It was wonderful not to have to get up for another long day in the saddle. I therefore stayed in bed a little longer than usual. I had gotten myself a single room so vegging out was quite comfortable.

Looking out over Sarajevo from the Yellow Bastion...

I walked up to the Yellow Bastion, an old fortress that gave fantastic views across the city. I walked through the Kovaci Martyrs Cemetery, a muslim burial ground used in the 1992-95 war. The size of it was awful, but even worse, the names and ages. I was 20 years old when this happened. Unlike the atrocities certain Germans carried out, blame cannot easily be placed neatly at any one groups feet.

The Kovaci Martyrs Cemetery... one of far too many.

Perhaps truth and reconciliation may come over time, but personally, I think there is trouble ahead. I get the feeling people just want to forget, but cling still to sterotypical hatreds. You hear it in peoples conversations. All I know is there is a lot of innocence blood in those graves. It must not be allowed to happen again.

The Latin Bridge, where Franz Ferdinand, Archduke of the Austro Hungarian Empire was shot, sparking the First World War.

Rant over, I took my Bosnic coffee in Pidgeon Square and did a bit of Bazzar hunting for some gifts. I love the stray dogs here.They treat the city centre like it is their living room. Lying down in the middle of the street, always a happy look on their faces. If I was going to be a stray dog, It would be a Sarajevo stray. They certainly didn't look thin. I bet they at the slower fatter pidgeons!

Strays sleep(canine) whilst other strays take coffee...

Very fat stray dog eyes up his next meal...

In the afternoon I walked through the city centre to the museum that cronicles events of 92-95. Some of the images were pretty shocking, I don,t think they will ever leave me.

Homemade guns used to defend the city...

There are lots of beggars here. On the street pleading for money in a low mumble. Now don't get me wrong I take my social responsibilties very seriously, but these are the most imaculately dressed, positively plump beggars I have ever seen. They qualify the occasional smack head you see begging outside the shopping centre at Hanley, as in need for a UN airdrop.

You can see how predujeces grow out here, but to be sure, they were all, infinately, better dressed than me. I know that is not hard!

The infamous Holiday Inn in Sarajevo. Home to embattled journalists of the 92-95 war

The final thing I want to say about this city, despite the ramblings of my over precious mind, is that everyone here treats you like a king. You are made to feel most welcome, everyone wants to talk and have fun. The people are wondeful, more than anything, that is what I will remember about Sarajevo.

A group of 5 Swiss overlanders turned up at the hostel on their bikes. They had cheated and had taken a train most of the way!

So off to bed early after getting my ducks in a line ready for tommorrow. Betty has been idle for long enough!