Why I Still Believe in Podcasting

 

Today is International Podcast Day.

Today, 30 September, is International Podcast Day.

It seemed a good excuse to switch on the microphone and think aloud about why, after more than half a century around broadcasting in one form or another, I still find audio so compelling.

I recorded the accompanying episode first thing in the morning. The doors were open, the sun was coming in, and I decided that if the dogs barked or Tamara called me to do something around the house, I’d simply leave it in.

Somehow, that felt appropriate.

I Still Think of It as Radio

I’m not entirely sure I think of myself as a podcaster.

I still think of myself as somebody who makes radio.

There may no longer be a transmitter, studio complex or radio station involved, but the basic ingredients haven’t changed very much.

There is a microphone.

There is somebody talking.

And somewhere, perhaps hundreds or thousands of kilometres away, another person is listening.

That simple connection has fascinated me since childhood.

I remember lying in bed with a transistor radio underneath my pillow, listening quietly when I really ought to have been asleep.

There was no picture.

There didn’t need to be.

Your imagination supplied everything else.

Audio Doesn’t Have to Shout

Over the years, I became interested in all the newer forms of media too.

Video. YouTube. Social media. Views. Subscribers. Algorithms. Thumbnails.

They can be useful, of course, but I gradually realised how easy it is to start making things for the number rather than for the person.

Audio feels different.

It doesn’t have to shout at you.

You can listen while you are driving, walking the dog, washing dishes, sitting in the garden or simply enjoying a quiet cup of tea.

Podcasting can be slower.

At this stage of my life, I rather like slower.

Telling Small Stories From Bosnia

Much of this podcast now revolves around the ordinary things I encounter while living in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

A walk through my village.

A conversation in a café.

A journey into the mountains.

A little piece of history.

A market.

Rain falling outside.

Birds in the morning.

None of those things sounds particularly dramatic.

But life isn’t particularly dramatic most of the time.

It is made up of small moments, and I think audio is particularly good at preserving them.

You hear the voice, the pauses, the background sounds and sometimes the mistakes.

There is something very human about that.

Every Download Is a Person

One of the most useful things I’ve learned is not to become too obsessed with audience size.

Numbers can be seductive.

Ten thousand sounds better than one thousand. One thousand sounds better than one hundred.

But every download represents an actual person.

Perhaps someone sitting in England with a cup of tea.

Someone driving through Canada.

Someone walking in Germany.

Someone who once lived in Bosnia.

Or somebody who has never been here but is simply curious about this part of the world.

For ten, twenty or thirty minutes, that person has chosen to spend some time listening to me.

I don’t take that lightly.

One Person Speaking, Another Listening

Podcasting is often described as a new medium.

In reality, I think it is based on something extremely old.

One person tells a story.

Another person listens.

The technology changes, but the principle doesn’t.

And perhaps that is why I still enjoy switching on the microphone.

I have no particular desire to build a media empire or spend my days chasing algorithms.

I simply want to continue making things I find interesting and hope that some of you find them interesting too.

So on International Podcast Day 2026, thank you for listening.

And let me finish by asking you the same question I ask in the episode:

What podcast means something to you?

Not necessarily the biggest or most famous.

Just the one you genuinely look forward to hearing.

Because ultimately, I don’t think podcasting is about technology.

It is about people.

One person speaking.

Another person listening.

And somewhere between the two, a connection.

David Bailey

Hello, I’m David, a British-born storyteller, podcaster, and video creator living in rural northern Bosnia and Herzegovina.

For more than two decades, Bosnia has been home. From village walks and quiet mornings to local traditions, unexpected encounters, field recordings, podcasts, and reflective videos, I share stories from a life lived a little off the usual path.

My work is not about glossy travel content or chasing the latest trend. It is about slowing down, noticing the details, and telling honest stories from this part of the Balkans, especially from the perspective of someone in the later chapter of life, still curious, still learning, and still trying to make sense of the world.

David

An Englishman in the Balkans / Retired Life in Bosnia

https://anenglishmaninthebalkans.com
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