An Englishman in the Balkans

This is A Letter from Bosnia, a short audio note from daily life here in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Just a small moment, a sound, or a reflection from where I am today.

A short audio letter from Bosnia.

This morning begins in the kitchen, with coffee, the đžezva, and the small familiar sounds that ease the day into life.

That was today’s short letter from Bosnia.

Thanks for listening. Until the next one, vidimo se.

An Englishman in the Balkans is a weekly podcast about the people, places and everyday life of Bosnia and Herzegovina, told by David Bailey, who has lived here for more than 25 years. New episodes arrive every Tuesday.

Join me as I share my heartfelt journey of how a simple invitation led to lifelong friendships, a sense of belonging, and a deeper understanding of Bosnian hospitality and community spirit through hiking. This episode offers a fresh perspective on life, culture, and the power of small moments that change everything.

Key topics:

• The backdrop and personal introduction to Bosnia and the Balkans
• The significance of genuine invitations and Bosnian hospitality
• How a casual gathering beside the river Bosnia became a meaningful community experience
• The role of hiking as a pathway to connection and belonging
• The story of becoming the first foreign member of a local hiking club
• The importance of acceptance and community beyond nationality
• Traditional Bosnian Sevda music and cultural exchange during a barbecue
• Lessons on openness, new opportunities, and the unexpected doors life opens

Timestamps:

00:00 - Introduction to the episode and setting in Bosnia’s scenic landscape

00:28 - Personal background and purpose of the podcast

01:24 - Exploring Bosnian culture, festivals, and hidden gems

02:16 - The small decision that changed everything: attending a hiking event

03:14 - Meeting Senad and the genuine Bosnian invitation to join the hiking club

04:11 - The memorable riverside gathering and Bosnian hospitality

05:10 - The warmth and friendliness that made us feel instantly at home

06:07 - The simplicity of the hiking community and deeper sense of belonging

07:05 - Becoming the first foreign member and what that symbolises about Bosnia

08:27 - Community, friendship, and the importance of knowing your neighbours

09:24 - The power of small openings and how life can change unexpectedly

09:52 - The cultural moment: singing Sevda songs at the river barbecue

10:22 - The significance of shared music, tradition, and regional pride

10:51 - Closing thoughts: embracing invitations and discovering life’s new doors

Resources & Links:

• Sevda Music - Traditional Bosnian Songs
• Bosnia and Herzegovina Tourism

Thanks for listening. If this episode was worth your time, the best thing you can do is pass it on to someone who'd enjoy it.

Every episode, and more about my life here, is at anenglishmaninthebalkans.com.

I also write a short, free weekly newsletter, The Sunday Edition, a recap of my week in Bosnia. If you're not already receiving it, you can join here:

https://anenglishmaninthebalkanspodcast.substack.com

Already a subscriber?

If you don’t want to receive everything I publish, you don’t have to unsubscribe completely.

Use the unsubscribe or preferences link at the bottom of any email and you can choose which of my newsletters and sections you’d like to receive.

That way, you can keep the Sunday Edition, for example, while switching off emails from sections you’re less interested in.

I’d much rather you received only the things you enjoy than felt I was filling up your inbox.

Welcome to another soundscape from An Englishman in the Balkans.

These recordings are exactly as they were captured, with no narration, no music, and no attempt to remove the natural sounds of everyday life.

They are simply authentic moments from Bosnia and Herzegovina, recorded as I experience them.

Whether you’re relaxing, working, reading, or simply curious about life in this beautiful corner of the Balkans,

I hope these recordings give you a genuine sense of place and a chance to slow down for a while.

A soundscape from Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Thank you for spending a little time with me in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

If you enjoy these soundscapes, you’ll also find interviews, personal stories, and reflections on life in the Western Balkans in the main episodes of An Englishman in the Balkans.

If you’d like to help support the podcast and make more recordings like these possible, please consider following the show, leaving a review, or becoming a supporter through the links in the show notes.

Until next time, thank you for listening.

Part of the An Englishman in the Balkans Soundscape Collection, authentic recordings from everyday life in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

An Englishman in the Balkans is a weekly podcast about the people, places and everyday life of Bosnia and Herzegovina, told by David Bailey, who has lived here for more than 25 years. New episodes arrive every Tuesday.

In this reflective episode, I explore a feeling that has stayed with me for a long time: why I often feel safer here in Bosnia and Herzegovina than I do in London.

This is not a simple comparison between one place being good and the other bad. London is one of the great cities of the world, full of energy, culture, opportunity, and life. Bosnia is not perfect either. It has its frustrations, its difficult politics, its bureaucracy, and its real everyday struggles.

But safety is not only about crime statistics, systems, cameras, or official structures.

Sometimes safety is about how a place makes your body feel.

It is about whether your shoulders drop. Whether you can walk slowly. Whether people notice you. Whether the road home feels familiar. Whether a cup of coffee is more than just a drink.

In Bosnia, especially in smaller communities, I often feel less invisible. People notice who you are, where you live, when you walk, and whether something seems out of place. That can sometimes feel a little suffocating, but it can also create an informal safety net — a quiet, human form of protection.

In this episode, I talk about ageing, belonging, village life, London, emotional safety, and the difference between being watched and being truly noticed.

For me, Bosnia offers something I value more and more at this stage of life: connection.

Not perfection, not certainty, but a sense of being held by place, rhythm, and community.

Maybe safety is not always about living somewhere with the most polished systems or the biggest economy.

Maybe safety is also about living somewhere where your life has edges you can recognise.

Thanks for listening. If this episode was worth your time, the best thing you can do is pass it on to someone who'd enjoy it.

Every episode, and more about my life here, is at anenglishmaninthebalkans.com.

I also write a short, free weekly newsletter, The Sunday Edition, a recap of my week in Bosnia. If you're not already receiving it, you can join here:

https://anenglishmaninthebalkanspodcast.substack.com

Already a subscriber?

If you don’t want to receive everything I publish, you don’t have to unsubscribe completely.

Use the unsubscribe or preferences link at the bottom of any email and you can choose which of my newsletters and sections you’d like to receive.

That way, you can keep the Sunday Edition, for example, while switching off emails from sections you’re less interested in.

I’d much rather you received only the things you enjoy than felt I was filling up your inbox.

An Englishman in the Balkans is a weekly podcast about the people, places and everyday life of Bosnia and Herzegovina, told by David Bailey, who has lived here for more than 25 years. New episodes arrive every Tuesday.

In this episode of An Englishman in the Balkans, I explore one of Bosnia and Herzegovina’s most overlooked architectural details — the wooden minarets found on some of the country’s smaller mosques.

These are not the grand stone minarets many people associate with Islamic architecture. They are quieter, more local, and deeply connected to Bosnia’s forests, village life, craftsmanship, and memory.

From the Banja Luka area to small settlements across the country, wooden minarets tell a story of faith shaped by place — modest, beautiful, and easy to miss unless you know where to look.

A small detail, perhaps.

But in Bosnia, small details often open the door to much bigger stories.

Thanks for listening. If this episode was worth your time, the best thing you can do is pass it on to someone who'd enjoy it.

Every episode, and more about my life here, is at anenglishmaninthebalkans.com.

I also write a short, free weekly newsletter, The Sunday Edition, a recap of my week in Bosnia. If you're not already receiving it, you can join here:

https://anenglishmaninthebalkanspodcast.substack.com

Already a subscriber?

If you don’t want to receive everything I publish, you don’t have to unsubscribe completely.

Use the unsubscribe or preferences link at the bottom of any email and you can choose which of my newsletters and sections you’d like to receive.

That way, you can keep the Sunday Edition, for example, while switching off emails from sections you’re less interested in.

I’d much rather you received only the things you enjoy than felt I was filling up your inbox.

Welcome to another soundscape from An Englishman in the Balkans.

These recordings are exactly as they were captured, with no narration, no music, and no attempt to remove the natural sounds of everyday life.

They are simply authentic moments from Bosnia and Herzegovina, recorded as I experience them.

Whether you’re relaxing, working, reading, or simply curious about life in this beautiful corner of the Balkans,

I hope these recordings give you a genuine sense of place and a chance to slow down for a while.

The recording begins at around 04:30, in that quiet blue hour before the day has properly arrived. The world is still half asleep. The air is cool, the light is just beginning to change, and the first birds are already announcing the morning.

Over the next two hours, from 04:30 to 06:30, you’ll hear the gradual waking of the landscape around Tarćin: layers of birdsong, distant movement, soft rural sounds, and the quiet atmosphere of a Bosnian mountain morning. There is no narration, no music, and no rush. Just the natural rhythm of place.

Tarćin sits in the hills southwest of Sarajevo, surrounded by forests, mountain air, and small communities tucked into the landscape. At this time of day, before traffic and human activity fully take over, the soundscape has a rare stillness to it. It is the kind of recording that invites you to slow down, listen properly, and notice how a place wakes up.

This episode is ideal for slow listening, background focus, relaxation, sleep, meditation, writing, or simply spending a little time with the sounds of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Put on headphones if you can, settle in, and join me on a balcony in Tarćin as the morning begins.

Thank you for spending a little time with me in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

If you enjoy these soundscapes, you’ll also find interviews, personal stories, and reflections on life in the Western Balkans in the main episodes of An Englishman in the Balkans.

If you’d like to help support the podcast and make more recordings like these possible, please consider following the show, leaving a review, or becoming a supporter through the links in the show notes.

Until next time, thank you for listening.

Part of the An Englishman in the Balkans Soundscape Collection, authentic recordings from everyday life in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Welcome to another soundscape from An Englishman in the Balkans.

These recordings are exactly as they were captured, with no narration, no music, and no attempt to remove the natural sounds of everyday life.

They are simply authentic moments from Bosnia and Herzegovina, recorded as I experience them.

Whether you’re relaxing, working, reading, or simply curious about life in this beautiful corner of the Balkans,

I hope these recordings give you a genuine sense of place and a chance to slow down for a while.

As spring arrives, the migrating birds have returned to the area for summer, and the dawn chorus has become stronger each morning. I had originally planned to record at 4:00 a.m., but eventually found myself outside at 5:30 a.m. on April 1st, still early enough to capture the quiet magic of the village waking up.

Using my Zoom H6 field recorder, I recorded not only birdsong, but a wider living soundscape. You will hear birds calling from different directions, dogs joining in, cars passing, and the bus arriving to collect children for the first shift at the local primary school in Laktaši.

This is not a guided episode in the usual sense. There is no interview and no long narration. Instead, it is an invitation to slow down and listen.

For the best experience, listen with headphones. The recording is in stereo, and headphones will help you feel the space of the village morning around you.

There is something meditative about soundscapes like this.

You do not need to do anything. Just press play, settle in, and let the morning sounds of rural Bosnia wash over you.

Thank you for spending a little time with me in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

If you enjoy these soundscapes, you’ll also find interviews, personal stories, and reflections on life in the Western Balkans in the main episodes of An Englishman in the Balkans.

If you’d like to help support the podcast and make more recordings like these possible, please consider following the show, leaving a review, or becoming a supporter through the links in the show notes.

Until next time, thank you for listening.

Part of the An Englishman in the Balkans Soundscape Collection, authentic recordings from everyday life in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

An Englishman in the Balkans is a weekly podcast about the people, places and everyday life of Bosnia and Herzegovina, told by David Bailey, who has lived here for more than 25 years. New episodes arrive every Tuesday.

A warm Monday evening stroll through Banja Luka turns into a reflection on matura, Bosnia’s public, elegant, family-centred graduation tradition.

From glamorous dresses and proud parents to professional photographers and nervous young men in sharp suits, this episode explores youth, memory, and the Western Balkans’ beautiful sense of occasion.

Thanks for listening. If this episode was worth your time, the best thing you can do is pass it on to someone who'd enjoy it.

Every episode, and more about my life here, is at anenglishmaninthebalkans.com.

I also write a short, free weekly newsletter, The Sunday Edition, a recap of my week in Bosnia. If you're not already receiving it, you can join here:

https://anenglishmaninthebalkanspodcast.substack.com

Already a subscriber?

If you don’t want to receive everything I publish, you don’t have to unsubscribe completely.

Use the unsubscribe or preferences link at the bottom of any email and you can choose which of my newsletters and sections you’d like to receive.

That way, you can keep the Sunday Edition, for example, while switching off emails from sections you’re less interested in.

I’d much rather you received only the things you enjoy than felt I was filling up your inbox.

An Englishman in the Balkans is a weekly podcast about the people, places and everyday life of Bosnia and Herzegovina, told by David Bailey, who has lived here for more than 25 years. New episodes arrive every Tuesday.

Bosnia and Herzegovina is a beautiful, welcoming, deeply misunderstood country.

It is a place of villages, rivers, mountains, cafés, festivals, family gatherings, hiking trails, and everyday life. But it is also a country where the recent past still leaves traces, sometimes visible, sometimes hidden, and sometimes buried in the ground.

In this episode of An Englishman in the Balkans, I’m recording from the garden here in the village, with the ordinary sounds of rural Bosnia beneath my voice. Birds, dogs, maybe even the distant sound of a tractor. Peaceful sounds. Normal sounds.

And that is important, because this is not an episode designed to frighten anyone away from visiting Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Quite the opposite.

This is a personal, honest, and practical conversation about landmines in Bosnia in 2026 — what visitors, hikers, photographers, cyclists, drone users, and slow travellers should understand before heading off the beaten track.

I share a personal story from more than twenty years ago, when Tamara and I made a careless decision while walking near a former frontline area. It was a moment that reminded both of us how easily curiosity can lead you somewhere you should not be.

Bosnia is not unsafe in the way some people imagine. Daily life here is ordinary, peaceful, and full of warmth. People live, farm, walk, travel, go to school, attend festivals, support local sports teams, and welcome visitors every day.

But landmines and explosive remnants of war remain part of the country’s reality.

The risk is not everywhere. It is not on every road, field, village lane, or mountain path. But former frontlines, abandoned land, remote woodland, overgrown areas, and unmarked tracks still require caution and respect.

This episode is about balance.

Not fear.

Respect.

Respect for local knowledge. Respect for warning signs. Respect for marked trails. Respect for the landscape. And respect for the long, slow work still being done to make Bosnia and Herzegovina safer, field by field, path by path, village by village.

If you are planning to visit Bosnia, hike here, film here, cycle here, or explore rural areas, please listen carefully, use official resources, ask locally, and never treat the countryside casually.

Bosnia is beautiful.

But like many beautiful places, it asks us to pay attention.

Useful resources mentioned in this episode:

BH MAC - Bosnia and Herzegovina Mine Action Centre. EUFOR Mine Information Coordination Cell Mine Action Review. Bosnia and Herzegovina Official mine awareness and suspected hazardous area resources

Thanks for listening. If this episode was worth your time, the best thing you can do is pass it on to someone who'd enjoy it.

Every episode, and more about my life here, is at anenglishmaninthebalkans.com.

I also write a short, free weekly newsletter, The Sunday Edition, a recap of my week in Bosnia. If you're not already receiving it, you can join here:

https://anenglishmaninthebalkanspodcast.substack.com

Already a subscriber?

If you don’t want to receive everything I publish, you don’t have to unsubscribe completely.

Use the unsubscribe or preferences link at the bottom of any email and you can choose which of my newsletters and sections you’d like to receive.

That way, you can keep the Sunday Edition, for example, while switching off emails from sections you’re less interested in.

I’d much rather you received only the things you enjoy than felt I was filling up your inbox.

An Englishman in the Balkans is a weekly podcast about the people, places and everyday life of Bosnia and Herzegovina, told by David Bailey, who has lived here for more than 25 years. New episodes arrive every Tuesday.

How a damaged border crossing at Gradiška became a symbol of political delay, economic frustration, and everyday life made harder than it needs to be in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

The damaged bridge at Gradiška is one of those stories that seems to explain far more than the event itself.

On the surface, it is about the old bridge over the Sava River between Bosnia and Herzegovina and Croatia. It is about stopped traffic, diverted lorries, long queues, and drivers losing hours at alternative crossings.

But beneath that, it is about something bigger: politics, frustration, and the gap between what Bosnia and Herzegovina could do, and what its political system too often allows it to do.

For those of us in the Banja Luka region, Gradiška is not just another border crossing. It is one of the main routes north into Croatia, the European Union, and the wider European road network. Families, hauliers, exporters, tourists, workers, and the Bosnian diaspora all depend on it.

So when Gradiška stops working properly, it becomes more than a local inconvenience. It becomes an economic and human problem.

On 19 May 2026, traffic was suspended at the Gradiška–Stara Gradiška crossing after part of the protective fence on the bridge over the Sava collapsed, creating a serious safety risk. Thankfully, no injuries were reported.

But the disruption was immediate. Traffic was diverted, queues grew, and reports described trucks waiting up to 16 hours at alternative crossings.

That means lost money, lost working time, delayed goods, missed appointments, and frustrated families.

And this is where the story becomes especially frustrating.

There is already a new Gradiška bridge and border crossing infrastructure. After the old bridge problem forced action, traffic was temporarily redirected there, valid until 19 August 2026.

Which leaves the obvious question.

If traffic could be moved there in an emergency, why did it take an emergency?

Bosnia and Herzegovina is full of capable people who understand why a crossing like Gradiška matters. The problem is rarely a lack of intelligence. It is a political culture where practical solutions become trapped in arguments over institutions, authority, revenue, responsibility, and blame.

A bridge is supposed to connect people.

But at Gradiška, it has also shown the cost of delay, division, and political point scoring.

And once again, the bill is not paid by those making the speeches.

It is paid by the driver in the queue, the business waiting for goods, the family delayed at the border, and a country losing time it cannot afford to waste.

Thanks for listening. If this episode was worth your time, the best thing you can do is pass it on to someone who'd enjoy it.

Every episode, and more about my life here, is at anenglishmaninthebalkans.com.

I also write a short, free weekly newsletter, The Sunday Edition, a recap of my week in Bosnia. If you're not already receiving it, you can join here:

https://anenglishmaninthebalkanspodcast.substack.com

Already a subscriber?

If you don’t want to receive everything I publish, you don’t have to unsubscribe completely.

Use the unsubscribe or preferences link at the bottom of any email and you can choose which of my newsletters and sections you’d like to receive.

That way, you can keep the Sunday Edition, for example, while switching off emails from sections you’re less interested in.

I’d much rather you received only the things you enjoy than felt I was filling up your inbox.