My Favourite Place, Bosnia
...a sence of relief as i land to my favourite place, Bosnia. Ecstatic, finally to be
away from all the stress from everday college life, i step out onto the gritty pavement
below from the plane, ice scattered across the horizion as i clear my eyes from the tears
of the ever so cold breeze of wind thrashing at them i notice off in to the distance
a large mountain peak extending for what seems like an eternity upwards, with clouds hugging
the mountain and as i focus into it i see the ever great slopes which the 1956 olympics was held,
here in Bosnia. I grasp my bag full of my clothes and snowing equipment and i make my way to a
Sarajevo Taxi, the capitals taxi service, old rugged car which sure looked like to be pre historic
age, that brings back memorys of when i was once a teenage boy exploring the beautiful country, its
flashing bright lights, traditional stores and clothing with culture going through the roof, My favourite
place was not always like this, from when i was a litte boy i would venture out through my apartment window
and peer of into a war torn country, buildings which had bullet holes shot at from the snipers positioned
in the thick mountains covering them selves from being seen. Buildings which have been half torn apart
due to bombshells detonating and resulting the building to crumble to the ground, but as i glance over the
lively hood of the city, with its bright lights and people swarming the streets with live activity i tend to
forget that this country was attacked. As the taxi continues up to the hills that i am anticipating ever second
to arrive at, the mountains where i can be free and relive my stress from everything in life i have in the busy world
back home, where i can escape and have some one on one time with myself and the slopes. Strapping on my snowboard as
i glance above looking at the monterous thing of a slope infront of me, thinking all the memories i have had here with
friends and family when i used to live here, all the emotions coming back to me. The ride which seems to last forever
on the chair lift that asends to the mountain tops pearing over to the beautiful city of sarajevo, with large mountains
surrounding its self in a sence being walled off from everyone else in the world. The bristling the trees makes as snow
rains down furiously against them, the ever thickening fog abstructing my vision ever so often where i need to wipe my
snow goggles to maintain vision infront of me. The jump off the chair lift and onto the hard ice sheet, making me slip
and loose my balance and land hard against the brick like surface, bringing back memories of all the trail and errors i
had went through to learn how to ride the snow board down the beautiful eye blinding white snow of the bosnian mountains.
Pearing down the mountain i adjust myself on the top of the slope and a sence of familiar sensations kick in, adrenline
rushing through my body and i take the jump and start to descend down the mountain, thoughts escaping my head from my
current existance and all thats going through my head is the slope and sounds of nature that the mountaing lets out. Free,
the only feeling i have going through my body, thinking i am capable of doing anything when i am riding down this slopes,
a sence of invincbility that no one can take away from me at the time when i am in the zone. Snow flakes constantly
blinding my sight as i asend down with ever growing speed, snow flying up meteres away painting the trees everytime i
slide to another side, coming to the end of the mountain and i get back on the slope and take another look up and realise the amaazing emotional trip
that bosnia puts me through everytime i come to visit, my escape, my favourite place.