I was amazed by the level of detail.

Although here and there you stumble across an episode that is suspiciously lacking in detail, most of the book is so rich you really feel like you are there where the author takes you.

Belgrade. Unsafe for toddlers with an exploring spirit compared to the safe lawns of Australia.

The suburbs of Melbourne or a never heard off mining town in South-Australia.

I didn’t expect to learn much about the wars in Yugoslavia, but I did. I feel like I understand the dynamic behind the wars a bit better.

My reason for reading this book was to be invited into the world of one invidual and get to see all of that person’s experiences, the building blocks that make a human being.

I feel like that appetite was thoroughly satisfied with this book and I feel richer for having read it.

I don’t wish to summarize this book, but I have just closed it and the feeling am left with is:

Our lives go on until one day they don’t.

That’s not easy to accept, but in this case there really is no alternative.

As someone who’s lost his father way sooner than what feels fair to me I understand how the author’s motivation in writing this book must partly have been to honor her father. She does so endearingly.

As all the people described in this book you feel like you met him personally.

If a book can taste like the Balkans then this one does.