I've heard a lot of horror stories about the trains in Bosnia. Majority of the reviews talked about smoking in the cabins. I found that weird, but hey, if you're crossing unfamiliar terrain, then you should always be open minded.
I rushed off from the hostel in Ljubljana and almost missed my ride to Sarajevo. Good thing the train station was just close by and I was so familiar with the side streets which would get me there in a shorter amount of time. When I got there, I got confused. No train. But yes indeed, there was a bus. That's when I realized that they changed the itinerary. The first part of the trip was via bus because of some issues with the rail tracks.
I was glad I worked it out immediately before the bus headed off without me. There were a bunch of dudes from Denmark, all rested at the back rows. Then 2 girls from Spain were just a row behind me. I listened to the people complaining about the bus alternative. I thought what was there to complain about if you've got aircon as compared to the trains they had. Ahhh, I thought to myself, "How easy it is to complain rather than just appreciate what you have at that very moment". I didn't bother listening anymore, so I put on my earphones and stared out the window as we started the journey.
After an hour or so, we stopped in the middle of nowhere that seemed to be "somewhere". A bunch of border control officers stared at us while we collected our bags and lined up to the trains. It took them a while with me, gave me the impression it was their first time to see a New Zealand passport.
I found myself a cabin, joined a couple from Bosnia. The husband was already smoking, which was proof of the reviews I've read earlier. Now picture this, the whole train ride with them was a mix of the wife talking Bosnian to me while giving me that lovely smile, then me making hand gestures so as to figure out what she's talking about and husband in the background puffing his smokes, smirking and trying to work out if he knows the English translation. In the middle of this would be a little bit of finger pointing if there was anything in the background that might be connected to what she was talking about. Despite the language barrier, I was soaking it all in, I found myself smiling coz I liked that sort of immersion. It was a direct train ride to Sarajevo and I didnt have food. For some reason I was able to communicate to them and ask if they had any idea if there were food stops along the way. That's when the lady understood i didn't have any food with me. The next few events was what made my heart melt. She collected all of the food she could get out of her bag and gave it to me. Ahhh, it was crazy. I could feel her motherly care and concern. And then through hand gestures she explained to me that she had 2 sons and she asked if I had children or if I was married. As the conductor passed by, they quickly asked him about food stops and just confirmed to me it was a direct service. I said, it's okay, i can last for the next 5 hours anyway. I've learned to eat twice a day on this trip, and it didn't bother me at all as long as my hyper acidity doesn't cramp up. I then realized after they tried to explain to me, that they've just asked the conductor to get me some food from one of the locals who'd be jumping on the train. Sigh. They were just so sweet! Before they got off the train, the lady hugged me and left me some sweets to take with me. Then with hand signals, told me to wait for the food guy. Earlier by the way, they gave me a few Bosnian words to get by. :)
After 45 minutes, a guy showed up beside the conductor, and gave me the wrapped food. I learned that it was one of the delicacies of Bosnia, called Cevapi. It's their style of preparing burger. Definitely yummy and I was glad it didn't have the typical amount of onions in it. :) God bless that couple!
I assumed that there were no more people to join me in the cabin so I opted to lie down on the stretch of the couch and snoozed for a bit. After some time, the cabin door opened and I found a mother with a boy and a girl walk in, sit on the couch across mine and stared at me. I read the stares as "Okay, this primitive girl is hoarding too much space". I can't blame them.
I ended up having a conversation with the family and found out that she was sewing for a living. The father, who was Muslim, was in Croatia. The kids were so sweet and well mannered. They shared everything they ate and if I said no, the mother would say "Why not?" They also gave me some Bosnian words which the kids would write on my small notebook. They also tried to learn a few English words from me.
The whole train ride was something I told myself I'd remember by because of the genuine kindness and hospitality of the Bosnian families I've met. In those fleeting moments, I was so happy... Simple as it may sound, I'd say having local exposure makes such experiences worth remembering.
The family walked me out the train station and made sure I knew my way around. I hugged them goodbye and kissed the kids. God Bless them too.
I just arrived in Sarajevo, Bosnia and I knew it was going to be Amazing!
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