Well, they don’t wear helmets when they ride a bike here!
The language is COMPLETELY incomprehensible - spoken and written (I mean: Cyrillic! Really?).
Now, I could be reasonably sure this was a Government building but the young man that arrived for work here at 10 to 7 (the following) morning explained it is the Ministry of Defence (and I had just taken a photo of it - argh!!!)
But we all know what THIS is!
On arrival, we had a completely MAD bus journey into the city from the Airport: My Friend (= MF) still can’t adjust to my propensity for taking public transport over taxi.
I had thought we could use Euros here (side by side with the local Serbian dinar) but a local in the bus queue suggested not so (for bus tickets anyway) so I dashed back into the airport terminal to quickly exchange 20 Euros cash and came out with armfuls of dirhams - reminding me of the old Italian lira back in the day! I waved notes at the bus driver who seemed more keen to be underway and he gestured to just get on, so we had (it turned out) a FREE 18 km (MF tells me as he was following the route on Google maps) bus trip into the city.
Very unappealing, tired-looking vistas, lots of stops, driver competent but on a mission, no-one seemed to be paying (maybe they all had a card? I was waiting for a bus inspector to get on and fine us for not having a ticket …), bumpy roads which became progressively more modern and wider as we got closer to the centre of the city, bike lane infrastructure also closer in (as I said, no helmets), across the attractive and wide waters of the confluence of the Danube and Sava Rivers to the terminating stop: Zeleni Venac Square.
So here we are in Belgrade: capital of Serbia, population a bit over 1.6 million. Mid-afternoon, two tired travelers peering into Google Maps on a busy intersection in the hot sun. We are directed up up and down steps and along cobble-stoned streets to our accommodation: my notes had said a 15-minute walk, but not the way we went … that bloody suitcase feels heavy as it clumps over the rough footpaths.
Still, our apartment is quite nice. Spacious. Great spot in the old town (stari grad), a bit touristy right where we are but we quickly (after a shower and fresh clothes!!) walk our way into the more genuine ‘hood as we search for a supermarket for breakfast supplies and despite some very brutalist architecture in parts (think ‘cement’ - lots of it), there are some more attractive buildings amidst avenues of linden trees and a really good ‘feel’ about the place - a bit like Fitzroy Melbourne.
The building that housed the First Danube Steamship Company in the 1920s is a combo of late Vienna Secession and Prague Cubism.
There are several nice-looking pubs/bistros/bars in this neck of the woods and we stop at one after getting our supermarket supplies (and trying to calculate exchange rates: 100 dinars is about $A1.40. Go figure).
Pastis is on a corner with tables spread outside on the sidewalk filled with enjoying the lovely late afternoon weather - it is warm.
We chat with a vey amiable chap: Marko (and his dog) who has lived and worked overseas for some time, including in the US and NZ. He suggests a couple of nice (local) places to eat and rings through and books us in - so we are set for tonight and tomorrow!
We walk back to our apartment, drop off the groceries and half an hour later we are at Casa Nova, a corner gastropub ordering (with some very competent assistance from the young sommelier) a glass of nice Serbian cabernet and a pasta - very very yummy. Mine was a truffle dish and the smell of the truffles was magnificent when it hit the table.
We were fading very quickly; after all, it was 4 am home time. Walking back through our street, the restaurants were in full force with patrons being serenaded with local folk music by musicians playing cello, violin, etc - we had the best of it I reckon, enjoying the lovely mood from a distance.
It didn’t take us long to make a hot drink, turn the lights out and ‘hit the sack’.
Slept til 2 am (local time) while MF is still ‘out to it’.
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