Sarajevo

Just down the hill from the pension where we are staying is The Latin footbridge from where an assassin shot dead Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sopia in 1914, an event which popular history pinpoints as the spark for the First World War. Looking up from most parts of Sarajevo you see green hills and mountains where just 15 years ago Bosnian Serbs snipers shot at passersby and shelled their homes. The siege lasted for three years and claimed thousands of lives.
Even though my passport was stamped on Fridaz with an exit visa from Serbia and an entrance visa into Bosnia a few minutes later after crossing a bridge, the Serbian flag could still be seen flying from houses and official buildings while many signs were written using the Cyrillic alphabet, the Roman equivalent often spraypainted out. Most of the stunningly beautiful mountainous countryside we passed through on our way to Sarajevo lies in Republika Srpska, dominated by ethnic Serbs who are reluctant citizens of Bosnia and Herzegovina, although their political representatives now participate in the government.
Yesterday we walked past the Holiday Inn Hotel where the western media was based, in the rooms facing away from the hills, on a street known as sniper alley.
The words melting pot are overused when describing places, both in terms of history and culture, but its is hard to avoid when talking about Bosnia. At various times of day the sound of muezzuins calling prayers are broadcast from mosques scattered throughout the city while many women wear hijabs. We are close to the Turkish quarter where thick, tarry coffee and mint tea are served in cafes decked out with ornate carpets, yet a walk along the street will bring you into an area of classical central European architecture with an Orthodox and Catholic church and a synagogue.
It is a fascinating and beautiful city although the weather has broken and temperatures have plunged from the mid-30s to about 14 or 15 with persistent rain.

Belgrade

After the laid-back studenty vibe of Novi Sad, Belgrade came as a bit of a shock to the system. It is a bustling metropolis where people seem to work and go about their daily business rather than sit around in cafes all day.
We went on a bus tour this morning but unlike other cities there is only one each morning at 11am, rather than buses leaving every half hour or fifteen minutes and it seemed the clearest indication yet that Belgrade is not really the sort of place tourists come to.
As well as the usual castle, cathedrals, churches, museums and parks we passed a couple of crumbling buildings, their blackened interiors hanging out from craters in their sides which the recorded commentary told us were the remains of former military buildings bombed by Nato just 10 years ago.
Belgrade does have its charms. Last night we ate in a cobbled street called Sadrarska, the city's former bohemian quarter were we were serendaded by a Balkan ensemble, of violin, clarinet, accordian, guitar and double bass. The music was combination of Gypsy dances, whimsical Jewish laments and Parisian cafe music. When the musicians came to our table and asked us where we were from they went in to a quick confab and I squirmed at the thought of a Balkanised version of Danny Boy or something worse, however what we got was Love Me Tender.
We spent this afternoon wandering along the pedestrianised Knez Mihailova and sitting it the park which covers the citadel on the banks where the rivers Danube and Sava merge.
I've been struck by how tall everyone is - men and women. I'm used to looking over the heads of most people around me as I walk about the place but here my heights seems to be fairly average with quite a few topping me by several inches.
We're off tomorrow to Sarajevo - an eight hour bus journey. So that should be fun.

Novi Sad - Serbia

The train journey from Budapest to Novi Sad took more than seven hours and included an hour-long stop at the border. The countryside was flat agricultural land, stretching into the distance with few hedgerows and only an occasional clump of trees. Novi Sad has been a real suprise, juxtaposing, communist-era architecture with modern structures and a quint historic, pedestrianised centre.
Our hotel is in a grim, noisy street that is just around the corner from the quaint bit. It is a student city and so there is young vibrant feel to Novi Sad with hundreds of bars and restaurants spilling on to the streets.
We walked over a bridge spanning the Danube - which replced the one bombed by Nato ten years ago - to a citadel complex set on a hill. Great fun climbing there in 30 degrees but with great views over the city.
Food isn't as stodgy as Budapest.