Thursday night, after taking about a 14 hour nap in my beautiful apartment, we go to Beerfest. Now, anyone that knows me knows I don’t like the taste of beer, so this might seem kind of, well, retarded, I suppose. But it gets me out of feeling guilty for missing Oktoberfest, so I go. Plus, it’s an excuse to get to Belgrade (as if I needed one). So after searching for about an hour for a parking space (which is a feat – in Belgrade they park the cars on the curb, on the median, on police officers – three high, if need be, they don’t care), we finally make it in. I’m not sure what was better, the beers for €1 or sneaking up on the 6’30” Serbian Sniper in front of the Bg tent. Six of one, half a dozen of another. But what on earth was that music they were playing? It was like Serbian folk music. I expected something…well, I’m not sure exactly what I expected, but it wasn’t that.
Cut to Friday afternoon. Sanja picked me up and took me to Boris’ for just about the best hors d’oeuvres I’ve ever had in my life. Boris’ son Milan decided to call Japan from my cell phone. Thanks for that. But we had a nice relaxing evening, sitting back, talking economics (again, sounds boring but isn’t) be it Serbian, American, Russian, etc. It was very relaxing…initially. It was getting late and Boris had to put Milan to bed, so 'Magellan' (Dragana) swung by and picked me up and took me down to Hotel Yugoslavija. Kind of. I’m not even sure what the purpose was, but it didn’t matter because we never got there. We parked the car somewhere and began this epic journey in search of the Hotel. I should have noticed something was amiss when we took four lefts, preceded by four rights. That’s not something you get on Google Maps all that often. After about a half hour of walking there we realized we were lost (this was nothing new to me after being lost the minute I stepped onto Serbian soil) and turned around to go back. Except…where is the car?? All the streets look the same. Great. Three hours (I’m not really exaggerating all that much, honestly), several sit-down breaks, and a Costas Coffee run later (okay that part I made up…although I think we passed the same Costas Coffee place about four times), we find the car. It’s 3am. Super. And on our way back, what do we pass? You guessed it: Hotel Yugoslavija. Communists.
Cut to Saturday evening (it’s easy to do since my mornings have been basically non-existent). After a beautiful day spent on the River Sava at Nikola’s houseboat (see pictures), a bunch of us meet up at Skadarlija for dinner and drinks. It’s about this time that I come to the realization that no, Belgrade is not some war-torn ghetto you see in films in the States (they don’t specifically target Serbia, but rather the entire Eastern Bloc). It gets a bad rep being part of former Yugoslavia and being a very poor country, but I like it. It's not as pretty as Copenhagen or Stockholm certainly, but there are some hidden treasures here; Skardarlija, reminiscient of Monmartre, is an excellent example. So we’re sitting there, and I realize I am in the midst of paradise: it’s about 75F, there is live music and people cheering, beers are flowing and they are cheap (I’ll take a €1.50 Lav over a €6 Carlsberg (Denmark) any day), and the women (at our table, no less!) are stunning. There are eight of us at the table: myself, Stefano, Dusan (I think), and five absolutely stunning women (Dragana, Sandra, Natasa, Milena III, and some chick I’ve never met before). I know I sound like a broken record, but what is in the water here? I expected it on the beaches of Greece (you have to bring your A game there), but in downtown Belgrade? I’ve noticed the obesity epidemic we have in the States hasn’t gotten here (or to any of the places I’ve seen in Europe, honestly), but I can’t for the life of me figure out why: every five feet is some street food that is full of cholesterol and saturated fat, be it sausages, ice cream, or the local пекара (bakery) which offers nothing healthy whatsoever. Food is cheap and unhealthy; ditto the beer. How is everyone thin?? But I digress. The bill then came, and it was less than €57. Crazy. Three of us for dinner in Copenhagen was well over €100, and that was at a restaurant named “Puk.”
Cut to Monday. The Serbian Sniper picks me up at my apartment to go to Lake Ada and play basketball. For those of you that know me, I play basketball like an offensive linemen: I’m dirty, I use my elbows, and I have very little ball skill. I’m also not in shape to play regular USA basketball, much less Serbian basketball (here there is no “taking it back” – if you miss, you have to play defense right away). In what was undoubtedly the best play I made all day (which isn't saying much), I took this 60+ year old man off the dribble, turned around, and laid it up with my left hand. As I'm doing this, Djuro yells "you go American Fairytale!" Asshole. :) It was downhill from there. Then I went home and collapsed on the couch to Croatian Music Television. It’s not any better than it sounds, trust me. After watching Eurotrip ("Miami Wice, #1 new show!"), I was hoping I could catch some 'new' episodes of “Sliders” here in Serbia. No luck, though. I will say, though (completely unrelated, now that I’m in ‘revision’ mode), in Copenhagen and Stockholm I felt like a tourist. Here, I don't. It’s actually to the point where I feel embarrassed taking pictures just because nobody else is doing it, and it makes it pretty clear than I’m not from around here (as if the Buffalo Bills hat and magenta iPod Nano didn’t do the trick). I still feel like a foreigner - going grocery shopping when you don't know the language and have to point at everything and say "hvala" (“thank you”) is a trip - but generally I don’t feel like a tourist. It's a good feeling. I just wish I had a gym to go to. In Greece we played volleyball every day on the beach and ate one meal a day. In Scandinavia food was too damn expensive to eat often and I was probably up to ten miles a day on the city bikes by the time I left. Here? Well I'm getting the three squares a day and there are no bikes to be found. So much for getting myself into shape.
Speaking of getting into shape, chicken tetrazzini has got to be the least healthy thing in my repertoire. For anyone curious on how to make chicken tetrazzini in Europe, here are the conversions (what a pain in the ass):
1 stick of butter = 1/4 lb = 113 g
1 pint (whipping cream (“pavlaka”)) = 473 ml
2 cups (chicken broth) = 0.5 L
16 oz (pasta) = 454 g
1/2 cup (flour) = 120 ml
350 F = 177 C
Thank you, thank you, I know that was riveting for most of you. I’ll be here all week. Be sure to tip your waitress.
On Tuesday, Deki (haha, you can’t get away from it Dejan) picked me up with his sister Irena and we met Sanja at Kalemegdan (which is this nice area in Belgrade with a park and the big fortress). After the worst lemonade in the history of water-based liquids (yeah, you heard me), we walked back through the pedestrian zone where I was able to display some killer 3rd grade recorder skills. Mrs. Moriarty would be so proud. Thursday (I think), Deki picked me up again (at what point do I owe him cab fare?), and we met up with Sanja and Dragana for crepes. Delicioussssss. Then we apparently went down to Hotel Yugoslavija (I shit you not – and I had no idea about this until days afterward even), and met up with Kosta and Marija for drinks on the river while unsuccessfully looking for karaoke. It was about that time I tried to put in 600 RSD for the bill, and received 700 RSD change. New math. Friday was the trip to Novi Sad (the Thessaloniki of Serbia, if you will) for an incredible meal at Salaš 137 (this random farm out in the middle of nowhere - the fact that they say "it's nearly impossible to get lost" on their website is maddening), and a trip to Novi Sad’s fortress and main square. Saturday was the big bash at my place and, if you’ve seen the videos, there’s not much else I can add to that. As nervous as I was to be hosting a party in Belgrade, it was a smashing success. Of course, I don’t know half of what was said at the party, but who cares? People had a good time, I had a good time, and we’ve got enough photographic and video evidence to keep me out of Congress forever. Time now to head to Budapest for a few days before I deadhead back to Belgrade for the trip to Bosnia for white water rafting. Just when you think it can’t get any better…
Now it comes to meet your maker, Belgrade. Drumroll please!
Women (why is this category always first??): A+/A. Did they send their best to Greece to represent? Certainly. But walk around downtown Belgrade and see if it's really that much of a drop off. Some of the younger girls have the potential but wear trashy clothing. Aside from that, there's little you can say negatively in this category. Deki says the hottest girls in Europe are Serbian and Polish. Why am I not going to Poland after this??
Nightlife: B+. Didn't see enough of it to really judge, believe it or not. But the rivers (Sava, Danube) and the lake (Ada) are extremely impressive. Much more beautiful than you would expect. The only knock on it is that it seemed too quiet when I was down there. Apparently the natives leave in August to go on vacation. Didn't go to any clubs (which really is a blessing).
Food: A. Didn't expect this, certainly, but all the local fare was excellent. Whether it was a meal at Salaš 137 or just Serbian hors d’oeuvres, the food was excellent all around.
Beaches: C-. Disappointing. All this water, but no real beaches to speak of (that I saw, at least). Not that I went to Serbia - a landlocked country - for the beaches. But I figured since I rated beaches for every other country (not that you can compare to Greece's) I might as well throw it in. I'm sure there are beaches somewhere, I just didn't really see any on Ada or the two rivers.
Public transportation: C+. Didn't take it so it's tough to judge. I will say that the busses looked crowded as hell every time I saw one, and there's not much of an underground subway to speak of (but rather trolleys everywhere reminiscient of the Green Line in Boston, which is atrocious). Neither the bus nor the trolley has a problem cutting you off in traffic or running you over if you try to cross the street.
Infrastructure: B. Better than I expected. From the stories I was told, I expected to see half-blown up buildings everywhere. While I did see one or two, everything was more or less in tact. As I stated before, it certainly wasn't as pretty as Scandinavia (and can we stop with the graffiti already? who thinks that's a good idea??), but there are some hidden gems in the city, and not just Skadarlija.
People: A+. Totally biased, I know, but even this random Serb on the train offered me a sandwich for no reason whatsoever.
Overall: A. I was sad to leave. I will see everyone again for rafting, but still. If it wasn't 5000 miles away from home (let's say it was just 500) I might never leave.
As it stands now, here is the projected schedule:
July 22: NYC
July 23 – July 31: Paralia Katerini, Greece
August 1 – August 5: Stockholm, Sweden
August 5 – August 11: Copenhagen, Denmark
August 12: Budapest, Hungary
August 13 – August 24: Belgrade, Serbia
August 25 – August 28: Budapest, Hungary
August 29 – August 31: Tara, Bosnia (via Belgrade; for rafting)
September 1: Venice, Italy
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