Two Seasons in Rudo, Bosnia and Herzegovina 🇧🇦 A story of missed flights, mountain villages, accidental swims, and unforgettable people

There are places that become memorable because of famous landmarks.

And then there are places like Rudo places remembered because of the people, the chaos, the stories, and the feeling they leave behind.

My first trip to Rudo in 2019 was for the interracial wedding of my Kenyan friend and her Bosnian husband. She used to live in Dubai, and when she invited me to Bosnia, I honestly had no idea the trip would become one of the most unforgettable adventures of my life.

One of the first things I learned in Rudo was that visitors must be officially registered by the host or inviting family member. So off I went with my host to the local police station. In the most random artist moment possible, I somehow ended up drawing the policeman while we were there. Only me would turn immigration registration into an art session.

The people in Rudo were incredibly warm and welcoming. I met aunties from the village who invited me into their homes, offered coffee, food, stories, and genuine hospitality. In return, I made little sketches and artworks for them.

Even without speaking the same language fluently, kindness somehow translated perfectly.

Summer in Bosnia felt magical.

The mountain drives alone were unforgettable, especially the roads cutting through tunnels carved into giant rocky cliffs. Every tunnel felt like entering another hidden world dark for a few seconds, then suddenly opening to rivers, forests, and endless green landscapes.

And then came my accidental river disaster.

We stopped by a lake and river area for a relaxing day outdoors. I had absolutely no plans of swimming, but after slipping near the riverbank, I ended up getting swept slightly by the current and suddenly found myself swimming instead. Everyone was laughing while I was trying to survive my unexpected adventure. To make things even more dramatic, I ended up catching flu afterward.

Honestly, it was tragic and hilarious at the same time. 😭😆

The parties in Rudo were another experience entirely. Bosnians and Serbs too really know how to celebrate. The music, drinking, singing, and endless toasts lasted for hours. I experienced the local way of partying and attending weddings, where celebrations felt emotional, loud, joyful, and deeply connected to family and community.

At one point, a local musician even serenaded me, which made me feel like I accidentally entered a Balkan movie scene.

I also visited a museum in Rudo dedicated to war history, filled with guns, ammunition, and tributes to fallen heroes. Walking through it felt emotional and heavy a reminder that beneath Bosnia’s peaceful mountains are stories of conflict, resilience, and survival.

But perhaps the funniest part of the entire trip was not the river.

It was my flights.

The day after the wedding was supposed to be my flight home.

I overslept and completely missed it.

So I rebooked for the next day… only to arrive late AGAIN and miss my second flight too. 😭

By the third missed flight, I was exhausted, embarrassed, and honestly questioning my life choices. While sitting there upset, one local man noticed me and invited me to join a family gathering in the mountains instead.

At first, I was nervous because the drive took almost an hour deep into isolated mountain areas. The roads became quieter and more remote, and I kept wondering where exactly we were going.

But the moment we arrived, everything changed.

Inside the home, I met FOUR generations of the same family gathered together under one roof. Grandparents, parents, children, relatives all laughing, eating, talking, and welcoming me like I belonged there. They had slaughtered a sheep for a feast, and the table was overflowing with homemade food, drinks, stories, and warmth.

It became one of the most beautiful and unexpected moments of my travels.

No tourist attraction could ever compete with that experience.

It reminded me that sometimes the best travel memories happen when everything goes wrong first.

And finally… on the fourth attempt — yes, FOURTH — I successfully made my flight. 😂

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Years later, in January 2026, I unexpectedly returned to Rudo after an exhausting journey from Milan. I simply wanted somewhere quiet to breathe.

But this time, Rudo looked completely different.

The green summer landscapes I remembered were now covered in heavy snow. The little boys I met back in 2019 were suddenly tall young men much taller than me now which made me realize how quickly time passes.

2019 / 2026 photos

I stayed two nights in the town’s only hotel before continuing to Sarajevo. During that visit, I also witnessed Orthodox Christmas celebrations in the village. Locals gathered outside around a giant fire while snow covered the surroundings. Hot red wine was served while everyone laughed, celebrated, and stayed warm together in the freezing winter air.

No luxury.

No fancy attractions.

Just real people, traditions, mountains, snow, music, and unforgettable memories.

Rudo taught me that sometimes the most meaningful places are not the famous ones.

Sometimes they are the places where you accidentally fall into rivers, miss three flights, get adopted by mountain families, and somehow leave with memories that stay with you forever.