Sunday 21 January 2018

Around the Balkans in 20 Days – Part 7

The morning was slightly overcast as we peered out the window to test the sky, needing to judge whether or not we should have a day out and about. We discovered that there was a man-made lake on the outskirts of town, which Belgrade folk frequent. Despite no clear sunshine at the moment, we decided that the heat was enough for us to deserve a trip out to see what was on offer. After a few minutes of translating the Belgrade transit website, we found the details for the bus we would need to get us there. We packed a few essentials – sun cream, snacks that we had about the apartment, towels, books and sunglasses – and departed.

Conveniently, the bus stop was on Trg Republika. So we walked up to the square, and stopped at a kiosk that was adjacent to the bus stop we needed. We wanted to get a good supply of water, as we were unsure of the facilities available at the lake; handily this was also where you had to buy bus tickets. In English, accompanied with gesticulations on par with that of an orchestra conductor, we managed to convey, to the lady hidden amongst the confectionery and magazines, where we wanted to go. A few dinars later, we had our return bus tickets. The wait was not long, but the sun was starting to burn through the clouds, increasing the feeling of warmth somewhat. I was glad my gamble with shorts and a vest was starting to pay off.

Sadly not a trolleybus, rather a modern diesel ‘bendy bus’ came to carry us to our destination; and was quite busy too. I felt that other city dwellers or tourists thought this day might be a good one to head to the lake too. We sat two thirds of the way up, and I did my usual thing of tracking our route to ensure we were going in the right direction. Half an hour later, a bell was pressed ahead of the stop we intended to get off, upon which a sizeable number of people joined us in doing so. We were let off next to a bypass that headed southwest, on towards more suburban parts of the city. With our backs to the road, across from us was a rather unkempt marina for medium-sized leisure boats, and to our right back towards the city stood the newest of the bridges to span the Sava River. We walked left, and then bared right on to a raised dam-cum-road that separated the marina and the leisure lake now on our left. Once we walked over, we were on an island that sat between the lake and marina behind us, and the Sava River, hidden ahead of us by a wood. This was quite dense to our right, but thinned out as we gazed to our left, with leisure structures dotted around in the clearings. It was in this direction we walked.


We meandered along a windy path, intersected by bicycle lanes heading into the wood, as we approached a small collection of one and two storey concrete buildings housing a café, a non-descript indoor leisure hall, and a couple of stand alone kiosks selling food. There was a handful of uniformed staff amongst them, joined by an equal number of customers who seemed to be on friendly terms with them. The path turned towards the lake as we walked by these conveniences, and then curved back to run alongside the lake next to a 4 storey boating tower. The long and slim shape of the lake either proved coincidentally ideal for boat races or was built specifically for this purpose. We continued along this concrete walkway for a good mile and a half. Every 200 meters or so there would be a shack or small bungalow to our right, acting as a café or restaurant. The staff would cross over the path to customers sitting at the café’s tables hidden under a dozen or so parasols, on the pebble beach that sloped down at a fair gradient to the waters edge. Every now and again there would be a base for a functioning activity – a zip wire across the lake, pedalloes etc – and one or two that had been long forgotten. There was a mixture of activity going on along the lakeside; people paddling or swimming, many sunbathing, most lazily drinking pivo in the shade and conversing loudly. At some point we turned right into the wood to get some shade, and walked back on ourselves. We then rejoined the path and stopped for a soft drink to quench our thirst.


Not necessarily endeared towards the café’s we walked past, we decided to go around to the other side of the lake. We retraced our steps and returned to near the bus stop, and then took the path that ran between the bypass and the lake. The noise of the road soon faded as at first a car park, then another wood, emerged to our left pushing the road off into the distance. The bars on this side were a lot livelier; the clientele were a lot younger and mostly in groups. Evidently they were university kids who had returned and were catching up with their childhood friends. We perched near them and ordered some beers so that we could enjoy the camaraderie going on around us and indulge our pastime of people watching. We had now reached mid-afternoon.


We drank a couple more beers before we finally decided to walk back to the other side of the lake and see if the café’s there had a change in their clientele. A mixture of the beer and slight dehydration made us a bit giddy and woozy as we walked around in the early evening heat. I think we only had some crisps and a sandwich as a snack. We sat down at a generic café and ordered some more beers. In-between reading our books, we chatted and commented on passersby, many of whom were scantily clad whilst cycling or rollerblading. The background music pumping from the café across the path had now stepped up a gear, and was playing some terrible generic dance music. Our fellow patrons were somewhat older than us, and I am sure this was not their cup of tea either. To mix it up, we decided to walk to another café, and settled on one 300 meters closer to the start of the lake in the direction of the bus stop home.


We sat at a table by the waters edge. There was a small group of people in their late teens, which the waitress seemed to be familiar with. After our beers came, we continued our chatter and drew the attention of an older man in his 40’s who seemed to manage the bar. He started to talk to us about football. A strong point of conversation for John that could deflect away from why we were visiting and how we knew each other. However, the team that he began to talk about, according to John, had links to crooks and killers. The longer the conversation went on, and with no escape as we were at the waters edge, the more I felt uncomfortable. He soon had to attend to other patrons. We finished up, and made our escape.

The next few hours were rather a haze. We managed to locate the bus stop back into town, mostly by following other people over a footbridge and waiting alongside them at a busy section of the road. The bus we boarded was packed, and had a certain drunken and friendly atmosphere as the bus swayed knocking people into each other. Unfocussed glances and half–smiles were the language of this bus ride. We arrived back at the apartment and showered and changed. We had arranged to meet Nemanja and Danilo at a bar around the corner from where we were staying. We had still only snacked by this point in the late evening. The bar was called Blaznavac and it was a 90 second walk away. It sat in the middle of the block, with an iron gate guarding its open courtyard, the main bar being some 30 feet back from the road. It had a mass of memorabilia and other trinkets scattered through out it. We saw Nemanja and Danilo perched on stools, on one half of an 8-seater table, straddled between the courtyard and the sheltered bar within.


After exchanging pleasantries John ordered a round of drinks and we continued our conversation of introductions from the other night. The way we were sat meant that Nemanja and I began to chat to each other separately, as did Danilo and John. We discussed a lot about the city, about its LGBT scene, and recent history – the latter only fleetingly. After an hour or so Danilo said he had to head off and catch his train. He was staying with family who lived in Nova Pazova, just outside the city but could only be reached by the last train at around 23:15. Nemanja accompanied him, so we said our goodbyes and off they went. We stayed for another round of drinks. After this, we returned to Bucko pizza from the previous night and ordered a whole one. We ate some of it whilst staggering back to the apartment and taking pictures of each other. We crashed into bed, leaning over its edge, feeding off the last of the pizza from the floor.


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