The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round....Most of the Time

I've only been in Bosnia for a little over two months, but I have already had my fair share of bus adventures. These are my stories.

The second weekend we were here, Megan and I bravely got up early after a night of celebrating our friend Ina's birthday to take a day trip to Mostar. Everybody had told me how beautiful the city itself was, but I didn't realize how much I would enjoy the bus ride. I couldn't even attempt to sleep because the Balkans were so beautiful and I couldn't keep my eyes off of them. For our first bus experience in a country with a language we didn't understand at all, it was quite a success. We didn't have too many problems finding the bus station or buying tickets, and the bus was nicer than we were expecting. We were even able to find people who spoke English to help us along the way, though we were both a little worried that something was lost in translation and we would be stuck in Mostar for the night. It was also a little unnerving that every announcement was made in Bosnian, so we didn't really know what was happening most of the time. We decided to stay on the bus during the pausas. After all, it would be better if the bus didn't leave without us.

The bus line here is called CentroTrans or EuroLine, and they have coach buses complete with a tiny bathroom and curtains to block out unwanted sun. The tickets that you get here seem to be even sketchier than MegaBus reservations though. There, at least you know they have confirmation of your purchase. Here, all they have is a perforated sheet of paper that will easily fall apart if you fiddle with it too much.

If there's one thing I've learned in Bosnia, it is to be much more laid back with my travel plans. Matt and I wound up going to Munich for Oktoberfest on a day's notice. Unfortunately, our rehearsal schedule for October didn't come out before the 30^th, so we weren't allowed to officially book our tickets until then even though we were pretty sure we had a 10-day vacation. So we looked at the bus schedule online and then went to the bus station first thing the morning we wanted to leave. It worked out. I found an English-speaking ticket seller again and confused him by asking to schedule a return bus trip. Apparently, they don't do that here. We just had to trust that we would be able to get back to Bosnia on our given day of choice.

The trip to Munich was 16 hours there and 17 hours back. It was just like riding a Megabus except that for every time you would cross a state line in the US, you had to deal with border control. Our passports were checked twice per country line: once to leave the country we were in and once to enter the new country. In a car, it's relatively simple and quick, but since there are so many people on a bus, we had to go outside for every check and wait in the cold. We were awake at 11pm for the Bosnia-Croatia border and then again from 2-3am for the Croatia-Slovenia border. It was a little painful. Everyone on the bus was complaining particularly about entering Slovenia though. There was almost nobody there at 2am, yet we had to wait 45 minutes at each side of the border before we could get through. Slovenia is the most recent country to join the EU, so I guess they make it hard for certain people to get into the country. Matt and I didn't have any problems though. I feel like it was a bigger deal for us to get into Croatia than Slovenia, while it was the opposite way for everyone else on the bus with Bosnian passports. At least Slovenia was our last passport check, and we could sleep soundly during our crossings into Austria and Germany.

Unfortunately, Matt had bad luck with sitting behind people who invaded his bubble. On the way there, a rather large woman leaned her seat back as far as it would go and writhed around frequently to get comfortable. That meant that she was basically laying in Matt's lap the whole time, poor guy. After entering the Croatian border, the guy who was sitting next to her started talking to us. There was a little bit of a scene with our passports at one point because the border control officers tried to keep our white cards that prove we are legal residents in Bosnia, so he was curious about us. He offered to translate for us for the rest of the trip and tried to get the lady to put her seat up a bit. On the way back, Matt once again sat behind the seat that was reclined all the way. An older man was sitting in it, but he spent the bus ride sitting forward in his seat looking out the front windshield. Matt was pissed at the time, but now we realize that maybe it wasn't his fault. The seat could have been broken.

Matt and I definitely noticed a difference between the people traveling to Germany and the people going back to Sarajevo. On the way there, it seemed like most of the other passengers were Germans. They were well-behaved and quiet most of the time, and I was able to understand some things by asking them in German what was going on. The only things that disturbed me were the border stops and the Bosnian sitcom that was playing until midnight. However, on the return trip, we were riding with a rowdy bunch of Bosnians. We met this guy who apparently held the world record for catching the largest bass. He was quite outspoken and said some fairly offensive things about Germans. I think he was the ring leader of the party in the back of the bus. They picked up some alcohol in Slovenia and drank it the entire night while singing Bosnian folk songs at the top of their lungs. I was amazed at their ability to make noise for that long though. When they weren't singing, they were talking drunkenly to each other about something. How do you come up with that much to talk about? It was a 16-hour bus ride!

Thankfully, I have not been on a public bus since those trips, but we have traveled quite a bit with the Philharmonic. We played a couple of concerts in Zenica, which is about an hour and a half away from Sarajevo. The Orchestra hired buses from the same company I used for my previous trips. I guess there's not much to be said about these bus trips to Zenica except that I think they will be a monthly occurrence.

Our bus ride to Italy was a bit more eventful. Again, we hired a bus from the CentroTrans company and made the 12-15 hour trek to Pordenone, Italy. I was a little wary of riding in a bus for that long only a week after getting back from Germany, but it wasn't bad. Yes, we had to get off the bus for most of the passport controls, but I wasn't dog tired during all of those stops. I particularly enjoyed seeing what the border crossings looked like during the day though. There were designated lanes for buses, trucks, cars, and even bicycles! Apparently, people who live near the border bike across it all of the time. I can see why; the bike lane was moving much faster than any other lane.

I also enjoyed looking out the window every once in a while to take in the scenery. The landscape from Sarajevo to the western border of Slovenia wasn't nearly as good as traveling south to Mostar, but when we were crossing into Italy, it took my breath away. Maybe there was a romantic version of Italy in my head, but we saw the sun setting behind this mountain that was right next to the road. I didn't even try to get a picture of it, but the image is forever burned into my mind. I was so enthralled with the scenery that I twisted in my seat to take in every possible second of it.

Since the bus was full of Bosnians, we made a lot of stops for smoking and coffee. They never really said how long the breaks would be though, so we just went with the flow. Luckily Adi, the second flute/piccolo player of the orchestra, was in charge of keeping us on task and made sure we didn't leave anybody behind. On the way back, we made fewer stops so we made pretty good time. I could tell the Bosnians were getting antsy though because as we pulled up to a cafe about 3 hours from Sarajevo, they all chanted “Čorba, Čorba, Čorba!” Apparently the soup was really good at this cafe. Matt ordered it, and it smelled delicious. I'll have to get it sometime while I'm here.

I already mentioned in a previous post about the fact that our bus caught on fire a couple of hours away from Sarajevo. That was fun. I can't say that this only happens in Bosnia though. I've definitely been stranded on the side of a highway waiting for hours for a replacement bus in the US several times. Yay, bus travel...