How much more can you write about the Balkans? Well, in fact a lot.
You can say, for example, that you finally managed to find a Sarajevo Rose and, whilst you were standing there thinking “Somebody died here” a group of teenage girls trod over it, happily chirping in Bosniak.
Or you might describe finding yourself in the Baščaršija, surrounded by locals catching the last rays of a warm afternoon.
You can also reflect on the bravery of a city which, 2 years after a sectarian war, erects a monument proclaiming “The multicultural man will build the world”. Who knows what the girls sitting on the bench make of that.
One day it’s sunny in Sarajevo, the next it’s foggy and chilly in Zagreb. You marvel at the Mitteleuropean feeling of the place, just a handful of kilometers from the minarets and winding Ottoman streets of Bosnia.
You can also wonder at how a blanket of low-lying clouds can give a secretive, almost impalpable, flair to the most typical street scenes: a girl running in a park, a cyclist, a few travelers waiting at the central station.
See? There’s plenty to talk about. Unfortunately my time in the Balkans has come to an end, at least for this time around. But I will be back soon.