I’m still disappointed by last night’s train experience. The train itself was fine, but the staff were remonstrating with an Indian family whose children had dropped Pringles on the floor. Felt like saying ‘guys, your train is over an hour late, to a platform with no signs or meaningful timetable, fuck the crisps’. Alas, I don’t say it. My language skills don’t stretch so far. It was clear racism.
The hostel is a bit dirty and wild. The whole ‘we’re a family’ shtick is a bit cultish. Like all cults, they seem to dismiss criticism. Reading reviews online, I can see that others found the quirks too quirky. I don’t mind, I can tolerate it, but it’s another sign that I am ready to go home. So, I have one day left. Sarajevo, what have you got for me?
Later – 6.57pm
I spent the cooler part of the day charging around the city and taking photos. It is a beautiful place, with the hills and the valleys. The beautiful buildings have lots of history too, where different religions mix and wars take place. I visited the Srebrenica museum called Gallery 11/07/95. It was a really powerful set of images and a horrific story.
I spent the rest of the time trying to find a souvenir for Bee. Tricky as lots of stuff is tat, or could be bought anywhere. Then there are lots of bullet things, made of ammunition. Really strange. I message her and joke about it. In the end I choose a dressing gown that I think she will enjoy.
I didn’t watch the third place playoff between England and France last night. It was a 6-4 goal fest. Tonight is the final. Can’t decide if I care enough to see Spain play Argentina.
