Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

Come with me into the heart of Mostar’s old bazaar, where footsteps, passing conversations and the gentle bustle of everyday life mingle along the narrow stone streets.

This short soundscape captures a few unhurried minutes inside one of Bosnia and Herzegovina’s most atmospheric places.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

Hidden at the end of a quiet track through the farmland and forests of northern Bosnia and Herzegovina is a place that has become a lifeline for nearly 200 dogs.

In this episode of An Englishman in the Balkans, I visit Suny Shelter, a dog sanctuary run by Balkan Dogs, a Finnish volunteer organisation founded in 2015. The shelter provides safety, veterinary care, space and, eventually, the possibility of a permanent home for dogs rescued from the streets, abandoned by their owners or removed from difficult conditions in municipal shelters.

I sit down with Mei Sawanoi, who moved permanently from Finland to Bosnia and Herzegovina in 2019. Together with her husband, Dražen, she now lives at the shelter and cares for the dogs every day.

Mei shares the story of how adopting one rescue dog led her towards the Balkans, why she eventually made Bosnia her home, and what daily life is really like when almost 200 dogs depend upon you.

I also speak with Elina, a Finnish volunteer whose own adopted dog first introduced her to Balkan Dogs. She describes the emotional experience of meeting animals she had previously seen arriving at the shelter injured, frightened and severely neglected—only to find them healthy, trusting and ready to begin new lives.

We also hear about the extraordinary journeys Mei and Dražen make every two months, driving rescued dogs for around 30 hours from Bosnia through Europe to Finland, where carefully selected adoptive families are waiting for them.

This is not simply a story about a dog shelter. It is a story about compassion, responsibility, sacrifice and the difference a small group of determined people can make.

In this episode:

The story behind Suny Shelter and Balkan Dogs

Why Mei left Finland and moved permanently to Bosnia

The reality facing abandoned and stray dogs in Bosnia and Herzegovina

How the shelter cares for almost 200 dogs

The importance of vaccination, quarantine and sterilisation

Why Finnish volunteers travel to Bosnia to help

How rescued dogs are transported and re-homed in Finland

The emotional rewards, and pressures, of running a rescue shelter

If this episode moves you, please consider sharing it with someone who cares about animals, rescue work or the lesser-known stories of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

Living here has taught me that sometimes the most respectful thing an outsider can do is listen rather than judge.

I’ve lived in Bosnia and Herzegovina for many years, and one question comes up more often than almost any other: why don’t I talk more about politics?

The truth is, I follow what happens here and I see how political decisions affect everyday life. But I also believe that, as someone not born here, my role is to listen more than I speak. Bosnia and Herzegovina is a deeply complex country, shaped by history, memory, identity and experiences that do not fit neatly into simple explanations.

In this episode, I reflect on why I avoid political commentary, why outsiders can so easily misread this country, and why I would rather encourage visitors to come for the people, the culture, the landscapes and the stories. Sometimes the most respectful thing we can do is ask questions, remain curious and accept that not everything has a simple answer.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

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.

Sometimes the simplest moments tell the biggest stories.

This is twenty minutes from my office window in our village in northern Bosnia and Herzegovina: a gentle breeze, the occasional passing car and tractor, birdsong, and the quiet rhythm of everyday life.

No commentary.

Just a peaceful moment to slow down and listen.

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.

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

In this episode of An Englishman in the Balkans, I sit down in Banja Luka with photographer, writer, and fellow Substacker Jennie Blythe.

Jennie has travelled widely across the former Yugoslavia, but this was her first visit to Banja Luka.

Over pita cooked under the sač, with heavy rain falling outside, we talked about first impressions, Bosnian hospitality, photography, history, memory, and the way this country quietly draws people in.

Our conversation takes us from the Partisan monument on Banj Brdo to the everyday rituals of local food, from street photography and respect to the slow, thoughtful world of Substack.

What I loved most about this conversation was seeing a place I know well through someone else’s eyes. Jennie notices the details many of us walk past: a monument, a posture, a street corner, a quiet expression, or the feeling of a city after rain.

This is an episode about Bosnia and Herzegovina, but also about looking more carefully, travelling more slowly, and understanding that every place carries stories if we take the time to listen.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

In this episode I want to take you with me to one of Bosnia and Herzegovina’s most remarkable places. Lukomir.

Perched nearly 1,500 meters up on Bjelašnica Mountain, it’s the country’s highest permanently inhabited village. Seventeen families still call it home.

The winters bury their stone houses in snow, sometimes for months, while the summers transform the fields into wide open pastures.

On paper, it sounds like a postcard.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

One of the things I love most about living in Bosnia and Herzegovina is that the simplest moments often become the best stories.

This episode began over coffee and a tray of freshly made baklava. Tamara had just made her very first baklava, inspired by our friends in Zenica and especially Senad’s mother, whose version has become something of a legend among those lucky enough to have tasted it.

What followed wasn’t planned. I simply switched on the recorder as we chatted around the kitchen table.

We talk about what makes Bosnian baklava so distinctive, from choosing the right jufka and making clarified butter to the importance of agda, the sweet syrup that should always be cold when it’s poured over hot baklava.

Tamara also shares the little lessons she learned from her first attempt, the mistakes she’d happily admit to, and why her next challenge is to make a baklava good enough for Senad’s mother to judge.

It’s an easy-going conversation about food, friendship and the traditions that are quietly passed from one generation to the next. Because here in Bosnia and Herzegovina, recipes are rarely just recipes—they’re part of family history, hospitality and the stories that bring people together.

00:00 Welcome to the Podcast

01:47 Baklava Sparks a Story

02:54 Why Make Baklava

03:58 Agda Syrup Secrets

05:02 Walnut and Pastry Hacks

06:16 Layering and Butter Method

09:05 Baking and Waiting Tips

10:40 Variations and Next Attempt

12:41 Kitchen Table Culture Wrap

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

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.

01 July 2026.

Last night across northern Bosnia, the weather finally broke.

After days of heavy heat, the kind that seems to sit on the house, the garden, the dogs and your own shoulders, the thunderstorms arrived. I had hoped to capture them as a timelapse, but like so many creative plans, it didn’t quite come out as expected.

What I did manage to record, though, was something much more intimate: This 17-minute soundscape of rain, thunder, and the atmosphere changing over our little corner of rural Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Across the country, the heat had been building.

Weather reports had warned of high temperatures, unstable air, sudden storms, heavy showers, strong gusts of wind and even hail in some places. It was that familiar summer pattern here: days of fierce heat, then the sky begins to shift, the pressure changes, the air turns restless, and suddenly the storm arrives.

At home, our three dogs reacted in their own ways. Two of them were completely unbothered, as if thunder was just another background noise of village life. But the tiniest one, Fibi, does get worried when the storms come.

So while the rain fell and the thunder rolled, I cuddled up with her and kept her close.

And she was good as gold.

This soundscape is not dramatic in the polished sense. It is simply a real moment from a real night in Bosnia: the rain on and around the house, the rumble of thunder, the feeling of the heat finally lifting, and a small frightened dog finding comfort beside me.

To be honest, we enjoyed both the rain and the rapid drop in temperature.

Sometimes a recording does not capture what you planned.

Sometimes it captures something better.

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.

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

What does Yorkshire pudding have in common with the food traditions of Bosnia and the wider Balkans?

More than you might think.

In this episode, I look beyond the Sunday roast and explore the humble origins of Yorkshire pudding as a dish born from economy, practicality, and the need to make precious ingredients go further. Long before it became a symbol of English tradition, Yorkshire pudding was a clever way to fill stomachs, catch meat drippings, and stretch a meal.

Living in Bosnia and Herzegovina, that logic feels deeply familiar. From uštipci and palačinke to proja and other simple, filling dishes across the Balkans, there is a shared understanding of food that comforts, sustains, and reassures.

This is not a story about identical recipes. It is about parallel instincts: flour, fat, heat, and the quiet wisdom of ordinary kitchens.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

Bosnia heatwave, extreme heat in Bosnia, rural Bosnia, Laktaši, Mostar fire, Blidinje fire, and climate change in the Balkans shape this episode of An Englishman in the Balkans.

Across Bosnia and Herzegovina, temperatures are pushing towards 40°C, orange weather warnings have been issued, and daily life is being reshaped by heat, fire risk, water worries, and pressure on local services.

In this reflective episode, I look at how the current heatwave is affecting communities across the country, from the landfill fire near Mostar and forest fires in Blidinje, to the quieter but very real pressures felt in rural areas like Laktaši.

This is not just a story about weather. It is about village life, public services, Bosnia’s complicated administrative structure, rural vulnerability, neighbourly care, and the practical realities of living through extreme heat in a country where local connection still matters.

It is also a reminder that extreme weather shows us where the cracks are, but also what still holds.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

In this episode, I take you on an unexpected journey to Zenica, a city long overshadowed by its industrial past, where, alongside Tamara and our guests, we uncover rich stories, unforgettable flavours, and a surprising sense of beauty hidden in plain sight.

Not Just a City on the Way to Somewhere Else.

For years, Zenica was little more than a name on a road sign to me. A blur on the highway between here and there. A city with a reputation steeped in industry, smoke, and steel. But as Tamara and I recently discovered, alongside our visiting friends, Chris and Jake, Zenica is far more than its past. What started as a spontaneous day trip turned into a surprisingly rich experience that challenged my assumptions and opened my eyes.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

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.

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

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

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

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.

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

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.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

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.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

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.

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.

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

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.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

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Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

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

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

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.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

There are some places in Bosnia and Herzegovina that do not reveal themselves straight away.

During a recent two-and-a-half-day road trip through Bosnia and Herzegovina with Tamara and my granddaughter Alice, we stopped near Konjic for what I thought would be a quick visit and a few photographs.

Instead, within minutes, we were stepping through a doorway into one of the most secretive places ever built in the former Yugoslavia.

Hidden beneath a mountain near Konjic lies Tito’s Bunker, officially known as ARK D-0. Built during the Cold War for Josip Broz Tito and Yugoslavia’s military and political leadership, it was designed as an underground atomic war command shelter.

Above ground, life carried on as normal. The Neretva River flowed through Konjic, people drank coffee in cafés, and traffic moved along the road between Sarajevo and Mostar.

Beneath the surface, though, was another world entirely.

Construction began in 1953 and continued until 1979. Built in complete secrecy, the bunker was designed to shelter around 350 people for months in the event of nuclear war.

From the outside, there is very little drama. That is part of what makes it so fascinating. The entrance appears almost ordinary, tucked into the landscape with no great military spectacle.

Then you walk through the doors.

Long corridors stretch ahead. Heavy doors separate room after room. Pipes run overhead. Offices, communications rooms, dormitories, generators, filtration systems, kitchens, and medical spaces sit deep inside the mountain.

It feels less like a bunker and more like a secret underground city.

What struck me most was that this was not simply a military installation. It was a mindset poured into concrete. A reminder of just how seriously the Cold War was taken in this part of the world.

One of the things I often say about Bosnia and Herzegovina is that history here rarely sits politely behind glass. It presses in from all sides.

Tito’s Bunker feels exactly like that.

The small details stay with you: the telephones, the furniture, the faded colours on the walls, the offices frozen in time. You stop seeing history as something abstract and suddenly it becomes touchable and strangely human.

Tito himself remains a complicated figure across the former Yugoslavia. To some, he represented stability and independence during a tense period of global politics. To others, he represented control and silence under a one-party state.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE:

Expect gentle reflections, real places, local voices, field recordings, and stories that go beyond the usual headlines.

I had planned to make a simple hiking story from the hills above Kakanj in central Bosnia. A scenic walk with our hiking club, a few thoughtful voice notes, some views towards Vlašić, and the sounds of boots, birdsong, and conversation along the way.

Bosnia had other ideas.

This episode is about a 13.5 kilometre hike that quickly became something much more personal: a lesson in preparation, aging, stubbornness, and humility. From a too-heavy rucksack and the wrong trousers to unforgiving hills, aching knees, and schoolchildren who seemed to float up the climbs, it reminded me that walking every day is not quite the same as hiking in Bosnia.

It is also a story about community, kindness, and the strange satisfaction of reaching the end when, somewhere along the route, you quietly wondered whether you would.

Before I go, I'd love to hear from you.

If this episode brought back a memory, made you curious about Bosnia and Herzegovina, or simply gave you something to think about, why not send me a WhatsApp voice note?

You might have a question, a story of your own, or just want to say hello.

With your permission, I may even feature your message in a future episode.

LEAVE A VOICE NOTE ON WHATSAPP

You'll also find ways to support the podcast, become a member, and follow the journey over at:

Website:

Substack:

YouTube:

Support the Podcast:

Interested in starting your own podcast later in life?

My self-paced course, Start With Your Voice, is designed for late creators who want a calm and simple way to begin:

FIND OUT MORE: