Yesterday I wrote about Hotel Jugoslavija, and today I will too. That hotel is tied to one almost unbelievable fact from my life. The hotel lasted, “lived,” exactly as long as my formal working career – 55 years. It opened in November 1969 and was demolished in October 2024. That same month I retired and began working as if I were just starting my career.
In 1969, I started volunteering at the Sarajevo bureau of Večernje novosti from Belgrade. I don’t know what Sreten Petrović, the bureau chief, saw in me, but he chose me to go to Belgrade to finalize some important matters for the Sarajevo bureau with editor-in-chief Miki Stamenković. Novosti would send particularly gifted young correspondents for a one-month internship in Belgrade. I guess I was one of them when they sent me to the “Belgrade school of journalism.” They covered all expenses: flight, hotel, per diems… all in a very classy way.
I arrived in Belgrade and immediately reported to Milojka Mlađenović, head of the correspondent service, to ask which hotel I should go to. There was a Technology Fair going on, and within a hundred kilometers of Belgrade there wasn’t a single available room – even if you offered a gold coin. I knew that, but I thought Novosti had “their” own hotel. I was wrong.
“Bato,” she said, “I see you’re capable and resourceful. You’ll find a hotel, and on the last day, bring me the bill so we can withdraw the money from the cashier.”
I left Novosti, stopped the first taxi, and told the driver: “To Hotel Jugoslavija, please.” The hotel had just opened, the first deluxe-category hotel in the country—absurdly expensive and, for some, not insignificantly, the guest list was sent to the police every day to see who was staying there. I knew there had to be rooms. And there were. The hotel was almost empty. I remember it was a beautiful sunny day. I bought a swimsuit at the hotel boutique and went down to the pool set on a gorgeous lawn. That’s how my month-long “bey-like” stay at Hotel Jugoslavija began.
The next morning at work, Milojka asked if I had found a hotel. I said I had. She didn’t ask which one, and I didn’t say anything. When I brought her the bill a month later, she nearly fainted.
“You didn’t have to stay at Jugoslavija!”
“Well, you didn’t set any limits, so I thought it was fine.”
Her hand trembled as she signed the cashier order for the bill – an expense that people in Novosti talked about for months afterward.
I was a bit worried about how my boss in Sarajevo would react, since Milojka surely told him everything. When I showed up at the door of his office, he stood up, walked over to me, and hugged me.
“Good on you for doing that. Well done. They always see us from Sarajevo as country bumpkins – nice job showing them how to treat us.”
A year later, I got a job at Radio Sarajevo. I won’t go into detail now about how, as a graduate of a technical high school, I was practically the first person to get a permanent job there without a university degree. That’s a story for another time.
Without bragging too much, I was good. I worked hard and did good work. I loved marketing programs and was eager to learn. Somewhere I read that Žozef Lončar, publisher and editor-in-chief of Privredna propaganda magazine, was organizing a one-year specialization course in Belgrade on business advertising. Every month, for ten days – classes in Belgrade. Everything paid for: flight, hotel, and per diems. It was a big expense, but the managers at the radio station decided I was worth the investment.
I wrote a request to the Workers’ Council to approve the specialization and cover the costs. It was all approved, and I embarked on a new adventure.
Of course, I chose Hotel Jugoslavija again, and from the very first month, I spent all ten days at the pool – working. That first month, and every one after, I carried a folder labeled “Belgrade.” I would stuff it with materials related to special projects. Every month when I arrived in Belgrade – straight to the pool: reading, writing, brainstorming campaigns, slogans, proposals… Every afternoon I played table tennis with the legendary mayor of Belgrade, Branko Pešić, who lived near the hotel. I never attended a single lecture – not even once. I didn’t even know where they were held.
No one at Radio Sarajevo ever asked me for a certificate of completion. And even if they had – and I told them I hadn’t attended, and why – I doubt anyone would’ve minded. The benefit Radio Sarajevo got from my work far outweighed the cost of my training.
Recently, Žozef Lončar, on his way to Mostar, stopped by Sarajevo for lunch as my guest. I reminded him of this story. He knew I hadn’t attended. Žozef has been in Mostar for two months now, writing his biography. He says it will be over 800 pages, and from the start, he planned to write about “my” specialization and my work.
I love marketing! I’ve loved it my whole life – because it offers the best working conditions and pleasures few other jobs can provide, as long as you’re willing to work and earn them. In marketing, the sky is the limit. Marketing, advertising, communications industry – call it whatever you like. It wears well!
That’s why, now at the end of my career, I came up with Advertisimo – a concert by the Sarajevo Philharmonic for agencies, clients, and media. A time to mingle, celebrate successes at the end of one business year, and wish each other great results in the next. The first concert, in January this year, received a perfect score from music critics. The Sarajevo Philharmonic was conducted by Ivo Lipanović – certainly one of the best conductors in the region today. The piano soloist was Ruben Dalibaltayan.
I signed a contract with Maestro Lipanović for him to be the artistic director of Advertisimo for the next three years. The next concert will be held on February 20, 2026. We moved it from January due to school holidays and the fact that many people use their remaining vacation days in January.
We’re still in Sarajevo next February, and then we’re heading out to conquer the region. Agencies, clients, and media work across borders, so it’s only logical that Advertisimo meets one year in Sarajevo, the next in Zagreb, then Belgrade, Ljubljana, Skopje…
