Thoughts on Christian Promitzer et al's (Hidden) Minorities

Deriving its contents from papers and discussions presented at a workshop on the Alpine-Adriatic region in 2002, this book looks at language and ethnic minorities in the region that do not necessarily 'fit' into the usual narratives on nationalism. The analyses turn away from the assumption that these groups are rigid, homogenised, and eternal, and thus as unusual examples of nation building 'gone wrong', but delivers an alternative narrative by ethnographically portraying the development of these groups under the forces of nationalism, globalisation, modernisation, and viewing them through the prism of minority rights legislation in the region. Using the urban/rural dichotomy, public/private use of language, economic liberation etc, the book attempts to account for how these groups have evaded being 'recognised' by hiding or being hidden vis-a-vis the state or other recognised minorities, and failing to succumb to objective definitions of how their ethnic or linguistic kin ought to be constituted.

The theoretical framework that underpins the book emanates from older debates around ethnicity and nations, recalling the likes of Anthony Smith and his primordial/perennial case, listing categories that make up the ethnie; or Ernest Gellner's retort that nations are the result of modernity. The latter point is what the authors agree on, and thus they coalesce around Rogers Brubaker who writes that ethnicity and nationality 'are not things in the world, but perspectives on the world'. Hence, in terms of identity, they observe the relationship between subjective factors accounting for ones own identification to the community, in the 'self/other' guise, and the objective classifications of what one's identity is by external groups or institutions. Yet all the while, their observations reel back to how hidden minorities place their identity within the locality.

Sited in the region as it is, one of the points of departure are the placing of political borders. This involves analysis of groups that straddle or are contained within new state boundaries, and how this has impacted on the objective and subjective categories that define those linguistic or ethnic groups. An example would be in Duska Knezevic-Hocevar's chapter on the Kolpa River acting as a new political boundary encompassing the residents of the Kolpa Valley. Here, linguistic analysis of the past century lent itself to nationalist interpretation, not because it revolved around two written standards of Slovene and Croat, as this was a modern phenomenon, but those linguists wanted to portray the independent developments of the two languages that became the common local tongue. They explained the dialects away as sub standard local dialects of the two higher standards in an attempt to make the two languages ahistorical and thus 'natural' for them to be separated. This jarred with how the locals saw it because, for them, the locally spoken language was the same either side of the river. Alongside this analysis, Knezevic-Hocevar described the dynamics of national identity, and the paradox of locals not necessarily feeling strong national identities (as they had mixed families) yet using the language of national stereotypes in their day to day conversations.  

This placing of a border brought with it the assumption that the people on the ground on either side would automatically affiliate with their newly designated co-nationals. Yet this was not the case. And this moves on to another theme in the book revolving around the relation between a group being hidden or hiding and the application of minority rights legislation within the state they reside. Many factors are involved in this debate; the size of the group, does it have 'supposed' co-nationals in another state, does it have supposed 'co-nationals in the state they reside in and how do they relate to them vis-a-vis state legislation on minority rights, do they want to hide or would they prefer to carry ethnic/lingustic traits in private, the timing of when borders were put up, are they from the countryside or town, or have they migrated far as a group either recently or in the distant past. All these factors, and more, create dynamic situations that each group contends with in its relation with the state. One particular example is Klaus-Jurgen Hermanik's study of the Slovenes of Styria, which analyses the identity constructions that have occurred in the area over the last two centuries. What this chapter highlights is the difference between 'hiding' one's ethnic/linguistic traits, however one would classify them, and being 'hidden' from the view of the state and/or other ethnic/linguistic minorities. Overarching this, is how political borders have changed, how laws within the these altered states changed, but crucially, how the relations between the group and these institutions played out as part of borderland dynamics. In the Slovene's case, Germanisation, economic marginalisation, and political oppression led to the group 'hiding' themselves. Yet they were 'hidden', because some still had private use of Slovenian, but wouldn't think of using it in public. Thus, a signifier that would usually be viewed as an ethnic/linguistic unifier of minority groups, was weak and so did not lead to the group being conscious of their own collectivity, and so were not 'seen' in the eyes of the state.

What this book does best is to inform the reader of other perspectives on how ethnic and linguistic groups are formed in the Alpine-Adriatic region. The writers don't presume, from the outset, that these groups are ahistorical and perennial entities, but neither do they treat the information gathered from informants during ethnographic research with disrespect and scepticism. What they do, is develop theories on how identities are formed and explain how groups perceive themselves and their views on how the world views them. Parallel to this, they try and put it into historical contexts regarding state collapse and (re)formation, where borders fall, and globalisation. As stated before, identities aren't just the sum of a checklist of classificatory 'things' in the world that form a perfectly defined group. Instead, identities are fluid and continually changing phenomenon whose edges are blurry, and have to content with subjective and objective perceptions of what 'we' and 'they' are. This book ought to frustrate nationalists who believe that groups can be rigidly defined and exclusive, as this text shows that even in the era of the 'nation-state', some areas in the world fail to conform to the nationalist dream.

My Images of SEE – 18:10, Monday 22nd August

I walked to the market and bought a couple of magnets, 4 postcards and a key ring. I then went to the museum near the Latin bridge about the assassination of Franz Ferdinand. It was simply a large room, but covered the Austro-Hungarian occupation and then the incident itself. They actually had Gavrilo Princip’s clothes and gun used on the day. Very intriguing. I then walked alongside the river out of the old town, west. Again the sun was piercing.

I reached the Parliament building that was opposite the shopping mall I went to two days ago. I took a photo and continued to the museum. The first one I went to was closed today; So I continued to the next one. It was housed in a Soviet-esque building, with weeds growing in the cracks in the tiles and being shrouded in bushes and trees. I went in, paid, and bought a programme.

In the main atrium there was a board, 20 ft long that was a wall that Sarajevans were asked to put up info on loved ones last year. It was housed here now. There were news clippings, photo’s of loved ones murdered, photo’s of people houses – then and now. But two things specifically stuck out. One was a blue and white-stripped jumper. It had a dark stain on it. Below was a photo of a 7 year old boy, who was wearing the said jumper Luckily for me, the viewer, the photo was of a happy occasion. But it got to me, emotionally, that the boy was no more – and would have been a young adult now. The second was a series of photo’s. 4 A4 sheets, 2 photo’s on each. On it was written the town of Visegrad. It showed men cowering, near red plastic chairs in what must have been a former canteen, and in the process of being bludgeoned to death. From cowering, to blood soaked, to laying there motionless. I felt sick.

I went upstairs to a room split between 2 exhibitions. I continued with the siege first of all. There was the story of the siege, in government documents, photo’s, newspaper articles – and a range of exhibits such as uniforms, weapons, make shift cookers, food examples, and evidence of continued culture and arts. It was very emotional. I left a comment in the guestbook.  I then went around ‘the history of 1,000 years of Bosnia’ exhibit, that was more a written experience, but had a couple of exhibits. Back downstairs in a side room was a small explanation of the first written acknowledgment of the Banate of Bosnia. In another, there were several before and after shots around Sarajevo. I then left and went to the mall. I ate at Viapiano again. I wrote my final postcard to Kirsty and Sean then.

I walked back to the old town, with resources for the train ride from the mall. I found a post office near the Bezistan, and sent it off. Around the corner I saw a pub the other day, “Cheers”, so I popped in for a drink and read. After an hour I left for the hotel again.

My Images of SEE – 10:19, Monday 22nd August

Again, once it became dusk, I ventured out. I wanted to look for a proper restaurant i.e. one I could eat and drink at. It seems that you can only do one of the other here. So I wondered around the old town, walking past a lot of food places. I then walked to the more Habsburg part of town, then back into the old town. I picked a place called Hacienda. It was quiet, and I was the only person inside what seemed to be a mini nightclub. So I had cocktails and fajitas. To finish I had chocolate pancakes. It came to 35km, the most I had spent so far. By the time I left, the old town was quiet – as some shops hadn’t been open all day, so those closing now added to the quietness. I saw a bookshop with English titles on display. I then left and returned to the hotel.

It was a hot night, so slept uncomfortably. At 09:20 though I went down for breakfast and opted for cheese rather than Nutella for a change. I talked to the receptionist, thanking her for the tip regarding the view. I asked her where the Parliament building was, and she said it was by the museums & Holiday Inn – where I planned to go later. I then got changed to leave.

My Images of SEE – 15:19, Sunday 21st August

I asked the receptionist where the best place was to walk to, to get a view of the city. She said that a 20 minute walk up the hill near the hotel would get me that. So I walked to a corner shop for refreshments. I then walked north up a quiet road, past a Muslim cemetery. A lot of the dates of death ended between 1992 and 1995. I continued in the blazing heat up the very steep hill. I was wet with sweat by now. At the top of the hill, I took a sharp right where the road flattened. I walked 200 yards to the edge, near a tower’s base and saw the city. The hills of the long valley were steep and green: peppered with terracotta-roofed houses, becoming less in density as they went higher. The valley stretched out for a good few kilometers, until Soviet style blocks guarded the entrance to a wide plain (although still in a valley) where the airport is located. I then walked back down to the old town, the other side of the cemetery.

I walked around the old town, through it towards the river. I wandered along the river to the Latin bridge, and gazed upon the plaque that notified me of the site on which Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sofia were shot by Gavrilo Princip. I then walked into town, towards the Austro-Hungarian built area, then stopped at a café for lunch. It was just outside a mosque and, for 5 minutes during my stay there, a call to prayer sounded out. After an hour I left and walked through the old town looking for gifts, but gave up after a while and retreated back to the hotel.

My Images of SEE – 11:43, Sunday 21st August

After my rest, and once the flare had gone off to indicate the end of fasting, I went out. I intended to have a drink first, and located “City Pub” on the map. I walked down, through the busy old town, past the Bezistan and on to an adjacent street. In front of a posh hotel was City Pub. Quiet outside, I decided to venture in. Unsure whether to treat it like a normal pub, I sat down and decided I wanted a beer. But no-one came. So I walked halfway to the bar, when a guy came over and took my order. I had a nice pint of Sarajevsko Pivo (local lager) and watched football. Upon finishing, I ordered another. At this point a large crowd came in. A planned beer tour I presumed. I though I heard Engligh spoken by a couple of girls, I frequently looked over to read their lips, as the music was loud. I got my book out so as to indicate I was English.

I then moved on to my third pint and no contact was made, so I went over and asked if they were British. They said no. However, they were Australian and New Zealanders. So they said to join them. For an hour and a half I joined in their conversations. They were on a bus tour. So I had gossip from the bus, a history of where they were from and what they do, and I talked about my travels. By about 22:45 they were making plans to head off, so I paid my bill and left. It was great to talk to English speakers. They also have been living in London the last 6 years.

A lot of food placed were closed now, but I managed to get to one place. I asked for a menu, but the guy simply said “Meat or cheese”. I said meat. He brought over what was essentially 3 12 inch sausage rolls. And good they were too. I left and got the obligatory ice cream on the way back to the hotel.

I slept, a little disturbed by the 4 pints I consumed, until 09:25. I sprung up to get breakfast. Feeling tender, I decided to have it inside as the sun was out on form. I read the news on my phone too. I returned to my room and relaxed for an hour before getting ready to go out.

My Images of SEE – 18:14, Saturday 20th August

I had a fulfilling nights sleep last night, and woke up when my body needed to and not my alarm clock. I slowly got out of bed, then made my way downstairs to breakfast. I collected cereal and made my way outside to the terrace to get a seat. The sun was out but it was not hot yet. I went back in to get a roll and Nutella, along with my coffee. I sat out, eating away, admiring the view of the mosques, terracotta topped houses, and the green hills crowding over the city.

I went back to my room and washed and changed. I then ventured out into the old town. With it being Saturday, it was as busy as last night. From the hotel, you walk down a hill to where the spring is. Then the market area is on a lower incline. Its floor is made of flat orangy/brown rocks interlaced with cement. The shop fronts are showing off their wares and are constructs of wood and stone. 

I walked around the maze of shops to find an ATM – for I need to pay the hotel. Then located a small museum, which I find out is the Museum of Sarajevo – right in the heart of the Bascarsija. It is a rectangular building (surrounded by the market) and is domed. Inside, I paid 2km and spent about 40 minutes in there. Not much in terms of artifacts, but a lot on the story of prehistoric Sarajevo, through Medieval, Ottoman, Austro-Hungarian and up to present times. In the centre of the room was a model reconstruction of the old town of the 1800s.

I exited, the walked through the Bezistan. Similar materials to that of the museum (Grey stone with a tinge of yellow, layered between cement) had a front and back entrance, and an alleyway you walked through that had small stalls either side. A pleasant building but the wares were not to match. 

I then made my way to the hotel briefly to pay my bill and have my passport returned. I then walked down the road I came up yesterday. I walked past the old mortared market again, now bustling with life, onward to the new shopping mall. 

I had a wonder around to pass time. I then continued, where opposite the road I saw red marks on the floor. I read last night that these splashes of red plastic actually fill in the holes where mortars struck. I took a photo for the record, but an eerie spot it was. I then walked past an alley where the wall of the building was sprayed with bullet holes. Again, no effort to cover up the suffering that was endured.

I then spotted a café, so took the opportunity to rest from the powerful gaze of the sun. I read and took in the chatter of the locals around me. I then walked onward to another shopping mall and ate there. I had a glass of Bosnian red too, which went down a treat. Smoking is tolerated indoors – reminded me of a few years back, out in the UK.

I then walked past the Holiday Inn again to the train station. It was as quiet as it was yesterday. I asked a guy there is I needed to book the train to Zagreb – no, he replied. Excellent. I then turned back. I now located where museums were for Monday (as tomorrow I plan to walk and shop), so now started the second half of a figure of 8 by taking an adjacent road back to the old town. A bit quieter, but still feeling safe, I made my way back to Ali Pasha’s Mosque – where prayer sounds were emanating from. I then took the right fork on Marsala Tita Street into the old town. I stopped at a café for an espresso and a slice of Tiramisu. Lovely. And only 3km! I then meandered around the old town again and back to the hotel to rest as the afternoon call to prayer began.

My Images of SEE - 20:43, Friday 19th August

The young couple departed 2 stops later, in the suburbs of New Belgrade/Zemun I presume. We chugged along slowly to the next stop and 3 railway workers came into the cabin. I just read. I think they were getting a lift to near the border (which they indeed did, to Sid). I just read in the stifling heat that was produced with no really open windows and 4 men. The journey to the border, through the Vojvodina, was what can now be described as a normal journey – Stop-Start-Stop-Start. There must be a rule that train drivers shouldn’t trust car drivers at crossroads, as we always seemed to slow or stop and have a few blasts of the horn.

Anyway the scenery was what I came to expect of Serbia too – flat. Save for a parallel hill that seemed to follow us to the border; to the north, all there was were cornfields. One thing to note is that we didn’t pass another sizeable settlement until Bosnia. What there were copious amounts of were villages and hamlets. Some no bigger than 20 houses. The journey to the border was quicker than expected and the Serbian customs quicker than usual. We then crossed over. Now I was in recent history.

This was the border region of the early 90’s conflict between Croatia and Serbia (or Croats and Serbs I should say). Again the geography was similar to Serbia. The dwellings were the same too. But now there was the Latin alphabet. We passed through Vinkovci train station. It felt eerie to me, as I know that the town of Vukovar was only kilometers away, and was one day a bustling town. Then it was razed to the ground. Incredible.

The train continued west to Strizivojne Vrpolje, where we then turned south. 20 minutes we were at the border again. A swift check by the Croats let us then go forth over the Sava to Bosnia & Herzegovina – but technically “Republika Srpska”. We then went through another swift check and were free to continue. For a while the geography remained the same. Then it began to get hilly, then more so like the Conwy Valley, or Llangollen. They were covered in a ripe green expanse of forest. We meandered in-between hills and through valleys. Occasionally we went through the hills. Slowly we reached Doboj, still in Republika Srpska – just.

About 20 minutes from here I noticed two things that stuck out. One was that every village or small town we passed there were minarets and towers topped with the crescent and star. They were so numerous such as like passing Welsh village by Welsh village and coming across chapels and churches. Except these were new, and in use; not decrepit and in disrepair. It was an odd yet satisfying sight, as I now knew I was closer to Sarajevo and in the Croat/Muslim Federation of BiH.

The second was my first physical proof of the war. Pock-holed buildings were springing up. It caught me off guard actually, and made me look at my surroundings a lot more clearly and with context. If they didn’t have pockmarks, then they had filler plugged over them. But the scar was still underneath. Also to note was that there were a lot of houses being built, or had recently been built, from Croatia to Sarajevo in fact.

An old man came in, then left. Then a young lad came for the remainder of the journey. We then came up to Zenica, which is the largest town I’ve seen since Belgrade. An industrial city from appearances. But very much Muslim dominated. We continued on.

From here, a new road must be in construction as road works made the traffic build up as we scuttled past. At 18:00, and with the sun on its final descent to dusk, we arrived. Just a short 10 hours. 

I walked out of the station, towards a main road that would lead me directly to my hotel. Along the way I passed the ‘famous’ Holiday Inn hotel, I passed market that was mortared by the Serbs ending scores of lives, and skirted the Old Town. I also withdrew cash.

After 25/30 minutes of walking I reached the Pansion Stari Grad; a friendly guy welcomed me and explained about breakfast and wifi. I went up and showered, then had 20 minutes to myself. The old town is on the doorstep. So I had a little walk around, when a firework went off to mark the end of fasting.

I sat in a restaurant-cum-fast food place and sat next to a young lad. I had cevapci – the veal sausages with naan style open bread and onions. Lush. And only for 10km (£5) with a Coke. I then had an ice cream for 2km then walked to 60 seconds to the hotel where I relaxed, then slept. 

My Images of SEE – 08:17, Friday 19th August

Liam snoozed and I relaxed whilst waiting for my clothes to dry. I went down and the lady at reception had put them into a basket for me. So I went up, woke Liam, and we got ready to leave. We left the apartment, through the High Street, and down a little maze of side streets to the Brankov Most – the bridge to the ‘New Belgrade’ side of the Sava. The view north was amazing, just a horizon of forest.

We walked over the busy road bridge, which took us 20 minutes, to a park on the other side. Immediately in front of us was a shopping mall. So we hid from the evening heat inside and grabbed a snack. We then walked around the mall and up a blocked off road to a park. 

This was where the Beer Festival was being held. An adjacent road to it was crammed full of people going to it: teenagers, middle-aged men and women, families – the lot. We had a light padding down at the gate and walked down a security alley to the main arena. There were stalls of the different beers all around, the ground messy from a few days of partying. We grabbed a £1.50 beer each and went to the arena. The sun was creeping slowly behind the stage.

A nice folk band were on – 8 members I think and a man in his seventies on lead vocals. Songs lasted about 10 minutes long it seemed, and had an almost ‘Greek’ feel to them, although it was definitely a Serbian set up. 

We happily listened for 30 minutes, grabbing another beer, but then made our way back as dusk was approaching. More people were arriving as we exited. We walked back across the bridge at just the right time. The sun was leaving a glorious day, and we say the city light up on its banks. The fortress just glowed from the forest around it. 

St Sava’s Church the other side of town was a Christian beacon for the city. We walked to Republic Square, which was still busy, and had a couple of cocktails. We then went to the 24-hour convenience store next to our hostel and grabbed snacks for the morning. We watched some shows on my phone then slept.

We woke at 06:45. We showered and finally packed before living the hostel at 07:20. We walked the last time through the High Street, then down Balkanska to the train station. It was hot already. My train was at platform 4, and we confirmed Liam’s. We sat opposite the train for 10 minutes then said our goodbye’s. I was now on my own.

The train hardly filled up whilst I waited until the 08:15 departure. I had a young lad and girl for company as I departed Belgrade over the river Sava.

My Images of SEE - 08:44, Thursday 18th August

The cabin was hot, so we opened the window. But the noise from the train was loud as it was the next thing to our carriage. We took in the dusk, then played some card games. We then went on to our separate bunks. Still being hot, but with the shutter being down to save the morning night pouring in, I put a loo roll between it and the window ledge. That gave me some respite from the heat. At 05:00 we were awoken by Romanian border control. Passport then customs questions. 30 minutes later we had the same on the Serbian side. We then drifted off again. Prior to this, at one station (presumably Timisoara) we heard LeAnn Rimes play into the night – odd.

We woke properly at 08:00, but, as guessed, the train wouldn’t arrive at its scheduled time. However, the Vojvodina was beautiful. Severely flat, covered in corn crops or sunflowers, it was a rural idyll. We travelled along at a leisurely pace until Belgrade was in the distance. We passed over the mighty Danube (or Dunav), which was a good 400-500 meters wide. Forest on one side, and urbania on the other. At a snail’s pace we meandered through the city to our station. Another glorious day to welcome us to a new city.

We departed our train then went to reservations. We needed information on our separate train journeys on Friday. The lady there, speaking great English, said that there was a straight through train to Sarajevo. That was for 08:15. For the Ljubljana train too, it was straight through at 10:20. Neither needed a reservation.We left the Austro-Hungarian inspired building of canary yellow and walked uphill to the centre. 

The geography of the city does explain why it was a favoured bastion for all past empires and nations. Before we reached the main shopping street, we turned back and could see New Belgrade across the Sava. New bridges connecting to something akin to a financial centre. Around us were the odd Soviet block, but they were dominated by their Austro-Hungarian counterparts. We walked up the shopping street, very similar to Cardiff on a sunny afternoon, and left it by one block to reach our hostel.

We climbed the five flights of stairs to it and were warmly received. Our room was just being prepared, so we were told to wait. We checked up on the Internet, whilst the hostess took our passports. 15 minutes later we were in our room. It was a double, but small yet comfortable. We showered then went exploring. We continued our walk up the modern shopping street, with table and chairs scattered everywhere for all the cafés and restaurants. At the end we crossed the road in to the park that contained the Kalegdan Fortress. We wondered through the trees and souvenir stalls to reach the western part of the outer wall. The views were exceptional. High walls meant you could see down, as well as across. New Belgrade was on a hill too; in the distance, Zemun. Just before the Sava linked up to the Danube proper, a part of the Danube seeps in a kilometer beforehand creating an island – War Island to be exact. A massive forest engulfing the island at the confluence of the two rivers. The Sava a tad greener than the Danube, a duller green/grey.

We walked clockwise around the walls, we passed Ali Pasha’s tomb in the grounds, an Austro-Hungarian wooden house, then a church. The fortifications were robust, especially its buttresses. We found a café in the walls so stopped for a beer. The views behind us were awe inspiring. 

As the heat progressed, we walked back into town, via the purchasing of souvenirs, then found a café to eat in. Service was slow but my savoury pancake was to die for. We then went shopping for the first time on our trip. Liam bought a nice top, and I saw some English books on the area’s history. After a walkabout, we returned to our hostel.

After a refreshing sleep we then went out for dinner. This was on Liam as a thank you. We walked past Republic Square on to the Skardarijia. This was a cobbled street on a low rise hill that was dimly lit. It has about 15 restaurants on and was pleasant in the evening sun. We went to one on the corner that had a band playing. The waiter took our drinks order and offered us a starter. This is where the feeling of Skopje began to return. He brought over some toast and hummus, then took our main meal order. We both ordered steak. Our candle was lit, and we were sat on homemade log benches and table. It was lovely appreciating the hustle and bustle.

Then our true starter arrived, a massive portion on prosciutto, cream cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, butter/cream and starch muffins. We ate a quarter of it. Then our beef came. It was massive and lovely, but we ordered a salad too. We didn’t touch that. We declined dessert.

We left then walked down the leafy street and turned left. We reached a bar with an outside area and had some cocktails whilst chatting. We left at 22:00 and slept. 

My Images of SEE – 20:57, Tuesday 16th August

We arrived at the hotel, and then freshened up. We went to the bar and had a beer while reading. It was quiet in the hotel, only us and the reception staff. Later on a couple went to the restaurant are and ate, joined by another two tables later still. An English man bar then a Romanian joined him. The Romanian asked what he was doing here. He replied “Business”. The Romanian then asked if he was bringing a woman back to his room. He said no. The Romanian then persistently badgered him about it. The English guy did well, but why do people have to be brash about it. We left after an hour and slept. And gosh did we sleep. From 22:00 until 09:15 the next day – like logs.

We awoke fresh, yet dozey. We decided upon an Ibis breakfast – so we went downstairs and asked to put it on our invoice. We filled up for the day in the shadow of the Parliament building.

I asked reception for our check out time. 12:00 she said. Excellent. We went back up, and read for a while, then slowly got showered, changed and packed. We went downstairs for 11:45, paid, then left our luggage there for later.

We walked up to Izvor park, and its Metro station. We caught the train to Piata Unirii, changed, then onwards to Piata Victoriei. 

The Metro system is small, yet dazzingly modern in a not so modern city. Both comfort and uneasiness came with an armed guard on each train. They were similar to the German U-Bahn ones that have no connected parts, but are hollow from front to back like a fleshed out snake. We arrived at Piata Victoriei, and reached ground level. It was a massive expanse of concrete with confusing traffic measures, a car park seemingly in the middle, and surrounded ¾ in the way by past Soviet buildings. 

We were here though for another purpose. That was, to the north, the Museum of the Romanian Peasant. We located it within 300 yards of the Piata, in a building seemingly constructed for its purpose. Its surroundings were leafy and suburban. We went in and viewed the exhibition in 4 parts.

The first part was mostly wood cross carvings and religious iconography on wood. However, there was an original village church hut that they moved here. No more than a shack, but it held the village together via faith. The second part was an extension of the collective prayer theme previous. There they had a massive boat-like construction that was another prayer room. The third was more ethnographical and to my taste. Upstairs it had male and female clothes, pottery, and kitchenware – and again, a massive construction. It was an actual village house. It had a dark, aged wood as its material of construction, obviously weathered through time. It had an ‘allsorts’ part for tools and labouring. It had a kitchen, and then a bedroom. The attic was used for storage and, quaintly, Christmas decorations. The final part was a look at Soviet propaganda in the village, but basically contained busts of Lenin and portraits of past Romanian leaders. 

We got some bits from the gift shop then left. We went back on the Metro to the university then walked to the Romanian History Museum. However, it was closed. So we went for a coffee on the Strad Lipscani. This was the quarter that had a load of cafes and bars, and was in receipt of EU funding. 

We had a coffee, but a disturbed man was kicking off, first with people, then with dogs, some 50 yards away. So I said we should leave and we did. We went to the shopping area and killed time by having a look around. We then walked back to Lipscani. The temperature and sun was unbearable at this point, so we found an Irish Pub, went in a supped two ‘pints’ slowly. This ws the first time we found an internet connection, so we caught up on e-mails. We then walked around the corner to an Italian and sat outside.

The street was becoming busier now. We had a lovely and fulfilling meal then walked through Piata Unirii one last time, up the boulevard to the Parliament. The sun was nearing dusk now. We walked around the Parliament back to the hotel. We picked up our luggage then walked around Izvor park to the Metro, catching it to Gara de Nord. We entered Gara de Nord, which was bustling with activity, and noticed Beograd on the departures – ‘Lina 2’. So we got some snacks from the kiosk and waited on the platform. 

At 20:30 our train arrived, fresh and ready for the journey. We showed our ticket to the carriage guard and he nodded us on. The cabin was luxurious. A 3 seater in the day, it was now a two person bunk. A sink, complimentary water and morning bag/pack. It was lovely. We settled in before it departed into the night. Our attendant came to check the tickets, and took ours until Belgrade.

My Images of SEE – 19:53, Monday 15th August

So by 21:30 last night, we cracked open the beer and tested out the collapsible cups. Liam’s small one worked, however, my large one began to leak after a while, so we gave up. The younger lad wanted to go to sleep, so we all retired then. Surprisingly, aside from the heat, getting to sleep was OK.

We awoke at sometime in the morning for a ticket inspection by the Bulgarian officers. I then drifted back to sleep. At 02:00 or 03:00 we woke again at customs who checked out passports. We were fine, but our co-travellers didn’t have proper papers. We found out that they were Turkish actually, of Greek descent. We then slowly went to sleep again. We then had another tap at the door later for the Romanian customs. Again, we were fine, but problems with our colleagues. They had a visa, but a transit one, not a visiting one. I think the elder one settled it by saying he had a hotel reservation.

We then slept, by 6am my alarm went off, but still no where near. We got woken up by our Russian carriage hostess. This was at 08:45. We packed up our bedding and handed it in before getting our belongings and waiting to disembark. Once we did, the station we entered looked worn, but western. We made for the exit, and to follow my maps to the hotel. About 5 minutes into our journey a guy stopped us. Liam was weary. He said not to go any further down the road, it was ‘Gypsy Town’. We looked perplexed. He said that with the backpacks, we would look like tourists and will be …(he then motioned a fist into the palm of his hand to indicate ‘roughed up’) We turned around and went back to the train station. Luckily I had spare Euro’s, so I changed enough for a taxi (as the ATM was broke), but when we left the station I noticed the Metro. We took this to Izvor, then walked around the park to the back of the Parliament.

It was 09:30 and hot already. We went in to dump our bags, but our room was ready. This was a very, very welcome surprise. We showered, then slept right through to 13:50. I was apprehensive about leaving the hotel since the ‘Gypsy Town’ remark. Actually, more about the fist action. However, we walked up to the river, following it east towards Piata Unirii. To the west was the Parliament building. It was massive, kind of out of place, but elegant all the same. It certainly fit into its surroundings, including the boulevard we were on. 

After pictures, we then went to a shopping mall. I guiltily had our 3^rd McDonalds since being here. However, we hadn’t eaten properly since lunchtime in Sofia. We then walked up one boulevard, past the university, grabbing an ice cream. The then turned left to where the university library was, onto Piata Revolutiei. There was the Royal Palace that looked very grand in this well kept quarter. Turning south, we then saw the now Senate building, but was where Ceausescu made his ill-fated speech, 4 days before being executed. I expected the square to be bigger to be honest.

We then walked down to a small arcade of café’s, all supplying shisha. It was very aromatic. 2 minutes away we located a Turkish restaurant, which we attended. The food, cocktails and baklava were excellent, but our dearest meal to date, that being £40 total max. 

We then continued south to the end of the boulevard, then over the river and right to the corner of the Parliament. That square was the most recent/modern of all we had seen. Even the 1980’s reconstruction now looked worn. However, everywhere there were facades of buildings from the time it was dubbed ‘the Paris of the East’, but they fell into disrepair.

We walked to the front of the awesome parliament, and gazed down the never-ending boulevard. The Piata in front of us was certainly grand, but doesn’t to my mind serve any purpose in being that big. We then followed the perimeter to our hotel.