I'm home!
Well, it kind of feels like that. I'm absolutely enthralled with Sarajevo, even more so than I was the last time I was here. The spring certainly helps, but much more than that, the idea that in the last three days alone, I've gotten a more nuanced understanding of the place--I can get around on public transit if I really have to, I know where some important landmarks, and of course, I know where to find good ćevapi. Maybe it's living without a host-family or program to hold my hand, or maybe I'm just getting better at working with foreign cities. However you spin it, Sarajevo fits like a glove.
As far as the new apartment goes, I'm turning to my old fallback of bulleted lists, because who needs literate structuring when dots will do the trick?
On the plus side, the apartment
-...is huge, with multiple bedrooms, a spacious living room (with a comfortable couch), an absurdly well-stocked kitchen, and a shower with a shower curtain and nozzle mount. For those of you who don't understand the significance of that, imagine trying to shower with half a hand. Or, you know, without a mount for the shower-head. Whichever one makes more sense to you.
-...has a beautiful view of the river, flowing around the bend near the national theater and giving the (somewhat wrong) impression that it runs all the way into the distant mountains. Also easily seen is the gorgeous collection of buildings along the banks on either side.
-...has a fantastic landlord. Nihad, you rock.
-...is decorated with care, making it feel less like a month-long rental and more like somewhere to which I can come home and relax after a day of researching all kinds of unpleasantness. Of particular pleasantness is the impressionist art lining the walls, the well-maintained (or possibly plastic) plants scattered tactfully about, and of course, the (presumably mock) flintlock pistol on the wall.
-...is wonderfully located, being about 300m from the (relative) center of the old city. I can see the place where World War I started from my balcony. How cool is that?
-...totally has a balcony. Need I say more?
On the other hand, it
-...is lit up like a Dutch brothel by the 12,000 terawatt spotlight shining on the synagogue next door throughout the night. Although eventually we were able to jury-rig a blanket/curtain over the most salient points, it's still a bit unpleasant.
-...is a bit loud, considering the tram going by throughout the night just across the river. Although this ingrains the nighttime tram schedule into my brain, so that's kind of cool.
-...is clearly haunted, judging by the goofy noises, flickering lights, self-closing doors, and this little fucker:
The kitchen, in which I make eggs, sausage, pasta, store a fridge full of spinach and bananas, and burn just about anything else. Although I'd like to think I'm getting better. I leave preparation of anything past 11:59 am to more skilled hands than mine.
The living room, and entirely sleep-able couch. This is where the highest amount of swank in my swank-pad is concentrated, and you can clearly see why here:
I had a picture of Dave's room (ft. Dave), but I'd imagine he'd object, so in place I present this:
And finally, THIS. SHOWER. WITH A BRACKET.
So yes, this place is awesome. Be jealous. Or come visit.
Observations:
Well, it kind of feels like that. I'm absolutely enthralled with Sarajevo, even more so than I was the last time I was here. The spring certainly helps, but much more than that, the idea that in the last three days alone, I've gotten a more nuanced understanding of the place--I can get around on public transit if I really have to, I know where some important landmarks, and of course, I know where to find good ćevapi. Maybe it's living without a host-family or program to hold my hand, or maybe I'm just getting better at working with foreign cities. However you spin it, Sarajevo fits like a glove.
As far as the new apartment goes, I'm turning to my old fallback of bulleted lists, because who needs literate structuring when dots will do the trick?
On the plus side, the apartment
-...is huge, with multiple bedrooms, a spacious living room (with a comfortable couch), an absurdly well-stocked kitchen, and a shower with a shower curtain and nozzle mount. For those of you who don't understand the significance of that, imagine trying to shower with half a hand. Or, you know, without a mount for the shower-head. Whichever one makes more sense to you.
-...has a beautiful view of the river, flowing around the bend near the national theater and giving the (somewhat wrong) impression that it runs all the way into the distant mountains. Also easily seen is the gorgeous collection of buildings along the banks on either side.
-...has a fantastic landlord. Nihad, you rock.
-...is decorated with care, making it feel less like a month-long rental and more like somewhere to which I can come home and relax after a day of researching all kinds of unpleasantness. Of particular pleasantness is the impressionist art lining the walls, the well-maintained (or possibly plastic) plants scattered tactfully about, and of course, the (presumably mock) flintlock pistol on the wall.
-...is wonderfully located, being about 300m from the (relative) center of the old city. I can see the place where World War I started from my balcony. How cool is that?
-...totally has a balcony. Need I say more?
On the other hand, it
-...is lit up like a Dutch brothel by the 12,000 terawatt spotlight shining on the synagogue next door throughout the night. Although eventually we were able to jury-rig a blanket/curtain over the most salient points, it's still a bit unpleasant.
-...is a bit loud, considering the tram going by throughout the night just across the river. Although this ingrains the nighttime tram schedule into my brain, so that's kind of cool.
-...is clearly haunted, judging by the goofy noises, flickering lights, self-closing doors, and this little fucker:
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| Pictured: The face waiting for you in the deepest circle of Hell. |
So, with that image freshly branded into your retinas like a flashbang, I present to you the tour of my digs.
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| Pictured: Nom central. |
 |
| Pictured: Bond. Apartment Bond. |
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| Pictured: It's like the riviera, but half as pricey and a quarter as pretentious. |
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| Pictured: Same principle, different details. |
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| Pictured: WOOOOOOOO! |
Observations:
- Sarajevo is just friendlier than Beograd. Hey, it happens.
- It really is prettier, too. Even though it's much more war-torn, and in parts dilapidated, and there's definitely a definitively hood part to it (which Beograd interestingly, notably lacks), between its natural beauty, its majestic layout, and the general innovation of architecture and urban planning, it comes together just right.
- http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/the-marathon/ <---this.
- I OD'd on sunlight yesterday. Don't get me wrong, I've come a very long way from the days of second-degree burns because of bare shoulders. But after half a year of pretty much perpetual grey, a long walk in a t-shirt through sunny Sarajevo followed by a few hours of reading facing the sun on the porch, I think the vitamin D influx hit me like a truck. I spent a lot of last night with a splitting headache, and most of today in a chaotic mood (read--like a coked-up chimpanzee). Hope it levels out, but it still beats the grey.
- Sarajevo public transit sounds like a spaceship. It also moves with the alacrity and grace of a dead yak. Mostly this is because the main tram line runs alongside (in the middle of, really) the largest road in the city, and therefore has to stop every fifty meters to let some asshole in a Yugo pull a u-turn.
- Yes, there are Yugos here.
- But there are also an ENORMOUS number of sport bikes here, which really just makes my day.
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