Visiting Belgrade: Dice And Rides

“Life seems much longer and fuller on the road, stretching my mind in odd ways. I’m worried time spent sedentary in the future will flash away.” – Old Sean

Charismatic Coin Toss

While in Romania, I spent a considerable amount of time trying to find a way into Serbia. Buses visiting Belgrade were a nightmarishly expensive 50 Euros. And the normal train routes were effectively canceled, for “politkin’ reasons,” I’m told.

I was lucky to have a different route recommended to me. Private vans are willing to cross the border for fifteen Euros. The original quote I was given was ten Euros, but the price has steadily hiked up, since these gentlemen have a monopoly on this jaunt.

I nearly wasn’t allowed on the shuttle. Expecting a ten Euro charge, I only managed to get that amount from the bank (as Romania uses leu or RON). There was an awkward period where I tried to hand over roughly five-Euros-worth of Bulgarian coins I had leftover from my time in Varna.

The driver, finally convinced I didn’t have further coinage, grudgingly accepted the amount and allowed me to pile into the vehicle.

Lucky in most things, I settled into my seat and watched the countryside roll by.

Wind Down Arrival

A few hours later, I arrived in Belgrade. My company in China had effectively decided that I was finished with my work route, with Belgrade being a bonus stop. With the route done, all that was left was for me to start editing and finalizing documents.

This meant that visiting Belgrade was an optional rush job. I would be passing through on my way to Macedonia, where I could live cheaply while finishing the finer points of the project.

So when I rolled into Belgrade, I began my daily joy-process by eating dinner. I found a small shop which served bacon-wrapped chicken-sausage sandwiches, garnished with diced onions, crisp lettuce and vividly red tomato slices.

The sandwich was as long as my arm. I felt my heartburn inform me that I was a mere three bites away from ending my trip and life early via overdose of delicious.

It’s a good way to arrive in a city.

Once I got to my hostel, I promptly collapsed into my low bunk-bed, chatting with a semi-retired Indian gentleman. He was travelling the world per his daughter’s advice and already had a fair number of new stories racked up.

When we finally tired of talking, I drifted to sleep, hoping to snooze my hefty meal off.

Impressions of Belgrade

My overly-full rest somewhat worked.

I woke up early the next day and decided to check out Republic Square.

Of all the things I’ve seen on this trip, Republic Square has to be the most stunningly wondrous visual combination of human resources on the face of Earth.

Perhaps that’s what I would way, if I were a fan of chain-link fences, black tarp screens and rusted construction equipment.

With Republic Square marked off as a bust, I wandered off to see other parts of Belgrade. Despite the lackluster start, the city is still rather interesting to walk around.

Most of the men (especially the younger ones) all have hard, clean jawlines, low brows and generally wear their hair quite short. The style made a “stylish boot-camp” impression on me.

The women around the city are more commonly seen with much longer hair and purses just large enough to be considered a phone case.

The buildings of Belgrade are all rough and weathered. Many are deeply reminiscent of communist-blockiness, with a certain number of copper-green domes occasionally cropping up over the skyline.

Parks here are a little scarce compared to some other areas I’m accustomed to in Europe, but still welcome sights when they do appear.

Landmarks While Visiting Belgrade

I decided to hike along Kneza Mihaila, which is a beautiful street. Surprisingly, the route is rife with a rather compelling number of children musicians, which made me feel slightly guilty about hoarding my remaining change.

Guilt shuffling slightly in my stomach, I continued down the road, visiting Belgrade Fortress.

Belgrade Fortress is definitely worth a glance.  Out front (I’m not sure if it’s a permanent attraction) is a Dino-Park with roaring animatronic Thunder Lizards. 

Heading into the first wall of the fortress reveals another deadly aspect of Earth-history; lines upon lines of military tank and motors angling their barrels of imaginary payloads back towards downtown Belgrade. 

The Fortress interior is more of a park overlooking the crux of the Danube and Sava rivers. 

Also nearby is the astonishing Ruzica Church, which has several gorgeous chandeliers constructed of sabers, bullets and other weaponry.  I’m sure this can be considered quaintly ironic or wryly accurate depending on one’s religious/historic relationship with Christianity at the base of a fortress ruin. Regardless, the chandeliers and church decorations were crafted by soldiers who remained to clean up a battlefield.

Heavy Hiker

After all of this, I decided exhaustion had caught up with me once more. After traveling swiftly for so long, I’m experiencing burnout at increasingly shorter intervals.

I decided to call it a night by sampling some street pizza. I also ate an odd chocolate cake-bean ball known as Maz and an ice-cream coffee paired with a chocolate soufflé that was granted to me “on-the-house” due to the restaurant’s broken credit-card reader. 

That free coffee kept me awake long enough to hike out to the train station, the new Belgrade Center, Prokop. Here, I purchased an ill-fated night train for the following day to Skopje.

I finally returned to my hostel for a semi-early night, certain I would be refreshed enough to complete my little tour of Belgrade tomorrow.

I was wrong.

Fateful Torrents

I was wrong because the amount of water falling from the sky transformed my treks into trudges and my bramble hair into a freezing sponge-hat. 

Sodden, I got myself lunch and committed myself to paperwork for the rest of the day.  I wouldn’t be visiting Belgrade for another night. Instead, I was due to catch my train heading to Macedonia.

Finally, my hour came. I tucked away my laptop and left for the far-flung Topcider departure station. I was quickly told an odd tally of unfortunate facts.

Firstly, while my train ticket was in perfect working order my reservation ticket for the bed I had booked on the train had been accidentally reserved for the previous day. So I had bought a boarding ticket for today and a compartment for tomorrow.

After a two hour conversation, the staff managed to get it through my damnably thick skull that, no, they weren’t able to get my bed back and hell no, they weren’t going to reimburse me. 

During the exchange, I managed to get it through their thick heads that, no, I wasn’t going to drop another 30 euros for a new-last-minute bed-ticket.

Everyone ended up in a surly compromise where I ended up sitting upright in a “technically-free” compartment seat with no heater and a whole lot of cold.

As the clouds above dimmed and night truly fell, I was huddled up alone in a compartment, listening to the clatter of a train as freezing air continuously rushed in. Sleep eluded me for long hours, as I owlishly blinked out the window.

When I finally began to drift off, my compartment door suddenly opened. A large Urdu-speaking family with eleven people piled in, including several children. At some point during their excited chatter, I saw a hand-drum emerge, and quietly accepted that there would be no sleep this night.

I followed my sleepless whims. For fifteen minutes I pouted, before breaking down and sharing a large bag of pretzels with everyone. Each family member knew about five English words apiece, and they shouted them at me joyfully. I was offered a chance to play their hand drum as they sang, promptly butchering the tempo. As the night stretched long, I taught the children the only party trick I knew and accepted the dry snacks I was offered.

Suspicious Journeys

Addled by Urdu conversations, off-beat drums and mounting exhaustion, my journey from Belgrade to Skopje would prove bizarre. 

If I hadn’t been traveling with a hoard of other people bound for the same destination as me, I’d have severe reservations. 

For one thing, there were five ticket checks during the whole trip, followed by a security check by two dark-uniformed men.  Each time I was questioned closely, and I was asked to provide several forms of ID. The treatment wasn’t unique, as I saw other compartments being submitted to the same procedure.

Next, I didn’t even remain on the train for the entire time. Long before I reached the Skopje border, the train halted at an obscure town.

All passengers were required to disembark, gather their considerable luggage and walk out of the train station. From here, we crossed two parking lots and boarded a puttering bus with a blissful heater running.

Yet, this too wasn’t our final vehicle.

This two hour ride, broken slightly by passport checks at the boarder, culminated with a swift trip down a dark, bumpy road. As the road condition deteriorated and tree branches began slapping the bus windows with a rising tempo, the moon appeared above, revealing that we were in the middle of utter nowhere.

I felt my heart grow grim as the bus ground to a halt on an empty backroad in the deep forest. Sighing, I stuffed a spare phone in my shoe and emergency money into my undershirt passport holder. This felt like skullduggery, and I’d survived it before in life.

The crowd on the bus was ordered to disembark again. In the pitch of night, the driver passed out our luggage and directed us across a 100 meter dry-grass field in the moonlight.

We crunched over the field, walked through two rusty gates and waited briefly as our driver caught up. Then, belly jiggling, he led us over another field, roughly 200 meters of gravel.

Quiet abruptly, we rounded the corner of the woods, and our driver shepherded us onto a suddenly-revealed train platform. I nearly groaned with relief as we were directed to board. And I did sigh, releasing a small bundle of anxiety, when I saw the digital schedule. Indeed, this was a train heading to Skopje.

If I was to be mugged or murdered in the near future, I would be a surprise once more.

Fruitful Arrivals

Despite the odd journey, I did eventually arrive in Skopje. It took another five hours and two more ticket checks, but I soon found my feet on a concrete platform after exiting the last train.

For a few minutes, I simply stood blinking. From my hostel in Belgrade to this grungy platform, I had dealt with nearly fourteen hours of travel, interspaced with nearly ten ticket checks, three vehicles, a night-hike, a misplaced reservation and a train-compartment party.

I did what came naturally. I hefted my backpack, stocked up on water and snacks, found my hostel and collapsed.

Before laying down, I specifically didn’t set an alarm. My work-tasks for travel are done, at least for this arc. I’ll awaken whenever and see if Skopje is worth exploring.

But for the remainder of my life, I’ll have one tidbit of odd, potently specific wisdom.

I’ll never recommend the night train to Skopje.

Best regards and excellent trails,

Old Sean

Written September 24th 2018

Read more about visiting Belgrade and seeing the world by visiting Leftfade Trails Destination Info.

Affiliate Disclosure: Leftfade Trails contains affiliate links, so using services or products through these links supports the website, at no extra cost to the user. All links are to tested services and products designed to aid travelers on their journeys. Some links specifically connect to Amazon. As an Amazon Associate this website earns from qualifying purchases.