An Englishman in the Balkans

David Pejčinović-Bailey MBE

This podcast is about exploring life in Bosnia and Herzegovina, sharing personal stories and cultural insights. It blends vivid storytelling about the unique aspects of Balkan life, its traditions, food, and history, with reflections on adapting to a new culture in later life. It offers you a mix of inspiration, practical advice, and a glimpse into an authentic, slower-paced lifestyle. www.coffeeandrakija.com

  1. Maybe the First Punk Podcast from Bosnia and Herzegovina

    12/17/2025

    Maybe the First Punk Podcast from Bosnia and Herzegovina

    I Didn’t Set Out to Make a Punk Podcast I didn’t wake up one morning with a plan to do something called punk podcasting.In truth, I only heard the phrase recently, mentioned in passing, and it stayed with me as I went out for my daily walk. I try, as much as possible, to always have a recorder in my pocket. So I can record my steps as I walk, the dogs barking in the village, in other words, Bosnia, quietly getting on with things. As I was walking, this idea suddenly dawned on me. I might already be doing it. Not deliberately. Not theatrically. Just by stopping. Stepping Away from the Noise As you know, I live in a small village in northern Bosnia and Herzegovina. I’ve been here long enough for the place to stop being scenery and start shaping how I think and speak. These days, most of what I make begins with sound rather than a screen, walking audio, field recordings, spoken thoughts recorded once and left largely alone. There’s no studio polish. No algorithm breathing down my neck. No sense that something has to justify itself through numbers or performance. That wasn’t a creative strategy. It was a quiet retreat. What “Punk” Means to Me Now Punk, at least in this context, isn’t about noise or rebellion for its own sake. It’s about refusal. Refusing to optimise every sentence. Refusing to explain yourself into neat little boxes. Refusing the idea that creative work only matters if it scales. Some episodes are short. Some drift. I’m so guilty of rambling.Some contain long pauses where nothing much happens at all, birds, wind, footsteps, the sound of thinking. That used to feel like breaking rules. Now it feels like remembering what audio was always meant to do. Why Bosnia Matters I don’t think I could make this work from somewhere louder, faster, or more performative. Maybe like it would back in Kensington in London, where I was born.Bosnia gives me distance. From trends, from urgency, from the constant demand to be relevant. Life here allows unfinished thoughts. It allows walking without purpose. It allows silence without embarrassment. Without realising it, that has seeped into my podcasting. The place I suppose has shaped the voice. So… the First Punk Podcast from Bosnia? Maybe. I genuinely don’t know, and I’m not especially interested in proving it. There may well be others, in Bosnian or in English, doing something just as independent and just as unconcerned with the usual rules. But in spirit and in practice, what I’m making feels close.Audio-first, independent. Not built for platforms, and made by someone old enough to stop asking permission. A Quiet Invitation If there’s a point to all this, it’s a simple one. If you’re making something because you need to, not because it fits, sells, or scales, then you’re already closer to punk than you think. And if that work happens to come from Bosnia, carried on footsteps and birdsong, then so much the better. This isn’t built to chase anyone. It’s built to exist. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.coffeeandrakija.com/subscribe

    3 min
  2. 12/12/2025

    A Life Between Worlds

    Hello again from northern Bosnia. Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to keep creating as the years move on. Not in a dramatic way, more in the quiet minutes between things. The morning walks, the stove-top coffee, the soft hum of the Vrbas as it rolls along. At nearly 73, I sometimes wonder why I still record podcasts, film my walks, or write these reflections. Nothing forces me to. And yet, I keep returning to the microphone and this page. A Life in Chapters I’ve lived in Bosnia, on and off, since the late 1990s. Before and after that, life took me to Canada, Kosovo, Afghanistan, the Caucasus, Ethiopia, places shaped by conflict, transition, and people simply trying to get on with their lives. Looking back, each chapter feels like its own separate story, but Bosnia has been the thread tying them together. A World That Feels Unsteady It’s impossible not to notice how fragile the world feels at the moment. Institutions that once seemed solid now wobble. Principles that held communities together appear to be slipping away. That disappointment is real, though it isn’t bitterness. It’s simply an awareness that hard-earned lessons are being brushed aside with surprising ease. The Anchor in Ordinary Days And yet, life here offers daily reminders of stability.A neighbour calling across the fence, a familiar walk through the fields, a cat settling into the warmest spot in the house. These small, grounding moments give shape to the days and make reflection feel worthwhile. Why I Keep Sharing I don’t tell stories because I have answers. I tell them because speaking honestly about life at this age still matters. If you’re over 50 or 60 and trying to understand your place in a shifting world, you’re not alone. The latest podcast episode explores this more deeply. And of course, if you’d like to keep up with my own stories of life in Bosnia, from rainy afternoons in Banja Luka to the hidden corners of the Balkans, check out these recent posts. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.coffeeandrakija.com/subscribe

    9 min
  3. 09/28/2025

    The Women Shepherds of Lukomir - Life on Bosnia’s Timeless Mountain

    Discovering a Village in the Clouds Hello again, it’s David, and today 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. But Lukomir is more than its altitude and stone houses. It’s a place where traditions are lived, not displayed. And what struck me most wasn’t the scenery (though it’s breathtaking), but the people, and in particular, the women shepherds who keep this village alive. A Morning with the Flocks It’s nine o’clock in the morning. I’m chewing on some dry meat (yes, my mum always said don’t talk with your mouth full, but here we are). Around me, the village comes alive. Bells clink in the distance, whistles echo across the grass, and then suddenly, waves of sheep. To my eyes it looked like thousands, though it was probably just hundreds. And who’s leading them? Not grizzled old men with staffs, as you might expect, but women. Older women, walking steadily with their dogs at their sides, guiding flock after flock up into the high country. It’s not just a novelty for visitors like me, it’s a way of life here, one that’s been passed down through generations. Why Women? Traditionally, herding was always a shared family duty. Men tended to the hay fields, fixed fences, or went off to markets, while women took charge of the flocks, milked sheep, spun wool, and made cheese. Later, as men left the village to work in Sarajevo or abroad, in Austria, Germany, or Slovenia, the women stayed. Their role as shepherds grew more visible, and today they’re the ones who embody the rhythm of Lukomir’s survival. As one villager put it, you don’t herd sheep with strength, you herd them with patience. And patience is something these women have in abundance. Watching them, I realised resilience doesn’t always look like brute force. Sometimes it looks like quiet footsteps on a stony ridge, season after season, year after year. Life Between Pasture and Hearth Life here follows a steady cycle. In the mornings, sheep are led out to graze. By afternoon, the women are making cheese, spinning wool, and knitting socks that hikers like me inevitably end up buying. By evening, barbecue smoke drifts across the village, neighbours gather, and the sound of rain patters on tin roofs. That’s exactly how my day ended. After a long hike (six kilometers that felt like twelve, especially after the soles of my boots gave way!), we found ourselves sheltered under a small tin roof, rain hammering down as we tucked into a barbecue feast.Chicken wings, Zenica ćevap, and šiš kebabs, while across the ridge, women shepherds were still moving their flocks. A Lesson in Resilience Lukomir isn’t just a relic from the past. It’s alive, but under pressure. Young people leave, winters are unforgiving, and only a handful of families remain. Yet the image of women shepherds remains strong. They are the keepers of both knowledge and tradition, the kind you don’t learn from a book, but from decades of living in rhythm with the land. I found myself getting unexpectedly emotional here. Maybe it was the altitude, maybe the long walk, or maybe just the sheer privilege of witnessing a way of life so quietly powerful. Resilience here isn’t about dominance, it’s about community, patience, and endurance. Why You Should Visit If you ever come to Bosnia and Herzegovina, Lukomir should be on your list. It’s not the easiest place to reach, and accommodation can be tricky, but trust me, it’s worth every effort. You’ll find not only stunning landscapes but also living traditions that remind us what it means to survive and thrive on the edge of the world. And when you think of shepherds in the Balkans, don’t just picture an old man with a crook. Picture Lukomir, where women guide their flocks across the high pastures, keeping alive not just their animals, but a culture, a history, and a way of life. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.coffeeandrakija.com/subscribe

    11 min
  4. 09/19/2025

    Rain, Pita, and Spomeniks: A Conversation with Jennie Blythe

    A Lunch in the Rain There’s something about sharing a meal when you first meet someone in real life. It softens the edges, slows the pace, and creates space for proper conversation. That’s exactly how I met Jennie Blythe, a photographer, writer, and fellow Substacker, during her recent trip to Bosnia and Herzegovina. We’d been corresponding online for a while, both fascinated by the Western Balkans, but this was the first time we’d sat across a table together. The setting? A small, tucked-away spot in Banja Luka, known for serving pita baked under the sač. Not long after we arrived, the heavens opened. Rain hammered down against the windows, turning the street outside into a mirror. Inside, it only made the atmosphere warmer: steaming food, chatter at the other tables, and two Substackers swapping stories. First Impressions of Banja Luka Jennie has visited Bosnia several times before – Sarajevo, Mostar, the waterfalls of Jajce, but this was her first time in Banja Luka. She smiled as she told me how the city struck her. Bigger than expected. Cleaner, more modern. And her walk up to the Spomenik on Ban Brdo the evening before had given her a taste of the local rhythm: families and joggers making the climb, enjoying the cooler air at sunset. That monument is something else. Tito is said to have considered it one of the greatest of all the Spomeniks built across Yugoslavia. Jennie described it as almost “Egyptian,” with its heavy, mausoleum-like structure and headless sphinx shapes. She had noticed the stark reliefs carved into the stone, depictions of violence so graphic they took her aback. Later, she learned those weren’t abstract images. They told real stories of what happened in this region during the Second World War. Drawn to the Balkans I wanted to know what had pulled Jennie here in the first place. After all, she’s based in the UK, with a career background in IT and e-commerce. Her answer was simple and honest. She studied French and history at university, and that love of languages and the past never left her. When she first visited Slovenia a decade ago, she felt something, “an atmosphere, a creativity”, and it kept calling her back. For Jennie, the region is more than its wars. Yes, she’s academically interested in the study of genocide, but not in the mechanics of violence. She wants to understand why it happens, what political and psychological forces drive people there. And yet, when she speaks of Bosnia, she lights up at the things that have nothing to do with conflict: the warmth of its people, the countryside, and the feeling of stepping back to a gentler time. A Photographer’s Eye Jennie is a professional photographer, and it was fascinating to hear how she sees the world. “Every photographer has their own way of noticing,” she told me. For her, it’s often small, telling details, a Spomenik on a street corner, a curve of architecture, or even the posture of older men whose hunched shoulders bear the weight of trauma. She does practice street photography, but always with respect. “It comes down to why you’re taking the photo,” she said. Not to mock, not to exploit, but to capture a story. In nearly ten years she’s only been shouted at three times — proof that people here are more bemused than bothered. The Slow Burn of Substack Of course, we had to talk about Substack. It’s where we first connected. For Jennie, the platform has reignited her creative writing after years of focusing on her career. Instagram, she said, is “fire-and-forget”, great for a quick hit, but not for building narratives. Substack, on the other hand, is slower, steadier, and more rewarding. She’s gathered a loyal community of readers who share her curiosity about the Balkans, even if friends back home in England think she’s “batshit crazy” for her obsession. Looking Ahead By the time we finished our meal, the rain outside had eased into a fine drizzle. Jennie spoke of her dream of one day owning a stone house here, by a stream, where she could bring her cats and spend her time writing and photographing. I smiled. Bosnia has that effect on people. It creeps into your imagination until, sooner or later, you can’t help but dream of staying. Closing Thoughts If you’d like to explore more of Jennie’s work, I’d encourage you to subscribe to her Substack. You’ll find a link below. And of course, if you’d like to keep up with my own stories of life in Bosnia, from rainy afternoons in Banja Luka to the hidden corners of the Balkans, check out these recent posts. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.coffeeandrakija.com/subscribe

    14 min
  5. 09/07/2025

    Inside Bosnia’s Dog Sanctuary

    In this episode, I’d like to take you with me down a quiet country track here in Northern Bosnia and Herzegovina. At the end of that track lies the Sunny Shelter, home to nearly 200 dogs, many of whom would otherwise have been forgotten. You’ll meet Mei Sawanoi, a Finnish woman who made the extraordinary decision to leave her life in Finland behind and move here permanently to care for these animals alongside her husband, Dražen. You’ll also hear from Elin, one of the dedicated Finnish volunteers who travels at her own expense to spend time helping at the shelter. And behind the scenes, you’ll learn about Päivi Sillankorva, the co-founder who continues to keep everything running from Finland through fundraising and adoptions. This is a story of compassion, resilience, and the kind of quiet determination that changes lives, not just for the dogs, but for the people who care for them too. So settle in as I introduce you to the remarkable world of Sunny Shelter and the network known as Balkan Dogs. A Quiet Track, A Loud Mission There’s a rutted track winding through trees and farmland in Northern Bosnia, not marked on any map, unheralded, but at its end lies something extraordinary: Sunny Shelter, part of the Balkan Dogs network. The video we just shared takes you there, and in retrospective reflection, I’m still struck by the contrast between the rural calm and the barking, tails-wagging chaos that greets you inside the gates. Balkan Dogs: From Finland to Bosnia Balkan Dogs is a Finnish-registered nonprofit founded in spring 2015 by Päivi Sillankorva and Mei Sawanoi, entirely powered by volunteers and donations. Their mission spans Kosovo and northern Bosnia, improving living conditions for stray dogs, whether providing basic needs like food and vaccines or supporting local shelters, both municipal and private. In Bosnia, the organisation also backs a municipal facility in Preslica, near Doboj,, which had a poor reputation until a new manager began improving conditions . The Daily Reality at Sunny Shelter Sunny Shelter is not run from afar. Mei made the life-changing move to Bosnia in 2019, feeding, sorting, driving to Banja Luka or Gradiška for vet visits, and largely living there around the clock. Together, Mei and her husband Dražen tend to almost 200 dogs, several born in the shelter and others rescued from municipal pens or abandoned by owners. Back in Finland, Päivi organises fundraising, food drives, vet bills, and adoptions. The two-part operation, one driving hands-on care, the other ensuring resources, makes Sunny Shelter possible. Volunteers join Mei and Dražen for weeks at a time, continuing that chain of in-person support I found so moving in the quarantine building. Beyond Bosnia: Regional Struggles, Shared Missions What’s happening at Sunny Shelter exists within a broader context. Across the Balkans, stray dogs often face neglect or cruelty, locked in dirty cages, starved, or worse. In Kosovo especially, dog cruelty remains widespread, despite laws to the contrary . Why Sunny Shelter Matters Sunny Shelter isn’t just another sanctuary, it’s a lifeline. Here, dogs are allowed to rally, to form packs, to run in open yards. They’re vaccinated, rehabilitated, sometimes shipped across Europe to Finland, where many find homes. The effort to get 93 dogs re-homed in Finland in 2024 is no small feat. But beyond the numbers, what stays with me is the humanity in the shelter. Mei’s calm dedication after adopting one dog from Serbia more than a decade ago turned into a full-fledged mission: “I could live here,” she told her supporters. So she did. And that simple act, one person moving across countries, building a sanctuary, echoes through the lives of hundreds of dogs. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.coffeeandrakija.com/subscribe

    18 min
  6. 08/08/2025

    Why I Don’t Talk Politics in Bosnia and Herzegovina

    For sometime now I have become a permanent resident of Bosnia and Herzegovina. This podcast episode isn’t about the beauty of the Vrbas river or where to find the best ćevapi (although there’s plenty of that on this channel). It’s about why, despite living here for over two decades, I choose not to talk publicly about politics. Now don’t get me wrong. I am interested. I follow what’s happening. I see how decisions impact everyday life. But I also know, deeply, that this isn’t my country. And with that comes responsibility: to observe, not interfere. To listen, not judge. When friends and visitors ask me about the conflict, the three presidents, or the state of the country today, I tell them what I can. But the truth? The truth depends on who you ask. Bosnia and Herzegovina is many things. Complicated. Fragmented. Yes, dysfunctional. But also endlessly generous, rich in stories, and deeply human. It’s a living archive of history, culture, pain, pride, and resilience. In this episode, I reflect on the minefield of discussing politics as a foreigner, the legacy of the Dayton Agreement, and why it’s better to explore Bosnia through its people, not its politics. If you’re curious about this beautiful, complex place, watch, listen, and maybe even plan your own journey to this heart-shaped land. 🙌 Support the Podcast: If you enjoy the show and want to help keep it going, you can: → Share the episode → Leave a review → Or tip a coffee via Buy Me a Coffee This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.coffeeandrakija.com/subscribe

    6 min
  7. 08/04/2025

    Radio Without Borders

    In this special reflective episode, I step beyond the familiar landscapes of the Balkans to the vibrant and complex South Caucasus. Originally recorded in Tbilisi, Georgia nearly a decade ago, in 2015, this reflective and timely story explores how online radio became a revolutionary tool for connection, culture, and civil change. Join me on the ground with media teams from Georgia, Armenia, and Abkhazia under the visionary “Radio Without Borders” project. Coffee and Rakija is a reader/listener/viewer-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a paid subscriber. Hear how independent voices are harnessing digital airwaves to promote women’s rights, civil society, and even introduce the world to Georgian reggae. Through candid conversations and powerful personal stories, you’ll meet resilient broadcasters and activists pushing back against censorship, overcoming geopolitical tension, and using media to bridge seemingly impossible divides. 🧭 What You’ll Hear in This Episode: The role of online radio in conflict zones Women-led media innovation in the Caucasus Georgian reggae: yes, really! Youth media empowerment in Armenia and Azerbaijan Why independent voices matter, then and now Whether you’re passionate about media freedom, international collaboration, or simply want to hear stories of hope in unlikely places, this episode will leave you inspired by the power of sound and the spirit of solidarity. 🎧 Tune in—and discover the radio revolution you probably never heard about. Update – A Year Later in Tbilisi Since first sharing my reflections on media training in Georgia back in 2015, I’ve had the chance to find another podcast episode that was recorded during a follow-up visit in 2016, where I reconnected with some of the original participants and met new voices shaping the future of digital media across the region. Their stories offer a raw and hopeful glimpse into grassroots media activism in the South Caucasus. I thought it only fitting to include it here as a companion to the original episode. From Tbilisi to Baku. Stories of activism, hope, and media freedom in Azerbaijan and Georgia. Behind the Scenes Content ⬇️ (from July 2015) 🗣️ Join the Conversation: “How do you think online radio or independent media can make a difference in regions facing conflict or limited press freedom?” Drop me a comment on Substack, reply to this episode, or find me on YouTube. 🙌 Support the Podcast: If you enjoy the show and want to help keep it going, you can: → Share the episode → Leave a review → Or tip a coffee via Buy Me a Coffee This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.coffeeandrakija.com/subscribe

    33 min
  8. 08/01/2025

    The Truth About Podcasting in Bosnia

    In this episode, I pull back the curtain on what it’s really like to podcast from a rural village in Bosnia and Herzegovina. From power cuts and patchy internet to roosters interrupting my recordings, this is the unfiltered truth about trying to create meaningful audio content in a place where podcasting is still unfamiliar to most people. But despite the setbacks, I keep going, and in this episode, I explain why. Whether you’re a fellow content creator, a podcast listener curious about Balkan life, or someone thinking of starting your own show from a remote location, this is an honest reflection on the joys and frustrations of podcasting from the edge of Europe. 🧭 What You’ll Hear in This Episode: The surprising challenges of podcasting from Bosnia Why podcast culture isn’t mainstream here (yet) The emotional rollercoaster of podcasting in isolation What makes it all worth it Encouragement for creators off the beaten path 🗣️ Join the Conversation: Have you ever tried creating something in a place that didn’t make it easy? What kept you going? Drop me a comment on Substack, reply to this episode, or find me on YouTube. 🙌 Support the Podcast: If you enjoy the show and want to help keep it going, you can: → Share the episode → Leave a review → Or tip a coffee via Buy Me a Coffee This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.coffeeandrakija.com/subscribe

    4 min

Trailer

About

This podcast is about exploring life in Bosnia and Herzegovina, sharing personal stories and cultural insights. It blends vivid storytelling about the unique aspects of Balkan life, its traditions, food, and history, with reflections on adapting to a new culture in later life. It offers you a mix of inspiration, practical advice, and a glimpse into an authentic, slower-paced lifestyle. www.coffeeandrakija.com