When I was a little girl, my mom went to Sarajevo. This was long before the war, at the time of Yugoslavia. I remember listening to her with sparkles in my eyes as she was telling me how beautiful the city was, and I told myself: one day, I will go there.
I went there during the month of December, and I found a city immersed in the winter mist, by night as well as by day. It was cold, but peaceful, beautiful. I walked in the streets with my hands wrapped up in my pockets, wandered in the bazaars of the old town, tasted baklava, drank strong coffee and felt the pain of the nation having lost so many lives.
Sarajevo, you met expectations. You are charming.