic Church in Bosnia and is located in Sarajevo's Old Town. It was built in the 1880s, but has been renovated/reconstructed on several occasions, most recently after the church sustained damage during the Siege.

The interior of the church is strikingly beautiful without being "over-the-top" ornate.

This wall painting by Ante Martinovic is a replica of the church's previous artwork.

It's quite evident by the two Sarajevo Roses (one directly in front of the entrance, the other at the base of the western wall) and the accompanying damaged marble at the base of the western exterior, that the church was targeted by Bosnian Serb forces during the Siege.

A "Sarajevo Rose" at the base of the western exterior wall of the cathedral, signifying the site of  civilian deaths by Serb shelling during the four year Siege of Sarajevo. 

The site is also known for the memorial statute of St. John Paul II located next to the entrance of the church.

This statue was erected in 2014, memorializing the Pope's two visits to Sarajevo. 

The church offers English-language masses at noon on Sundays.

FK Željezničar

The neighborhood of Grbavica is home to FK Željezničar, one of the two soccer teams that dominate Sarajevo’s soccer scene. The team derives its name from the railroad workers that founded the club back in 1921. In fact, there is a symbolic railroad engine parked on the edge of playing field. Grbavica stadium was partially destroyed during the Siege of Sarajevo, as it was on the front lines of the furthest Bosnian Serb advance into the city of Sarajevo. Check out this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2mYf9GvrmgY

The stadium now has a reduced capacity of approximately 12,000, and looks like it has indeed, been through a war, but that shouldn’t affect the game, as the pitch itself looks pristine.

Bekric, an FK Željezničar midfielder prepares to take a free kick.

Željezničar has been one of the most successful clubs in the Bosnian Premier League’s relatively short history (2000-present) with 5 league championships, and 5 Bosnian Cups. This is also the club where former Manchester City, and current Roma striker Edin Dzeko started his career.

This year though, Željezničar is off to a slow start, with a record of 2-2-3, and only six goals scored, putting it in 8^th place. The squad is predominately Bosnian, including some players from the Republika Srpska, along with a few foreign players: several Serbians, a Croat, a young Italian defender on loan. They have just signed two new players: one Montenegrin, Markovic, and the other, Krizman, a Croat, both who would have an impact on today’s match.

Željezničar’s opponent is FC Krupa, currently in fourth place and the league’s most prolific scoring side to this point in the season, and as the game unfolds, it is easy to see why. Their number 9, Peric, is big, strong, and fast.

Before the start of the game, the crowd sang a rousing team anthem, with everyone in the stands holding their scarves high. This was followed by a minute of silence for a club legend, Josip Bukal (1945-2016). 

By the eighth minute, Krizman, one of FK Željezničar's debutantes, scores the first goal. The fan club, The Maniacs, have been singing the entire game, and get a little louder, but I'm disappointed by the lack of typical "ultra" fireworks...not a single flare! Maybe they're saving them for the upcoming game against their cross-town rivals, FC Sarajevo.

Meanwhile, about five yards from my corner of the pitch ground level seat,  a pair of 40-something youth team coaches, in their blue Željezničar tracksuits are shouting instructions to the ball boys, complaining about the refereeing, chain smoking, and repeatedly ordering coffee from the stadium vendor who carries a tank of coffee in a backpack equipped with a cup dispenser and long filler hose. It's really comical. If I knew how to turn my camera's flash setting to off, I would so photo-stalk these guys!

FC Krupa will tie the game with this penalty kick

Twenty minutes later, and nearly as many cigarettes, the massive forward for Krupa get sandwiched high and low by blue defenders in the penalty area,  earning a PK; which is converted.

The rest of the first half is rather uneventful, other than the unrelated five minutes of fireworks in sky just to the east of the stadium.

 As the second half starts, so does the rain. I'm sensing a pattern here: September means afternoon and early evening showers in Sarajevo, regardless of how sunny the day may have looked earlier. It does little to deter the chain-smoking youth coaches, who are now snacking on some sort of dessert between cigarettes. The rain only lasts fifteen minutes, but I'm glad the stands have a roof. 

Finally, in the 83rd minute, the other debutante, Markovic, volleys in the winning goal for the home team. Allowing team management to breath a sigh of relief that their recent signings are proving to be a good decision.

The winning squad thanks its loyal supporters.

Watching the Manchester Derby at Sarajevo’s Celtic Pub

Looking to watch arguably one of the biggest games of the Premier League season, (I mean even the NY Times had a feature on the run-up to the game,) I ventured into the Celtic Pub, an establishment tucked away in a cul-de-sac off Sarajevo’s main pedestrian drag.

In a place loaded with framed Celtic jerseys, team photos, and a wall with Celtic legend/Swedish demigod, Henrik Larsson, I would never have thought to pick a soundtrack consisting of extended James Brown tracks, the Commodores' "She's a Brick House," Wild Cherry's "Play That Funky Music," and other 70s R & B classics, but hey, who am I?

Henrik Larsson played for Celtic from 1997-2004, scoring 243 goals. He also played for Feyenoord, Barcelona, and briefly, Manchester United.

The kilt-clad bartender/waiter had opted for the Manchester derby on the big screen inside, while the Glasgow derby, between Celtic and recently recovered from financial disgrace, Rangers, played on a smaller screen outside. So inside I went. 

A thick fog created by chain-smoking patrons clung to the low ceiling. But I endured, sipping a few pints while my United succumbed to City. The majority of  the dozen-or-so patrons cheered for City, probably due to Bosnian striker Edin Dzeko's former affiliation with the club.

United looked as if they were playing short-handed for much of the game, always waiting for the ball to come to them, while City players demonstrated superior anticipation.  Debruyne’s sprinting goal in the 15^th minute was a good example, catching a less than flying Dutchman, Daley Blind, ball watching.

After a second City goal in the 36^th minute, netted by the suspended Aguero understudy, Ihenacho, the mighty Zlatan scored for United in the 42^nd minute, volleying a rebound into the back of the net. In first half injury time United should have taken the lead when City’s keeper Claudio Bravo was outmaneuvered by a United breakaway, but the final shot only trickled toward the open net, allowing a defender to clear the danger.

The second half provided no joy, despite a short-lived uptick in energy for United with the entrance of Andres Herrera and speedy wunderkind Rashford who replaced the surprisingly ineffective wingers, Lindgaard and Mkitaryan, after the break.

Chic’s “Freak Out” capped off the afternoon’s funk medley, as I left, determined to return at a later date, to a seat a little closer to the well-ventilated patio.

...I nearly forgot to mention that the menu lists mead, and obscenely large beers, I remember seeing 3 liter beers called "giraffes". So I just had to investigate further. Nermin, one of the bartenders, gave me a tour of the three floor bar, and brought a "giraffe"' so I could see it. He says the place is much more packed during the winter months, and of course, the line to get in goes down the street for their green beer on St. Patrick's Day.

A "giraffe" order of beer is sure to attract a lot of friends.

Sarajevo's historic eastern heights

While my colleagues are frantically readjusting to the first day of school...I went trekking through the light drizzle, up the formidable plateau, located in the neighborhood of Vratnik, that protects the city from approaches from the East. I also passed through several of the ubiquitous cemeteries that swathe the Sarajevo slopes.

As the afternoon wore on, the 40% chance of rain became 100%. Drivers struggle to maneuver their cars up the winding, cobblestone alleys, with the spinning of tires as if they were on ice. Hobbling down the precarious narrow walkways with the occasional handrail lead me to wonder how on earth do people get around in snow and ice. It's difficult to capture how steep, uneven, confined and serpentine some of "streets" are. I almost expect to see wagon axle grooves in the walls of buildings.

The Šehidska cemetery consists primarily of graves dated from 1992-1995, the time of the Siege. It  is located at the based of the Yellow Bastion, (Žuta tabija) the remnant fortifications can be seen at top left.

At the entrance to the  Šehidska cemetery, this stone honors those who died fighting in the Bosnian war.

The western view from the Yellow Bastion. The actual historic site was strew with trash, though some people sat on the remnant walls taking in the panorama.

The Sarajevsko Brewery (red buildings with gold trim) and  immediately behind, St. Anthony's Franciscan Monastery and Church. Is such proximity coincidence? I think not. During the Siege, the brewery continued to make beer, and was a primary source of drinking water for the city...I'm definitely going to research further.

To the right of the Miljaka River, the recently restored city hall, (Vijećnica) that had served as the city library until it was destroyed during the Siege, as seen from the Yellow Bastion. It made news headlines when it was destroyed, and again when Vedran Smailović, a cellist with the Sarajevo Philharmonic, played music in the ruins. This in turn was the inspiration for Steven Galloway's novel, "The Cellist of Sarajevo", as well as several pieces of contemporary classical music.

Not far from the Yellow Bastion, stands (barely) the ruins of the Jajce Barracks which was destroyed by Serb shelling during the Siege. The barracks was constructed during the First World War for Austro-Hungarian forces, and was later used as a hospital in the war.

Enroute to the Bijela tabija, looking west toward the city. This angle is rather deceptive, as the twin towers directly behind the destroyed barracks are at least 3 miles away.

A view of the Jajce barracks from just outside the White Bastion.

A view from the White Bastion.

The White Bastion, (Bijela tabija) dates back to medieval times, though most of the battlements that can be seen today where constructed in the late 19th century.

A view to the east from within the White Bastion. Steep valleys and a series of bridges lead to the vulnerability of any land invasion approaching to the city.

A view to the west from the White Bastion.

A view of the White Bastion from the steep northeastern slopes of the Sedrenik neighborhood.