Friday, 10 February 2017 to Thursday, 16 February 2017
Adri went downstairs and up the road to get us a burek for breakfast, the long thin type. I prefer the long thin pastry variety to the flat round one; the latter can be rather oily, too oily for my liking and health, but of course it is delicious. Adri brought home a beef as well as a feta-like cheese burek, both were amazing.

You may remember I mentioned last week that Montenegro intends joining NATO and this morning I read that it may not be that clear-cut. As per this article, “Montenegro’s pro-Russian opposition and some NGOs say NATO membership of the country must be decided in a referendum, as society remains deeply divided over the issue… The groups want a referendum held on March 24, marking the day in 1999 when NATO began bombing Serbia and Montenegro”. Hmm, fortunately we would have left Montenegro by that date.

Adri went shopping while I continued to prepare the blog post for publication. She came back with a roast chicken, potatoes, beetroot, onions, pumpkin, apples and what not. She was just about to start preparing supper when there was a knock on her phone; it was Mimi that came over for a chat. It was over an hour later that they said their goodbyes and Adri started supper. I was past hungry already so poured myself a Turborg in the meantime to keep up my spirits.

The tin of Tuborg that Adri bought me earlier was warm. “There were no cold ones in the supermarket” she said, an explanation I looked upon with suspicion. Be as it may, I placed that warm puppy in the freezer compartment and by the time I opened it an hour later I thought it may have cooled down just a tad. But this boy was almost all frozen up, what a bummer, not sure how that was possible. Anyways, I let it warm up for a while until it was ready to be half poured half squeezed out of the tin. It went down well, very well.

After supper we started watching a series called The Crown, at the recommendation of Mimi, which is about the early reign of Queen Elizabeth II of the UK. Now let me state upfront, I am not a royalist, I just don’t get it. Rather call me an equalitarian or a proponent of egalitarianism, or any thought that favours equality for all people. Who are we to look down on, or even up to anyone, were we not all created equal? Casting people in different classes is such an antiquated notion and there is no place for it in today’s society. Let me repeat, I am not a royalist. But, be as it may, the series seems to be pretty good.

Saturday morning we got ourselves a burek on the go while walking the 2 km to the Nikola Tesla Museum. Nikola Tesla was a Serbian-American inventor, electrical engineer, mechanical engineer, physicist, and futurist who is best known for his contributions to the design of the modern alternating current (AC) electricity supply system and the induction motor. He was a prolific inventor with some 300 patents obtained worldwide.

Now Serbia claims that Tesla is Serbian, but more correctly, he was born in 1856 into a Serb family who lived in the village of Smiljan which was at the time part of the Austrian Empire. Smiljan later became part of Yugoslavia and in turn part of Croatia when it was established in 1991. In 1870 Tesla moved to Karlovac, in 1873 he returned to Smiljan and in 1874 he moved to Tomingaj, all of these towns are located in the current Croatia. So, for all intents and purposes, I guess, Tesla was really Croatian, but of Serb descent. He subsequently lived, studied and worked in a number of European countries and in 1884 he immigrated to the US.

We arrived at the museum just after 14:00 and were advised to return at 15:00 for the guided tour when one can witness some experiments being performed. We walked around the hood, had a cappuccino at the Polet Restaurant again and at 15:00 we paid up out 500 dinar per person. The guided tour starts off with a documentary on Tesla’s life which was rather interesting. The tour guide, with his perfect English, then moved into the experiment room where he pulled a few magic electricity tricks on the rather large group of about 50 people. It was all great fun.

After the experiments everyone was free to roam around the rest of the Nikola Tesla Museum. I had no specific expectations but somehow I expected a tad more having read that the museum “… holds more than 160,000 original documents, over 2,000 books and journals, over 1,200 historical technical exhibits, over 1,500 photographs and photo plates of original, technical objects, instruments and apparatus, and over 1,000 plans and drawings” With this background I expected to see more than a few small rooms of exhibits so I assumed the rest of Tesla’s stuff must be in storage somewhere. But, be as it may, it was still an electric experience.

Having now been to the museum I was naturally reminded of the song called Tesla Girls by that wonderfully talented group OMD (Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark) who “reference electricity a lot in their lyrics, so it makes sense that Nikola Tesla would end up in one of their tracks”. They have another electricity inspired song simply titled Electricity, you can listen to both below.

We left home again at 20:00 – it was freezing outside – to go to the Dom Omladene youth centre. A few weeks back we bought tickets to The Doors Alive, a Doors tribute band from the UK. Of course we would have preferred the see The Doors live rather than the “Alive” variety, but it was not circa 1971, Jim Morrison really messed this one up for us.

Jim died in Paris of a suspected drug overdose although the official cause of death was listed as heart failure although no autopsy was performed as it was not required by French law. He was found in a Paris apartment bathtub (at address 17–19 rue Beautreillis) by his then girlfriend Pamela Courson. It was only a few years back that Marianne Faithfull claimed that her drug dealing ex-boyfriend Jean de Breiteuil “killed” Jim Morrison after accidentally supplying him heroin that was too strong. Breiteuil himself died of an overdose not long afterwards, in 1971.

Anyways, the show was great, they played all the hits and then some, and for 90 minutes we were riveted to the performance playing out in front of us. Dom Omladene is not huge but was nevertheless packed with not surprisingly an older than usual audience, we were testament to that. And would you believe, right next to me was a Don lookalike, complete with black leather cap… I’m hoping that we will see Don and Sam later on in the year in Madeira. Watch out for that leather cap in the video below.

There was standing room only so we stood for the entire 90 minutes, it felt like my knees were pushing through my heels at the 60 minute mark, by The End, their last song, my bum bones came to rest on those same heels. Even so, the show was great. Below are a few snippets from the show.

Afterwards Adri and I opted to share an ice cold Zaječarsko beer while waiting for the crowd to disperse. Outside it was icy cold, much more so than the beer we had just had; a frosty wind was tugging at our tailcoats as we walked home. It was late so again we got food from our local 24/7 takeaway shop which we had with a shot of Rajika while watching another episode of The Crown. It was 03:00 when we switched off the lights.

 

Adri brought breakfast back after her Sunday stroll which consisted of a mushroom burek and a large chocolaty croissant type pastry. Not sure whether all there delicacies are so readily available in Montenegro, we will surely miss it.

The highest temperature today was +1°C but the icy wind made it feel like -4°C, according to the weather report, and it did. Mid evening was -3°C but the icy wind made it feel like -11°C, and it did. We’re really starting to look forward to the warmer weather in Montenegro. Today it was a balmy +14°C in Budva with a low of +3°C, all positive.

Fake news has been all the rage since Trump started running for president and it has just gotten worse, many people cannot tell the difference, and how should they? This morning I noticed an article where Apple’s CEO Tim Cook is quoted as saying that fake news is “killing people’s minds” and that “firms such as his own needed to create tools that would help stem the spread of falsehoods, without impinging on freedom of speech.” Not sure how possible this will be but I sure do hope they come up with an innovative solution, like quickly you know.

When contemplating our move from Thailand, countries Serbia, Montenegro and Turkey were in the final mix. We decided to give Turkey a miss this time around as we have been there a few times before but also due to the government’s clampdown on its citizens after the attempted coup last year. We do so love Turkey, maybe next time. Anyway, this morning I read an article titled “’I feel like I have been buried alive’: families live in fear and isolation as Erdoğan leads a witch-hunt”. This article reports a real life example of how easily innocent people’s lives can spiral hopelessly out of control in such a crackdown, leaving people utterly helpless.

You may remember that we booked a table at the Little Bay Restaurant a week ago, so it was around 20:00 that we entered our favourite Belgrade establishment. Because we booked beforehand we had a choice of table at the time and chose to sit upstairs in one of the boxes of the makeshift mini opera house. It is wonderful and private up there but if you intend watching the live music below it is probably best to sit downstairs. It was not long before Marija Lazic, the same lass we saw previously, started playing some lovely jazzy tunes. This girl is great, take a listen below.

We were served by the same waitress as the first time we visited and what a lovely lass she is. I had the grilled sirloin steak which was great, Adri had the Pithivier of duck con­fit which was past perfect. One simply cannot go wrong with this crowd. Even though we were filled to the gills we decided to share a Chocolate fondant with ice cream and white chocolate mousse, just marvellous. Of course I had a Grimbergen beer again, Adri had a half litre carafe of red wine which she needed help with after I emptied my goblet.

By the time Marija started her third and final session for the evening we were on our way… we’re gonna miss this place. I remembered the first night we were there we inadvertently forgot to leave our waitress a tip. To rectify things tonight, we left her in excess of a double tip, I’m sure she would be pleased, her service was excellent.

We took a walk into town Monday morning and while Adri was shopping for stuff I took a walk around that neighbourhood. On my travels I passed by a pub with the following motto on their blackboard outside which I thought was quite neat, “Money can’t buy happiness but it can buy beer…and that’s kind of the same thing”.

Adri and I met up again and took a walk to the Danube River and I am happy to report that it was flowing, the frozen river of a week or two ago was now something of the past, a wonderful sight.

Walking along the promenade was great but most of the boat restaurants on the river were still closed for winter, pity. We did find one though that was open and abuzz, it was called Viva, which we entered via a long gangplank. Adri had a hot chocolate; I had a Hoegaarden, this time in a proper Hoegaarden hexagonal shaped and branded glass nogal (mind you). The view was wonderful and I could imagine sitting outside during warm summer days having beer upon beer, gazing out over the river watching the boats go by.

It was almost dark when we left; the walk up the Danube was crap-cold. When we moved inland it got slightly better… by the time we got home it was deep dark. On the way back we stopped off at the Univerexport Supermarket for some veggies to go with our leftover roast chicken which was to serve as supper.

While picking stuff off the racks I saw a mouldy Snickers chocolate bar, it had a green skin, I kid you not, and I wondered what a peppermint choclate with peanuts would taste like. From the face that I pulled at the thought of it I assumed that it would be rather gross. I picked one up and would you believe, it has nothing to do with mint but it rather swaps out the peanuts for hazelnuts, a limited edition. Of course it landed in our basket, how could I pass up on this limited opportunity?

Tuesday was Valentine’s and we were planning on taking a bus trip to nowhere and everywhere again today, like we did a while back using our BusPlus card, but the cold stopped us in our tyre tracks. It was just past lunchtime and after breakfast that we finally braved the cold to go to the flower shop up the road for a Valentine’s rose for Adri.

We then walked up to the Knez Mihailova pedestrian zone where we got Adri a couple of items she had been eyeing for a while. Then, on the spur if the moment, we decided to walk to the Museum of Contemporary Art on new Belgrade’s side of the river, even though we knew it was closed for renovations. From the outside the museum truly looked like it was in total disrepair, 70s style, but the part that had already been rebuilt looked fantastic. This will surely be a magic place to visit once renovations are done.

The museum is located close to the Sava River and we tried very hard to find an open pub/restaurant along the river but were unsuccessful.

Walking back across the bridge in search of beer there was a loud boom. We were exposed, there was nowhere to run for cover, so we just stood… waiting for the best, or the worst. Then there was another boom… and yet another, each time my body jerked, not by the impact but by the groot skrik op my lyf (big fright in my body).

By the sixth boom I should have been used to it but wasn’t, and by the 10^th I lost count, and consciousness. Was the UN back in town? Left standing unscathed we realized that it was less ominous, it was the firing of a cannon from the Belgrade Fortress, probably had something to do with the festivities of tomorrow, it being Serbia’s National Day.

Reaching old Belgrade we found a lovely little restaurant where we whiled away two hours over a dark beer… until it was dark. It was a Zaječarsko beer, same brand as we had on Saturday but the dark variety, the taste reminiscent of a Guinness, with the hallmark of the Extra Stout version, even though it was tastier than that; it also had a tinge of sweetness in it. Man, that was good.

We were so enjoying the ambience that we ordered a second and I was contemplating a third but we had to move, we had a Valentine’s dinner booked at the Dva Jelena (Two Dear) Restaurant on Skadarlija Street.

The restaurant is a rather fancy affair, in the same class as the Little Bay Restaurant, relaxed and not hoity toity at all; fine dining without the airs and graces. Our attendant was the perfect older generation waiter, immaculately dressed and the service professional down to every detail. In Europe, being a waiter is mostly a full time profession, not the usual part time dalliance of students as is often the case in SA, so these guys are really great. The food was superb and ample and I kept reminding myself to hou matigheid voor oë (keep moderation in sight) but alas, that was an exercise in futility.

Today was 15 February and my birthday, which I share with Serbia and its people who celebrate their National Day today, which is also known as Statehood Day and Sovereignty Day. This two-day holiday commemorates the 1804 uprising that grew into the Serbian Revolution after centuries of Ottoman rule. February 15 was also the date the first Serbian constitution was adopted back in 1835.

So, with the nation of Serbia joining me in my birthday celebrations today I had no qualms about getting up early, that’s relatively speaking of course.

Due to the bus trip to nowhere and everywhere yesterday being called off due to the cold weather, today was really our last chance to do this trip as tomorrow we would be heading off to Montenegro.

It was after breakfast and after 11:00 that we ordered our unlimited 24 hour BusPlus ticket at the kiosk near the bus stop. We were under the impression that one can charge up the card we bought last time but apparently not, you have to get a new card.

We did not know where we wanted to go but had an inkling of the general direction, which was to head east. We climbed aboard the first bus heading in that direction and rode until we were told to leave the bus; it was not going any further. We were now in the most eastern part of the city, a mostly residential area, which looked rather lovely to live in with plenty of seemingly comfortable apartment blocks dotting the area.

We got on the next bus we encountered going west and, riding along not really knowing where the bus was heading, Adri identified Belgrade’s New Cemetery which she had wanted to visit. We scrambled off the bus at the next stop and wandered around the perfectly manicured cemetery with many gravestones contained in its own little fenced in area. It seems like one such graveyard real estate is used for an entire family. The part of the complex that Adri really wanted to see was the military graveyard with the remains of soldiers from Balkan Wars and World Wars. Always sad to see, so many lives lost… and for what?

We hopped onto the next bus which came to an abrupt end two stops further, that one didn’t work out as expected, but we took the opportunity to walk around the neighbourhood and then decided to try a tram for our next transfer.

This tram was going places, it continued on and on and eventually crossed the Sava River into new Belgrade, then headed southwest along the Sava where it finally came to its last stop, not too far actually from the airport. We disembarked; we had to, and took a stroll to and along the Sava River. As it was a public holiday there were many couples and families walking up and down the broad promenade, enjoying the coldish sun that was out at 11°C. We found a River Restaurant called Andrea Mia where we made ourselves comfortable with a cold beer, in the cold, right on the river. I had a big Tuborg, and then another. It was freezing out there on the river but we would not have it any other way.

We took another tram in the opposite direction and headed back to old Belgrade and got off just before it started headed south, we had other plans. A few blocks from there we got to our next stop, the only planned stop for the day, the Hotel Moskva which is well known for their afternoon tea and cake. There are two levels to this rather large cafe area of the hotel where we found soothing background piano music mixed in with the gentle hum of conversations.

The Moskova Hotel’s website describes the cafe as “Our iconic café has been the meeting place of eccentric artists, enthralled poets and proud intellectuals since 1908. You will be sitting in the Belgrade’s front row and enjoying a drink which is not only an exquisite experience in itself, but also a small journey right into old, irresistibly charming Belgrade. The Nobel Prize winner Ivo Andrić even had his own table here.  For a business meeting or a private gathering, just say ‘See you at Moskva’. And everybody will know.”

We struggled to find an open table amongst the ample there so went to the upper level where we found one right by the window from where we could watch people outside going about their holiday. We had cappuccinos and a slice of their special Moskva cake, simply scrumptious.

What a truly wonderful birthday it was!

The alarm went off at 05:30 on Thursday, it was time to travel, Montenegro was finally in sight. After packing the last few things the doorbell rang, it was a friend of Miha that came to pick up the keys and arrange a taxi for us to the bus station, it was 07:30. By 08:00 we were ready for the bus, but it was not ready for us, it would be by its scheduled departure time at 08:30.

B

ecause we booked our tickets to Budva a week ago we were probably the first to do so and thus got the best seats in the house, right in the front, diagonally behind from the driver. It was like driving without being the driver, pretty cool.

The bus journey was scheduled for 11 hours; I was not looking forward to it. We could have flown or taken the train, but then we would not have experienced the Serbian countryside and the little country towns, something I was really looking forward to. We had barely left Belgrade behind when Adri closed her eyes, and they remained closed for a large portion of the trip. How lucky she was, sleep never came to me.

Just before departure, this very old man got onto the bus smelling like a rakija distillery, mind you, he looked like one as well. He flopped down into the seat across the aisle from us, smiling and wanting to make small talk but quickly realized that I don’t yet speak Rakija. We had left Belgrade behind – the bus was just getting comfortable on the highway to Nis – when the old man opened his bag, pulled out a glass jar that previously housed pickles, now filled with rakija. He took a few large swigs from it and then offered the driver and co-driver a few swigs of their own. Thankfully they declined.

The co-driver had just finished his breakfast of burek and yogurt when the driver became hungry, but there was no time to waste, no time to stop. The bus slowed down somewhat and then, what looked like pancakes flipping themselves, the two exchanged positions in mid journey. The driver stood up and swiftly jumped to his right while the co-driver slipped underneath him and into the driver’s seat, so to speak. This happened in the blur of a split second, like a well oiled machine, perfected during many journeys together I assumed, or hoped. Oh, and I was hoping he really was the co-driver and not just a random ticket collector.

We passed through lovely little towns, a few larger ones, a city or two, all through black and white rolling hills. I am sure in summer these would be immensely picturesque with various shades of green to be seen all around.

The co-driver, now back in his ticket collecting position, seemed to not have had time to take a shower this morning, in fact, I fear he must have been very busy the last week or so. Every time he made a move there was a sweaty stench that clung to the air long after he had come to rest. It got better when he was not moving; it kept those gremlins with the bad breath firmly under his armpits and under control. Adri wrapped her scarf around her head in an attempt to cover her nose; I stopped breathing. It was a while later when he reached for his personal bag under the seat next to us and dug in deep. I was hoping he was digging for a deodorant stick… he was, and a few moments later sweet blossom smells permeated the air. I started breathing. Forty minutes later that deodorant raised the white flag, it pleaded no contest. I stopped breathing.

In one of the small towns, we passed by the cemetery when the old rajika fellow next to us made the sign of the cross, numerous in blurring succession. I was not sure whether it was for the dead, or his by now dead rakija. It was not long after this that we stopped in a town called Kraljevo where the old man and his empty rajika jar disembarked. We watched him climb aboard an old rickety bus to somewhere, probably for refill.

We then ventured into the mountains passing through wonderful little towsn, sometimes scruffy sometimes not, with many having the hallmarks of a ski resort of some sorts.

As we neared the border I was growing slightly restless, one never knows what may happen there, especially at a road border crossing. I need not have worried though. As we stopped at the Serbian border, an Immigration officer boarded the bus, collected everyone’s passports and left to process them. Twenty minutes later he handed the lot back to the co-driver who proceeded to call out the names and handed each their passport. There was no need to call out our names; we were the obvious owners of those green passports.

On the Montenegro side everything worked in a similar fashion, but things took a while longer, so people started getting off the bus to stretch their legs. We heard the bus driver mumble something about “problemo” and of course we imagined he was looking in our direction, real or perceived, I can’t say. We did not have a visa to enter Montenegro but we could use our US visa to gain entry, or so the fable goes. We were just hoping that the Immigration officials at the land border knew about this little arrangement. Anyway, we needn’t have worried, about 45 minutes later we were on our way, safely in Montenegro.

In Montenegro we passed though wonderful mountain scenery and this high up the mountains were still thick with snow. We passed through the Montenegro capital of Podgorica (pronounced Podgoricha) which looks like a lovely little city of 187 085 people, from what we could see as the bus moved through the dark. Montenegro is a small country of just 13 812 square km with a total population of 620 029.

The bus was supposed to arrive in Budva on the coast at 19:30; it was past 20:30 when we entered the bus station. It was a long ride but was surprisingly tolerable; we stopped many times along the way which broke the journey up, keeping it from being too arduous.

The apartment we booked was unexpectedly but conveniently situated only one block up from the bus station, so it was easy to reach on foot. Our landlord Milos (pronounced Milosh) was on holiday so his mother was at the apartment to meet and greet us. Milos’ English is rather good, his mother though had none. With hand gestures and such we managed to learn enough on how to operate the apartment, we’ll be okay for the next month.

Having eaten only snacks and nothing substantial all day we were not really hungry but had to eat something… substantial. We took a stroll down to the beach, some 800 metres away, and then along the promenade where there are a number of restaurants, although many of them are still closed for the offseason. It was getting late and we were rather tired so decided on takeaway gyros to have in our new home. No sooner had we had our supper and we were transported to a land, far far away.

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