gave a toast to that country's demise.
The bartender Mario runs the bar with his father Luci, who lives nextdoor. He bought me a beer as I was drawing this; on St. Patrick's Day, it was the only bar without hooligans packed to the gills stumbling over free shots. Later on after I drew it, I showed it to Mario, and he identified all the people in the drawing and where they were from, mostly a street or two away. I gave the drawing to Mario, and he hung it across from the 14th century siege ball.
Luci, who started the bar, was a musician and singer in Dubrovački Trubaduri; a band that gained wide popularity in Europe in the 60's through their appearances in the 1968 Eurovision contest. Heres a video of Luci singing within the Old City, and their Eurovision appearance (Luci with flute).
weeks after meeting the drunken gynecologist, I stopped by the bar one afternoon to find Luci and a shoebox-sized brick of tobacco the doctor had left for me. Harvested by the doc's family in Bosnia, it cannot be legally sold in the Balkans; only received as a gift. After presenting me with the box, Luci had me watch the bar for a moment and returned with papers and his rolling machine. We smoked a few in the bar, which weeks later would become illegal after the April 9th indoor smoking ban in the country.
Even with 3 months of smoking like a European and sharing as many cigarettes as I did, I wasn't able to finish half the box before I left. I took a chance, and somehow brought it home in my checked luggage.
Ask me for a cigarette at the bar one of these days, chances are you can roll a gynecologist-approved Balkan smoke for yourself.