Aerial Tram to the Most Infamous Bobsled Run in the World

The bobsled run looked differently during the 1984 Sarajevo Winter Olympics

The bobsled and luge track from the 1984 Sarajevo Olympics is probably the most infamous bobsled run in the world. It also is, perhaps, the only bobsled run that has become a major tourist attraction after its use in the Olympics. No one visits Lake Placid, or Salt Lake City, or Vancouver, or Nagano, Japan, to see an historic bobsled run. They do in Sarajevo. But not for reasons that have anything to do with the 1984 Olympics.

The best way to get to the bobsled run is to take the aerial tram. And if you can take an aerial tram to get somewhere, why wouldn't you?

The lower station for the aerial tram is a short walk from my hotel. So hoof it I did.

In less than 10 minutes, I arrived at the lower station.

The tram ride up was a bit of an adventure. About one-third the way up, the car stopped. It probably was stopped for less than two minutes (I didn't time it), but it felt longer. Then the car (and all cars) started backing up. I was heading back down the mountain. I thought: well, this at least is safer. But right before the car got back to the station, it stopped again, only briefly this time, and then started moving back up the mountain in the correct, intended direction.

More fun that a cable car ride should be!

Second time was the charm and soon I was at the summit of aerial tram line:  Mount Trebević.

Time to search for a bobsled track. You can't hide one very easily, I would think, but I did not know how far from the tram station the track was going to be. I just knew what I was told and that the aerial tram was the best way to get to the now-decommissioned bobsled course.

I don't know the purpose of this miniature train that looked like Barney Rubble's car from The Flintstones. But if you are going to make a train where each car looks like one of Barney Rubble's cars, do you need a purpose? Just a Barney and Betty, I would think.

In searching for the bobsled course, I saw the Olympics rings and thought I must be getting warmer.

Which is ironic because it was a little colder up on the mountain than it was down in the city. At least the very light rain had abated.

Views were nice. Typically views are nice on mountaintops on the edge of cities.

And soon, not far from the Olympics, as I surmised, I spied it:

A section of the graffiti-covered bobsled track.

This track is known now among the tourist set for the fact that it is almost completely covered in what the intelligentsia call "graffiti art." The real history is far more sordid and far more tragic.

 

This was a battleground during the Bosnian War of the 1990's.

This looks like a segment of a parallel track -- probably the luge track -- collapsed in decay or from the war.

This is a strange point where it looks like there was a switch between the bobsled and luge tracks.

However, given that each of the tracks were made from concrete, it doesn't seem like the tracks could be switched, so I do not know why this looks like an intersection.

This is now a place for a peaceful walk through a quiet forest. It was not anything like that 30 years ago.

This was the front line during the war. With its strategic high ground, this was a deadly sniper's nest during the war. Artillery and mortars were lobbed down on the city of Sarajevo from here. This area also was extensively mined, so even after the war ended, peaceful strolls through the forest were not feasible,

I am guessing that this area, being on the internal border within Bosnia of the Federation and the Republic Srpska, this high ground was controlled by the forces loyal to Slobodan Milošević.

(Ethnic wounds here have not healed here. The other day, when asking a question about the Bosnian War, I referred to one of the sides as being the "forces of Milošević," and the guide to whom I asked my question immediately said that he understood and appreciated my use of that particular phrasing rather than using an ethnic label.)

Let's rub some salt in the open wound by taking a selfie:

I finally reached what I am guessing was the end of the track:

The reason I am guessing that this was the end is because, at this point, the track starts going slightly upward. Bobsleds don't climb. They descend. So this must have been the end. Only problem? No signage as to how to get back. And my google maps was not working in the middle of the forest. So I did the only thing logical that I knew would be a sure way out.

Backtrack.

I ignored this bit of graffiti art on my dissent:

Then I overheard a guide telling the group he was leading that his bit of graffiti was done by a professional artist from Slovenia. It does look more professional than the other "graffiti art," which looks a lot more "graffiti" and a lot less "art."

The ascent up the track was more tiring than the walk down. Plus my tired legs were even more tired. Luckily, I soon saw the aerial tram overhead and I knew I was getting close to the summit.

Here is an old style aerial tram car that was probably a more "interesting ride".

No longer being lost in the woods -- and, more importantly that I am now seated instead of walking uphill -- I finally can smile.

 

In honor of the 1984 Sarajevo Olympics.

This is the end of the Sarajevo part of the vacation. I am too tired to go out walking to a nice restaurant for some Bosnian cevapci (uncased sausages made from either ground beef or a mixture of ground beef and lamb). Tomorrow I catch an airplane to whisk me off the Asian Turkey part of my vacation adventure.

Santiago: I Ride a Funicular, Then an Aerial Tram. Can Life Be Better?

At the "Oasis" teleferico station

I am in Santiago de Chile. For the second time in six months. Why? Because it's a great city with lots of things to do and I only had two full days/three nights here back in November. And I wanted more. More Santiago de Chile, por favor.

It's a cool crisp fall day in Santiago. I was expecting, based on its latitude, Atlanta type weather. It's more like Philadelphia or Washington, D.C., in November. This definitely is a city of four seasons. 

And there is water in the Mapocho River even those spring melting season past long ago.

Anyway, I only scheduled a couple of days in Santiago during my Chile trip last November because everyone on the internet -- including Chilenos -- said it was boring and dangerous. One or the other is bad enough. But both? I scheduled the minimum amount of time to give the city is a quick look-see and found out that is neither. There is a lot to do. There are great restaurants and wines. The people are very friendly. Prices are cheap. Other than the fact that, being so far south, it's a long flight from the USA, I don't understand why everyone does not want to be here. Oh, did I mention that it is lightly touristed on top of all the other pluses.

This is Santiago's Bellavista, just north of the Mapacho River. This is a major world capital and just a little north of the central core things are peaceful and quiet. It is really hard to believe Santiago is lightly touristed when I reach my first destination of my first day in Santiago: the funicular.

I love a funicular. 

I did ride this the first time in Santiago because if a city has a funicular, that is usually my top tourist priority. If there are any cities I've visited and I've not ridden its funicular, it is either because I did not know it was there (Quebec City) or I heard it was a waste (Zagreb, Croatia, perhaps the shortest functioning funicular in the world).

The Santiago funicular is so nice I've now ridden it twice.

Why a second ride up the mountain side on the fun-icular railway? (A) Do you need a reason? (B) It was the best way to get to the aerial tram traversing Parque Metropolitana de Santiago from high atop Cerro San Cristobal.

It's not a long trip up the mountainside. And, oh by the way, did you know that next year, 2025, is the centennial anniversary of the Cerro San Cristobal funicular railway. Perhaps I should re-arrange my vacation schedule for next year.

At the top of the right, the first sight to see is the Santuario Cerro San Cristobal and the tall statue of the Virgen de la Inmaculada Concepción, the Virgin of the Immaculate Conception, which is visible in Santiago when it's not too foggy/smoggy.

Today was a clear day, relatively.

It is a climb from the upper funicular station.

After paying my respects, it was time to move on, to the Teleferico.

The "Teleferico" is the aerial tram that traverses a big section of Parque Metropolitana. It is an alternative route down the side of Cerro San Cristobal. The slope is more gentle given that it is a whole lot longer.

I do understand the old aerial tram car being outside the uppert station of the tram line. I'm not sure the reason for the Big Chair. It can't be perspective, since the chair is really big. Edith Ann sized at least, if Edith Ann were in a giant, over-sized Adirondack chair.

Time to get on board.

Rush hour on the tram line:

The tram is mostly traversing the open park land of a huge green space just on the north side of Central Santiago and its business district.

Soon the tram car reaches the "Oasis" tram station.

Activity, but it's not like it's lousy with tourists. The area around the Virgen de la Inmaculada Concepción was lousy with school kids. And, despite the signs around the Santuario San Cristobal saying "Silencio," the school kids were loud. As school kids are wont to do, being school kids. Maybe they did not understand the directive "Silencio." I heard schools don't teach foreign languages much anymore. (That was a weak joke. Very weak.)

The view at the base of the aerial tram route, which still was a but elevated, was very nice. The Gran Torre Costanera against the backdrop of the snow-covered Andres Mountains. But that is for later.

After the Glacier (with Patsy Ann)

Just me and Patsy Ann, hanging out by the docks in downtown Juneau

I think my favorite part of visiting Juneau, even more fun than the glacier, was meeting up with Patsy Ann, a bronze statue of a pit bull who lived in Juneau in the 1930s.

Today's rain in Juneau changed over from a light mist at the glacier to a steady drizzle.  Nevertheless, I did the second most touristy thing in Juneau after a chopper to the glacier:  I took the aerial tram up the side of Mount Roberts.

Weirdly enough, my fear of heights notwithstanding, I love funiculars and cable cars and aerial trams.

This one went up the side of a sheer cliff, conveniently right near the cruise ship docks in Juneau.

Once we got to the top, I was noticing (a) that the rain was getting progressively harder and (b) I was hungry after all the glacier walking, so I decided to get a bite to eat.

Right at the aerial tram station atop Mount Roberts is the Timberline restaurant.  I ordered an Alaskan beer.

It was a hoppy double IPA ("hoppy" in the herb "hops" sense, not the jumping bunny rabbit sense).  The name was a cutesy play on words with the word "hops."  I had to look up the name when typing this because my memory was calling the brew "hopothalymus" or something like that.

Turns out it's called "hopothermia," which is almost as bad.

I decided to go native with the dinner order.  Above is the reindeer stew.  It was heavier on the bacon than the reindeer, which was OK with me.  And then of course I got the Timberline's signature dish:

Crab nachos.  Everyone tells you you have to get the crab nachos here.  I felt like not doing so would be like going to Philadelphia and not eating a cheesesteak.  Or going to New Orleans and not having cafe au lait and beignets.  Or going to L.A. and not eating pastrami.  (L.A. is a huge pastrami town.  Trust me on this one.)

I ate all my reindeer stew and most of my crab nachos (which I would rate "not bad") and walked around the area at the top.

The views were nice even with the rain and clouds and fog.

They do have a bald eagle up top available for photographing.

Meet Lady Baltimore.

She can't fly because of a long-ago accident, so it's not a bad thing that she lives her life cooped up in this hut.  It beats the natural alternative.

Juneau is absolutely lousy with bald eagles, by the way.  They were hanging out on lampposts on the drive to the helicopter port.  Anyway, I opted out of walking the trails up at the mountain top because I was tired and over-stuffed from trying to put away too many of those crab nachos (could've been crabbier, just sayin').  So I trammed it back down to the cruise ship docks.  And when walking along the docks, who did I see?

Meet Patsy Ann.  The town dog of Juneau in the 1930s.  Rather than summarize and paraphrase, I'm going to post the plaque that tells her story.  Click on the pic to blow it up and read it, if you can.

Here are the highlights.  She was brought to town in 1929 by a local dentist.  She preferred wandering the town instead of living in a home, so that's what she did.  Although deaf, she had an uncanny knack for knowing when a steamship was about to arrive in town, before anyone else in town did.  When she knew a steamship was a half-mile away, she would trot down to the town docks and wait patiently.  She was declared the town's "Official Greeter" in 1934.

I love metal animal statuary.  And statues memorializing actual real former dogs are the best.  Here's a particularly pensive view:

And that concludes the Juneau tourism part of the mini-vacation.  Shall I post more pictures of Alaska?

Quoth the raven:  nevermore.