Goodbyes, Egg and Chips, and Three Unexpected Kittens

A sad trip to Zenica, some comfort food from home, three tiny arrivals and a decision between hiking and making jam.

It has been one of those weeks that has contained rather a lot of life.

Some sadness, some sunshine, a plate of egg and chips, three unexpected arrivals on the drive, and plans involving mountains and enormous pots of jam.

So, quite a normal week in Bosnia really.

Saying goodbye to Milenko

In last week’s Sunday Edition, I mentioned the sad news that Milenko, one of the members of our hiking club, had passed away.

We subsequently heard that his funeral would be held on Monday, in the Orthodox cemetery on the outskirts of Zenica, and Tamara and I drove down to join other members of the club and pay our respects.

I think Milenko’s partner was genuinely surprised that we had travelled all the way from here to be there.

But it felt important.

I don’t do funerals particularly well. I never have. And funerals here in the Balkans are different from those I grew up with in Britain. There is more formality, they tend to take longer and, as someone who isn’t religious in any way, there are parts that inevitably don’t have the same meaning for me.

But it was a beautiful sunny day, which somehow made everything just a little easier.

And there were a lot of people there.

I’ve always thought that one measure of a life is the people who turn up when that life comes to an end.

People made the effort to come for Milenko.

I didn’t know him particularly well outside the hiking club, but I will remember him. The club will certainly be poorer without him.

And, in its own small way, so will the world.

Autumn is beginning to arrive

Back here in the village, things have become noticeably cooler.

We haven’t had a huge amount of rain yet, and as I write this there is brilliant sunshine coming through the windows of the studio.

But the garden is slowly recovering.

The upper part is green again. The lower part still looks somewhere between a lawn and a small desert.

There may even be time to get the lawnmower out for another couple of cuts before autumn properly takes over.

Otherwise, it has been a relatively quiet week.

Which, actually, I think I needed.

The great British egg and chips experiment

One of the highlights was lunch at a little local restaurant.

It is the sort of place we might once have called a greasy spoon in Britain, and I don’t mean that in a derogatory way at all. It is simple, unpretentious and the food is first class.

When our friends Rob and Ali were visiting recently, we took them there.

Many years ago, on another visit, Rob had asked whether he could have egg and chips.

You won’t normally find fried egg and chips on a menu in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

But the waiter disappeared into the kitchen and, some time later, returned with exactly that.

So when we took Rob back recently, we had what you might loosely describe as a Bosnian fried breakfast, together with a portion of chips, or French fries for those of you reading in North America.

Close enough.

Yesterday, however, I decided to go for the real thing.

“Could I just have three fried eggs and chips?”

The lady looked slightly astonished.

But three fried eggs and chips duly arrived.

And they were lovely.

Culture wars?

Absolutely not.

I’m just an old Brit who occasionally likes egg and chips.

I also like Marmite on toast. And if someone manages to smuggle a jar of mint sauce or mint jelly into Bosnia, I will happily have that with lamb.

People here have looked at me in horror over that one.

Although somebody did eventually try lamb with mint sauce and admitted that it was actually rather nice.

There’s probably a podcast episode in this somewhere.

Three little visitors

The quieter week has also given me a chance to come down from what has been a surprisingly intense few weeks.

We had Sam visiting, followed almost immediately by my week in Sarajevo teaching, then an event with the hiking club, and finally the news about Milenko.

I don’t think I realised quite how tiring it had all been until things finally became quiet.

Perhaps that’s partly age.

But there’s a lot of living left to do yet.

And then, a couple of days ago, I heard Tamara shout.

I went rushing outside to find three tiny kittens on the property.

One of them had apparently been running down the road.

And here we go again.

Somebody, it seems, has abandoned more animals.

I’ve written about this before. It frustrates and saddens me enormously.

And I should stress that there are many people here who care deeply about animals. People spend their own time and money looking after strays, running shelters and arranging for dogs and cats to be neutered.

But animals still get dumped.

And now we have three kittens.

We simply cannot keep them.

We already have three dogs, all strays, and seven cats.

Yes.

Seven.

The dogs have plenty of space here and the cats have what sometimes seems like half of northern Bosnia to patrol, but there has to be a limit.

Tamara has already found a home for one of the kittens, and we think we have a solution for the other two where they will be properly looked after.

The trouble with kittens (and puppies), is that they are so incredibly vulnerable.

You look at them and instinctively think “somebody has to look after you”.

Perhaps we’d be a slightly better species if that instinct always extended to other human beings too.

Right.

That’s quite enough philosophy for one Sunday Edition.

Next weekend: walking or jam?

Next weekend we’re heading back towards Zenica for something that I think is called a pekmezijada.

And this sounds wonderful.

Another hiking club is organising the event. There will be a walk, which I may or may not join, but the main attraction for me is what happens afterwards.

People will be making pekmez from scratch.

Outside.

Big pots. Big burners. Lots of fruit. And, as I understand it, something of a competition to see who makes the best.

I believe apples are going to be the fruit of choice.

Which leaves me with a dilemma.

Do I go on the walk?

Or do I take my recorder, stay with the jam makers and make a podcast about the whole thing?

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There’s a lady I’ve met before who speaks excellent English and who I hope will be there. If she is, perhaps she can talk us through what they’re doing, why they’re doing it, and some of the traditions surrounding making pekmez here in the Western Balkans.

Would you listen to that?

Let me know.

And then… Vlašić

The following weekend could be slightly more adventurous.

Weather permitting, Senad, Tamara and I are planning to meet early on Saturday morning at a mountain hut on Vlašić, where we’ll stay overnight.

The plan is to walk up towards the summit and back.

At around 2,000 metres in October, however, the weather gets the final vote.

Tamara quite reasonably doesn’t fancy walking through snow, and neither do I want to take unnecessary risks if conditions turn nasty.

So we’ll see.

If it happens, I’ll take you along with me.

I’ll probably take the drone too, although knowing Vlašić the wind may have other ideas about that.

Before I go…

The Sunday Edition arrives every Sunday at 8am Central European Time.

The podcast continues every Tuesday, although I no longer send a separate email announcing each episode.

And if you missed it, I also put out a special episode last Wednesday for International Podcast Day, talking about podcasting and why, after all these years behind microphones, I still love audio.

Thank you, as always, for reading, commenting and reacting to these little dispatches from our corner of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

It means a great deal to me.

And to Tamara too.

Until next Sunday.

Vidimo se.