Beneath the Surface: Exploring the Balkans' Layered Reality (Part 1- Serbia and Bosnia & Herzegovina)

Balkan region, a collection of over ten countries in South-Eastern Europe is steeped in the echoes of a tumultuous history, invite deep reflection rather than mere observation. When I set foot in this complex region, I did not know what exactly to expect but my intent was far from that of a typical traveler seeking picturesque views. Instead, I tried aiming to delve into the profound silence that hangs over the land—a silence thick with the remnants of conflict, identity, and sorrow. Here, the air is charged with the weight of past struggles, each conversation inevitably weaving through threads of nostalgia and remembrance. Yet, amidst these historical shadows, life thrives—a vibrant energy pulsating through bustling markets, along winding roads, and in the expressions of the locals. The Balkans resist simplistic narratives; they beckon those willing to grapple with their intricate reality and understand the paradoxes that only become clear through intimate experience. 

In many of the urban landscapes that I witnessed in the Balkans, one could see the streets reveal a rich tapestry—an overlay of empires, wars, and revolutions layered upon each other. As one walks through Belgrade, or Sarajevo, it’s impossible to escape the historical narratives that one has studied; however, one soon becomes aware of the deeper layers—the unspeakable stories, the half-formed memories, and the collective traumas that subtly shape everyday life. Within this often-painful context, an unexpected beauty emerges—a beauty born not from ease, but rather from resilience and the acceptance of life’s imperfections. It is not a beauty that eschews the glossy allure of postcard images, but instead a complex, hard-earned elegance that springs from the scars of survival. 

This realm lies beyond the superficial understanding of tourists; it cannot be captured in photographs or filtered through myths. Instead, the essence of the Balkans resonates through the very air, the cadence of daily life, and the multitude of voices that speak both of pain and hope. For those who venture to truly know this place, the Balkans present no neat conclusions or straightforward tales. They are a mosaic—individual pieces jagged and uneven, yet forming an undeniable whole, rich with stories waiting to be embraced.

Sarajevo

The first place for me in the Balkans was Sarajevo. When I travelled from the airport to my hotel navigating the twisting lanes, I got myself engaged in a dialogue with the driver. He was inquisitive about India and posed several questions. When I brought up its vast size and massive population, I noticed his eyes flicker with surprise. The sheer scale of it all seemed to boggle his mind; for him, imagining that many individuals congregated in one area was very fantastical. As he spoke, the war lingered in his words, as if its details were common knowledge. But my own understanding was hazy, a vague recollection of the 1990s conflict. I knew there had been turmoil, but the specifics - the parties involved, the reasons behind it - remained unclear. It wasn't until later, when I sat down to read and learn, that the fog began to lift.

On the way to hotel - quite a few buildings like this riddled with bullet holes

Baščaršija market - the historical and cultural heart of Sarajevo

As we travelled, I could see Sarajevo unfolded before me like a delicate, timeworn mural, each thread woven from its rich, albeit turbulent, history. The aftermath of war lingered in the air, evident in the battered walls and fractured pavements, remnants of a conflict that scarred the city deeply. Yet, I could feel a profound stillness enveloping the place, an acceptance of its tumultuous past seemed ingrained in the very stones that made up the streets.

From Sarajevo to Belgrade

We left early in the morning from Sarajevo to Belgrade by road. I was accompanied by drivers/guides Ajdin and Amar, ethnically Bosnian Muslims who were more than just knowledgeable; they were passionate storytellers and also very friendly guys. Their deep understanding of the region’s history, culture, and hidden gems made every stop along the way come alive. Whether it was sharing anecdotes about the Ottoman era, or the history of Visegrad or unraveling the complexities of Yugoslavia, they had me hanging on their every word.

At Mehmed Paša Sokolović Bridge

On our way, in the tranquil landscapes of the Bosnian countryside, two UNESCO World Heritage Sites lingered like echoes from an almost forgotten era. The Mehmed Paša Sokolović Bridge in Visegrad gracefully spans the Drina River ("The Bridge on the Drina" is a very famous book by Nobel prize winning Yugoslav writer Ivo Andric), its timeworn stonework a testament to the artistry of the Ottoman era, conjuring images of past conquerors. Nearby, shrouded in the dense embrace of an ancient forest, rest the Stećci Medieval Tombstones—silent sentinels of a once-mighty Bosnian kingdom that stretched across this fractured land.

Stećci Tombstones

Mokra Gora - Narrow gauge train 

Kustendorf - also known as Drvengrad

We were told Djokovic practiced here before he went international - this is in Serbian side

Drina - natural separation of Bosnia and Serbia

The Drina River, gleaming a deep emerald, meanders through the lush landscape, revealing glimpses of bygone days. A leisurely cruise on its waters unveils the beauty of the old bridge, its graceful arches seemingly floating above the depths, untouched by the relentless passage of time. Nearby, the Dobrun Monastery stands resolute, its Serbian Orthodox architecture commanding respect, just the profound quietude of a site rich in history and spiritual yearning. Our guide narrated many tales how it withstood so many attacks across centuries. 

Venturing further, away from the cacophony of contemporary life, lies Drvengrad—a whimsical creation of filmmaker Emir Kusturica. This wooden town, with its delicate structures, embodies the fragility of memory and imagination. Then there’s the Šargan Eight (Mokra Gora), a nostalgic train ride that winds through the mountains, inviting passengers on a winding expedition where the past intertwines with the present.

Belgrade

Upon entering Belgrade, the contrast with Sarajevo was striking. Both cities boast a deep cultural heritage yet possess unique characters. Sarajevo enchants with its detailed, oriental architecture and the warm hospitality of its residents, while Belgrade captivates with a daring blend of Byzantine, Ottoman, and Austro-Hungarian elements, all set against a backdrop of a lively and cosmopolitan vibe.

Republic Square

Kalemegdan fortress

The temple of Saint Sava

Belgrade was the capital and largest city of former Yugoslavia. During the Yugoslav era, Belgrade was a center of culture and entertainment, with numerous museums, galleries, theaters, and music venues. It's now the capital of Serbia. Among a few others, what caught my attention was the pedestrian pavements especially in some localities like Knez Mihailova - they are a testament to the city's eclectic charm. Their modern, sleek design is similar to what you might find in cities like Vienna, Zurich, or Copenhagen. 

Both Republic square and Kalemegdan fortress were at a walking distance from the hotel I stayed. Republic Square in Belgrade is a vibrant mosaic, reflecting the city's imperial history and Balkan spirit. The National Museum's neoclassical façade commands attention, symbolizing the city's European cultural ambitions - it's indeed a majestic structure. 

Nearby, the Kalemegdan Fortress is a monument to Belgrade's turbulent past, its walls etched with the marks of numerous battles. Below, the confluence of the Sava and Danube rivers silently narrates the rise and fall of great empires, from the Romans to the Ottomans and the Austrians.

In the next and concluding part, we'll see the details of three countries of Adriatic-Balkan region: Albania, Montenegro and North Macedonia.