Wednesday, July 07, 2004

 
In response to a few queries I've had this week, I'd like to add something to the last post. While it seems like I was unimpressed with Belgrade, the truth is that I had a good time and found it interesting. The fact that my last entry sounded less than excited had to do with two things:

a) Belgrade, as such, is interesting to me for reasons other than the beauty and interest of the city itself. One factor that makes it interesting is the people there, and another has to do with where I work.

b) I'm in a bad mood. Right now, I'm trying my level best not to hate the entire universe, much less Belgrade. So, Belgrade, it's not you, it's me.
posted by All at 4:57:00 p.m.

Tuesday, July 06, 2004

 
So... Belgrade.

Day 1 in Belgrade didn't really start until around 9pm, when we finally arrived. Our flight was supposed to have been at 10:30am, but due to Dutch weather, and some creative country hopping by our airline, it took us in the range of 12 hours to get there. We could have flown to Africa in a similar amount of time, I think.

We arrived in the Belgrade airport, and I'm sure that someone who was more alert could give you a better description of it. The only thing I remember thinking was, "Well, it sure looks like a former communist airport." We were picked up by Mike, a friend of Joanne's who is currently working for the UN in Belgrade, and so gets to drive around in a UN vehicle, which is a black, truck-sized SUV with diplomatic plates. I guess the UN's not really into being unobtrusive, as this SUV was the biggest thing on the road, barring trucks, and as I was later to find out, farm machinery.

We drove through the dark streets of Belgrade to the neighbourhood where we were staying, Dedinje, which is pretty much the swankest part of town. I thought it looked a bit like the Hollywood Hills where I stayed in LA, what with it being hilly, with really nice houses abutting onto really crummy narrow roads. Kara, Joanne's 12-year-old daughter, thought I was retarded.

It turned out we were staying in what looked like a dollhouse in someone's back garden. We were there for all of three minutes before hunger drove us out in search of food. We headed in the direction of the city centre, towards a place called the Sports Cafe. I'm not sure if a place like this is a novelty in Belgrade, but it's your basic North American sports bar, if a tiny bit swankier. We ordered burgers and settled in to watch the end of the England-Portugal game. I felt a bit like I was in a Terry Gilliam-imagined future, since I was surrounded by drunken Englishmen, and there were a lot of tvs around. If something had blown up, I would have immediately thought of 'Brazil.'

Thankfully, nothing did, and one salty burger and one English defeat at the hands of the Portugese goalie later, we went back to the dollhouse and off to bed.

The next day we woke up pretty early.

No. I lie. We slept in. But when we did wake up, we went off to a bakery to try tasty local treats as breakfast. Croissants in hand, we went off to visit the ICTY offices in Belgrade, which were around the corner from where we were staying. We met all the nice people there, and admired their barbeque pit. Which was fun, sure, but then we left and went shopping. The rest of the day was spent wandering the streets of Belgrade (don't ask me to tell you which ones... not only did we not have a map, but the street signs, inasmuch as there were street signs, were in Cyrillic). There's a pedestrian shopping street which we wandered until the end, browsing in some stores, eventually stopping to have a tasty calzone. The end of this street turned into a park which turned out to be Kalemegdan.

Things I didn't know about Kalemegdan while I was there:

"The name Kalemegdan applies only to the spacious plateau surrounding the Fortress, which was turned into a park in the eighties of the XIX century. When the Fortress served as Belgrade's chief military stronghold, the plateau was a place from which the enemy was kept under observation and where preparations were made for combats. Its name derives from the Turkish words kale (field) and megdan (battle)."

Things I did know:

It was fucking hot. Actual residents of Belgrade were sitting on shady benches, napping, reading or being social, but the three of us, like the good tourists that we were, kept walking. There's a pretty nice view of the rivers from up there (hence why they chose it as a good spot for a fortress, I guess), and the park itself is very pretty, with winding (uphill) paths to walk to the thick stone fortifications. There's a pit around the walls, which we guessed was formerly the moat. I'm not sure if this is correct, but it's now being used to house tennis courts, miniature basketball courts, and, in some spots, to display cannons.

We stopped at one point to bribe Kara into continuing by buying her popcorn. Then we continued on to the edge of the park and came out into a part of town that looked completely unfamiliar. Given that this was really our first day there, nobody panicked, and we wandered into a nearby Serbian Orthodox church. Signage was again in Cyrillic (except for the sign that said "No cameras, no mobile phones, and please dress appropriately"), so I have no idea which church this was. In any event, it was on the smaller side, had no chairs and a lot of gold decoration and icons. If anyone knows which church this is, feel free to enlighten me.

We kept going after this, with me thanking my lucky stars that Joanne had a decent sense of direction, as I had no idea where we were anymore. In any event, after a bit more wandering, we ended up in a market, that seemed to be half dedicated to food and half to typical flea market junk. Kara was somewhat reluctant to go in (I think she misses malls), but being older and bigger, we overrode her objections and soldiered on.

What can you say about this market? Having seen markets like this in a few cities, I can say that it was pretty typical. The one in Nice was a lot swankier, and the one in Split was a lot smaller, but it was basically the same idea. The stalls were permanent structures, and since we got there late in the day, the produce was pretty well all gone. But yeah, picture a lot of people with loud voices yelling at me to try their radishes, which were better than all other radishes and you get the idea. The flea market half, where we ended up, was a bit quieter. But it turned out that the 12-year-old was right, and there was nothing to buy, so we came out the other side, and continued on our way. Again, I was completely lost, but after a few detours, Joanne got us back to the pedestrian street where we started our day.

Actually, as an aside, I'll describe one of our detours. Joanne and I were windowshopping as we went along, and finally decided to actually go into a store, lured in by the promise of air conditioning. I decided to try something on, and was unceremoniously shoved into a changeroom by what seemed by like 8 salesladies. It was a bit like going shopping with my mom, which basically meant that these women made me try on mountains and mountains of clothing, none of which fit me (they looked at me and decided my size, which was not even close), and none of which I particularly liked. I don't know if this is typical of Belgrade customer service, but man, it was scary. Not even air conditioning could make me stay in there.

So we left, and discovered that we were very close to a cafe called Plato, which had all the prerequisites: big comfy chairs, coffee, and internet access. We sat there for about an hour, having coffee and waiting for Mike, when all of a sudden, the wind picked up, the enormous table umbrellas went flying, and monsoon season officially began. We ran for the car and drove home, but not before getting soaked.

We went for dinner that night at a Serbian restaurant whose name escapes me, where I ate cevapcici for the first time, which is ground meat shaped like a hot dog. It was delicious, but ten cevaps was a bit much for me, and I ended up shaming myself before the 12-year-old by not finishing my meal.

Later on, after depositing the 12-year-old at home, Mike took us down to the river, where there are a bunch of clubs/cafes on boats. We went to a favourite hangout of his, called Blaywatch, which I was to find out later was the sort of place single guys go to find young available women. This is what I was told by Tanja anyway, who I hung out with the next day, and who is from Belgrade, as opposed to Mike, who is from Cornwall. When I asked Tanja if she'd been to Blaywatch, her response was: "I'm not that kind of girl."

Myself, I thought the place was a bit on the cheesy side, but then I'm not a single guy looking for a young available woman. Still, someone else was buying drinks, so it's all good.

Anyway, then we went back to the dollhouse and went to bed. More later.
posted by All at 8:28:00 a.m.

Sunday, July 04, 2004

 
My head feels like it's in a vise, I'm mildly embarassed though I'm not sure for what, I have raccoon eyes that seem to cover half my face, and my hair looks like pigeons were nesting in it.

This can only be tequila.

Fun? Yes. Spontaneous? I sure hope not because I can't remember. Romantic? Well, tequila shots aren't really conducive to candlelight, roses and poetry.

The psychics are 33% correct this weekend.
posted by All at 3:19:00 p.m.

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