The previous post ended with the sub-optimal news that we had been deposited at East Sarajevo Bus Station, rather farther from the city centre than we had expected. My mobile plan had included data roaming in Montenegro but not Bosnia and Herzegovina, leaving us without an easy way to work out how to fix the situation. It was too far to walk, particularly in the considerable heat, so we needed a plan.
Our plan involved walking until we found somewhere with shops and, ideally, Wi-Fi. Fortunately, we soon encountered the universal sanctuary of the stranded traveller, a shopping centre. It had Wi-Fi, a supermarket and somewhere to change money, so all our immediate requirements were met.
Jonathan changed some money, I acquired snacks and, using the shopping centre’s Wi-Fi, I plotted a route into the city centre. I was pleased to discover what appeared to be a direct journey on the 103 trolleybus.
We waited for the 103 trolleybus, but it never appeared. Several 108s passed instead and we were just about to abandon the plan and return to the shopping centre in search of another one when a driver noticed our confusion. He asked whether we needed help, which we very much did, and kindly told us to get aboard. He would make sure that we reached the tram line into the centre and we were very grateful for his assistance.
Jonathan managed to look remarkably casual while neither of us had much idea what was happening. The driver was also helping another passenger and eventually dropped us at the main tram line into central Sarajevo. His kindness made an otherwise confusing journey considerably easier.
At the tram stop, we discovered that tickets needed to be purchased with cash from the driver. The process felt slow and clunky, particularly after Belgrade had made its entire public transport network free. The tram was also extremely crowded, apparently because of a football match that evening, and we encountered some impressively determined use of elbows from our fellow passengers that was absolutely not ideal. By the time we escaped, hot, slightly battered and grumpy (well, I was grumpy, Jonathan wasn’t), my first impressions of Sarajevo’s public transport were not especially charitable. Admittedly, arriving at the wrong bus station without mobile data and then attempting the journey during a football crowd may not have constituted the fairest possible assessment, butI was confident that I would calm down eventually, probably within a few days.
Whatever I thought of the transport system, the driver who noticed our confusion and went out of his way to help us had been exceptionally kind. And given that Jonathan was still cheery, I did debate that Sarajevo’s principal public transport difficulty may have been one particular British passenger.