IT’S A SULTRY SARAJEVO SUNDAY – all strudels, street food, sidewalk cafes and flirty flower boxes. Geraniums and graffiti wallpaper the city peppered with a mismatch of communist-style apartments and ancient buildings.
I am ambling along the main strip of Ferhadija, and in this one-kilometre stretch I weave between courtyards, churches, mosques and marketplaces.
Outside, the central City Market is more elaborate theatre than bustling food hall but its function has remained unchanged since it was built in 1895. Inside, it tastes of smoked meat and unpronounceable products that tango on the tongue: braveca (sheep); jareca (goat); zarebrica (cow); and slani kajamak, korzi sir and cheese.
