Bosnia, bucks and bear hugs

A brace of resplendent roe in a majestic setting makes the moonshine taste even sweeter as Sam Carlisle toasts a fitting finale to a dream trip

- Sam Carlisle

Onwards, upwards and more remote we went. The hum of Sarajevo was behind us and the Bosnian mountains rose ahead.

Eventually, we arrived at a wooden house on a grassy plain — the local hunting office. Three smiling men, in wildlife ranger uniforms, emerged to greet us. They ushered us into the main room, where every inch of the wall was covered with taxidermy: bears, lynx, capercaillie, chamois, and more roebuck than you could count.

Nick chatted merrily with them in Bosnian. It was clear that not much English would be spoken on this trip. Nick lives and works in Bosnia and had organized this trip for his nephew, James, who in turn invited me.

Bojan, the head ranger, poured moonshine from an unlabelled bottle into shot glasses. Our paperwork was in order and we had to toast the upcoming hunt. The office was hot and the strong liquor burned the back of my throat. Thankfully they didn’t refill my glass but herded us into a fleet of Dacias.

We were hunting in 18,000 hectares of commercial forestry. It quickly became clear that this is not akin to the ecologically suspect commercial forestry I am used to. I was surrounded by steep hillsides of ancient woodland and, at the edges, a diverse understorey erupted. Indigenous broadleaves dominate and the odd evergreen was also a native.

Nick would later explain that no clear-felling has ever taken place in these forests. Individual trees are selected for quality, preserving the canopy and integrity of the landscape.