I have long been fascinated by Sarajevo which has been called the Jerusalem of Europe.
In the town centre, Orthodox and Catholic churches, mosques and synagogues, are all side by side. Until the Second World War, 20 per cent of Sarajevo’s population were Sephardic Jews. People of all religions lived here peacefully alongside each other for years. Indeed, during the Bosnian war and the brutal siege of Sarajevo, many inhabitants still worked together, even though this was an ethnic conflict. There are Free Palestine signs everywhere.
I am here with my youngest child, my 20-something who like many of her generation has discovered the Balkans as a source of cheap holidays, incredible history and for its rave scene.
There is the beautiful Adriatic coast of Croatia, of course, but if you want to understand something of the soul of the region, go to Sarajevo. It’s a remarkable place. The siege of Sarajevo, nearly four years was longer than the siege of Leningrad. The snipers (Serbian people) were up in the hills. There was no food, no electricity yet only 10 years earlier in 1984 this sophisticated city has hosted the winter Olympics. We went up in a cable car to see the abandoned bobsleigh runs.
Up in the hills you can get a handle on the place. You can take in as many war stories as you like, in official museums, or we preferred the strange little unofficial places that some have turned their homes into.
Sarajevo has always been a crucible of history. You can stand on the exact spot where Gavrilo Princep shot Franz Ferdinand which precipitated the first world war. We took selfies there as everyone does while locals will stop and give you their version of events, this is a sophisticated place, where history is alive and contested.
But it’s not all just educational. The truth is we are having a lovely time. There is so much to see and to do. I eat cevapi, little grilled sausages in pockets of fresh bread. My vegetarian daughter eats a lot of burek (pastries), salads, aubergines, dolma, stews, beans. She smokes shisha pipes while I have a gin and tonic, and we watch the world go by. In Bascarsija, the old town, there is a maze of shops and places to eat or buy fake designer bags or feed the pigeons. It is enchanting.
This city where it was once dangerous to leave the house to try to find bread is full of groovy bars. Try Tito’s for instance. Or hang out in the infamous Holiday Inn (hoteleuropegroup.ba) by the infamous “sniper’s ally” where all the war reporters gathered. This is a strange blocky yellow building with has not much else going for it.
Everything you want to see is walkable and you get to appreciate the dark humour of people who went through hell. The Canned Beef monument for instance! I love a sarcastic public monument. During the siege, the UN air-dropped in food that had been left over from Vietnam and was years past its sell-by date. Even the dogs wouldn’t eat it.
In the market if one looks down — and there are many free walking guided tours — you can see the imprints of the mortar fire. These are the infamous Sarajevo roses. Some people want to talk politics and some don’t. In a bar that only plays Tom Waits , festooned with Bosniak slogans and dates of genocides they make their stance very clear.
But where else can you walk beside a river and find a square named after Susan Sontag who came here when no one else except war correspondents would? She decided to stage a play which would keep culture alive in near impossible conditions with a showing of Waiting for Godot. They wanted to preserve normality. For Sontag, it was an act of conscience.
The terrible conflict was ignored for so long by the west it is shameful yet I found another unlikely hero on a tour of “the tunnels of hope" (tunnels built to get the wounded and supplies in and out of the besieged city) in the unlikely form of Bruce Dickinson, former singer of Iron Maiden.
A young guy in a Metallica T-shirt explained how Dickinson brought his solo bands into the war zone and performed. U2 may have turned up at the end of the siege, but no other acts went in during it. Motorhead had turned the gig down, but Dickinson was gung-ho. The band drove in on the back of a yellow truck with a Roadrunner mural on the side, not a military vehicle, and what they saw was life-changing. They saw people gunned down in front of them, levels of deprivation that were “medieval”. In other words, they saw what war was, what happens when all the basics of life are taken away. Dickinson put himself in real danger to do this, and I found it awe-inspiring. All hail the international language of Heavy Metal!
Sarajevo is full of stories and if you tire of this place you can visit picturesque Mostar not far away. But for me it was enough to relax in a proper Hamman in our hotel. Sarajevo might not be your average city break because it is not an average sort of place. It is extraordinary.
To watch the moon rise over the mosque as couples can noodle on the bridge, in a place steeped in blood and faith and history is unforgettable.
Suzanne stayed at İsa Begov Hamam Hotel, which has rooms from £100 per night. booking.com
