I beg Bosnian passport stamps from the steely border guard. Grumbling, he spits on the inkpad and resets the date.
Yes, yes, we should be above stamp-collecting. But I'm on the road with the inventor of strip passport, a yet unproven game of travel one-upmanship.
"We'll get Marie with Bosnia," he chortles.
"She circumnavigated the world by surface transport", I point out. "We might win this battle, but we'd lose the war."
He reflects. "I'm a pacifist, really."
"Me too," I agree. I like that strip passport* exists. The concept will really liven up hostels, not that most need more frisson.
But my blue booklet ain't anteing any time soon.