Bulgaria has its own history with emphasis that this town is not named after a woman or a saint but from a church. St Sophia Church. The grand scale buildings and guards at gate are enough to make you feel glad you visited. The metro has areas of Roman reign section off between the turnstiles and ticket machine. Martin is a common Bulgarian name according to 25 year old Martin. He left his town to find work. He runs the desk at the hotel and I assumed he’s the massage therapist too at said hotel. The younger bartender upstairs move to Sofia to find a girlfriend he “come from a small town of 10,000” and we could tell he was on Tinder. Our hostel was shitty no sink in kitchen so dishes had to cleaned at bathroom sink so I ended up going to hotel for a few more bucks. Travel buddy stayed at hostel so we’d both get a good nights sleep. Next morning she’s pissed, the groceries we purchased went bad because the refrigerator wasn’t working? No money back but a poor review and never again notion. The woman below weighs 8 tons she holds three coins in her left hand (Christianity) and her name is NOT Sofia.

An Overnight train from Sarajevo to Belgrade. Taxi guys looming at train station to take advantage of your tired and weary ass “ how much? . “ Twenty Euro” then in a quick gesture he tacks on another 5 for each suitcase. No thank you we walk. Yes a Starbucks not yet open but outdoor seating empty after humping luggage uphill and over stairs. We are told once it opened 0700 am by the sullen mean spirited barista “Next time you can not sit there” I immediately say “okay” but my travel buddy is justifiably pissed off. He takes our order and serves burritos cold and since one was touched “ I cannot heat it you touched it “ He was a bona fide asshole. So this is Belgrade. Cold reception leads me to guess what else is next? . My bad impression ended once we trudged to Hostel Che and were greeted by Dutch gal Melissa with her first words “yes” and “sure”. Hot water in kitchen and tea was available and all was good again.

“I feel like we are leaving on high note” I said to my travel colleague. The day before we got on the accordion bus and it was packed! A bunch of youngsters rushed the doors and the driver pissed off for obvious reasons. Moments later the bus slams on the brakes and several people fall. After the commotion everyone got up except one gal who obviously had an ankle dislocated. “Everyone off” and in the distance, wailing siren getting louder. The transport was for her, and later a guy said “oh ya I saw it on the news” huh?. The adrenaline pump we received from the ordeal was used up in the long walk. Today we went to a mall got nails, eyelashes, and a blow out. Taxi to dentist who came highly recommended. Once teeth cleaned (legit) it came to about 100 bucks for everything. The high note was meeting Adis,Haris, Dr Tarik and others who made us feel safe and comfortable. Tonight overnight train to Belgrade. Until the next time adios and goodbye.

Train from Mostar in 2.5 hours. All I knew about here was the Winter Olympics in 1984. There was plenty of snow as we got off train and I felt bad giving a guy stink eye when he said “ 10 euros” via Uber taxi, reading ahead of time can be detrimental as well as necessary because it can portray a place as dangerous. Sarajevo is Not! Hillside homes and narrow streets made more narrow by the storm a day before. Cats and cars have the right away and you better get out of the way quickly! Not a history buff like my travel buddy, I did receive an interpretation of what started World War I. The catalyst necessary for independence, the assassination of the Arch Duke Franz Ferdinand. Maritza whom I met in Split said “ you will love Sarajevo, the people there are Muslim, Orthodox and Christians, they are all nice” what is especially nice is walking in the city among churches, synagogues and mosques and hearing a call to prayer and church bells at the same time. You are right Maritza! Ciao