Milo and Gigi, the mascot/celebrity of Guesthouse Halvat. When in Sarajevo, stay here! If you do, give a look around for the earrings Inky bought in Mostar, because while I think her mother inadvertently threw them away with the paper napkin on which they were resting, maybe she slipped 'em in the bookcase or something. Alternatively, if you're traveling to Mostar, allow me to send you ten bucks for replacement / postage / tip.
This was a daily evil, one Milo found increasingly difficult to tear himself away from. Four Konvertible Marks for ten minutes. Or less than two dollars to get some serious ya yas out.
On the other side of the hedge from the inflatable monstrosity, Sarajevo's elders indulged in some serious full body chess, with vigorous catcalling from the spectators.
More dandelions to attend to in an old Muslim cemetary near our digs.
Greg and I were very interested in and moved by a museum of the siege of Sarajevo, but Milo and Inky found some of the images too heavy, and opted to sit in a corner rereading their tattered Archie comics. Next door was the National Museum, a musty relic I really enjoyed because it reminded me of the museums of my youth. Inky deemed it boring beyond words and Greg quickly got his fill too, but Milo got a bang out of some less-than-brilliantly-taxidermied wild boar, a Mammoth tusk, and these teeny tiny, long dead bugs.
Greg bought a coffee set from a coppersmith / musician / television soundman / all around great guy named Dino. Here's the exterior of his shop. We spent a couple of hours drinking Bosnian coffee and chatting. The kids were so patient and well behaved that they were awarded mini-apprenticeships, getting to try out some of Dino's tools. Inky's going to fill you in on that, so I will leave it with a reflection of Milo going nuts with an electric engraving pen. Look out.
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