Peculiar journey. The last rooms, although I had stayed in them before, proved difficult, as with the midsummer foliage and the wall opposite, it was a bit like a basement, and the reason for the dozen or so air fresheners around the WC and hallway became apparent, as I slowly became aware that there was a sewage blockage. Rented at multiples of the local cost, of course, with added insurance costs. Looking back on it now, as I consciously just swam the tide, as it were, at the time. Travel in this part of the world for an American of Slavic/German ancestry isn't necessarily straightforward at times. There's an ethic of rules of hospitality, and everyone's eager to make a bit of money on the tourist industry, but they sometimes clearly expect clueless Americans from Disneyland with rolling luggage from the airport. And Bosnia is not a place where you would want to tally up and remember the micro-aggressions on sidewalks, benches, and grocery stores. Just swim on through a country bedeviled by more spiritual forces than most Americans could handle for more than a few days. (Like many other countries in the region.)
Rented luggage storage on checkout day, which I had previously thought to be a luxury, but came to understand a necessity. The contractor was a Celtic pub, which was reassuring, but I then checked that sense as deceiving when I realized it was staffed entirely by (kilted) locals. Peculiarly un-Hibernian. So I made a point of going through the bag item by item on a park bench afterwards, as I have no intention of spending a decade in a Serbian prison from contraband that had accidentally fallen inside somehow.
Then the difficult journey. Afterwards, figured out enough of the tram to get from the distant bus station to the center. The Sbux across from the parliament had a WC that reeked of sewage, so I just briefly ducked in before decamping to a chair outside for the 90 minutes or so before the diplomats' mass at the Cathedral. (Audibly translated from English to French by someone in the back, including the words of institution and--perhaps--consecration.) Then to the check-in, did the first level of cleaning in the rooms in a rather noisy and industrial neighborhood (but very close to desirable areas and the main roads). As it turns out, the listed shared laundry facilities amount to contacting the staff, scheduling a pick-up, and then paying 5e/load, so I'm back to laundromats and hand-washing, like in Bucharest a little over a year ago. Humble quarters. And then the grocery for water and food. (Made sure to go back to the Sbux and the same grocery the next day, rested, cleaned, and more professionally dressed -- all of the cultures in this part of the world are honestly an inch from fascism (in different, interesting ways), and one does have to both be careful of such things and not care a bit about them.
Last bit of cleaning of the rooms today, including prising the half-inch of caked dust from the internal filter of the AC unit. (Peculiarly, the way these units are designed here, presumably given the inability to run ductwork through external walls of unreinforced masonry, there's no fresh air from these units -- they invariably recycle room air.)
Onward, in a (or perhaps the) manner of speaking.