Belgrade (A beautiful love story), Part 3 (27 Octobre-3Novembre 2006)

Krichek was one of the Macedonians staying with his best friend Oliver in our hostel. He was serious, friendly, and a firm believer in the Balkan myth that Serbian girls are the most beautiful in the world (it’s even written in the official tourist brochure). He had come to Belgrade in order to finally meet the girl of his dreams, who he’d actually already met over the internet and had kept in regular contact with for two years. But the first meeting was to take place whilewe were there. He had even bought a Serbian simcard just to call her. Everyone was very excited.

Mama had taken a particular interest, having bought him a rose to give her, giving him loads of advice, basically interfering where she could. All the people in the hostel knew about it and made sure they were up to date with the latest. And Oli (Oliver, his friend) was very loyally telling him to forget about her and the whole business. Because there had been a few hiccups.

The night we arrived we went out with the boys and found out the story, and about the failed attempts to meet up over the weekend. Every time something was arranged, the girl cancelled, being ‘too busy’. In fact, that very night Krichek had tried to get in touch with her all evening at the hostel (his sim card didn’t work in Serbia) but with no success, so he came with us. When we got back there was a note telling him she had tried to call several times since we left, and that Mama had explained the situation and could he please call her tomorrow.

As it turns out, Mama had happily explained the situation with embellishments: ‘he’s very handsome, and so upset you didn’t meet him; yes, he was crying. Very sensitive. Who am I? I work at his HOTEL…’

We arrived at the hostel later the next evening and, much to my surprise, a new odour had replaced the cigarettes. Was that perfume I could smell? And out came Krichek, all dressed up in a suit and shiny shoes. So, we asked him about the plans and he said that he would be meeting his lady friend at 9.30. It was freezing outside, so the rest of us (being Oli, Peter the Australian who has a love story of his own and ourselves-also happy to share our love story haha) decided to stay indoors.

Meanwhile, it was only 7:30 and Krichek was dressed and ready for his 9:30 date. Leaving two solid hours for some serious chain smoking. After the 125th smoke was out, he stood and walked out the door.

Only to return half an hour later, really really angry. Sam and I were shocked: What happened? We asked. She didn’t turn up. She didn’t turn up! Who does that?

125 cigarettes later, we left Romeo in the reception area, and went into our dorm. Mid conversation a few hours later, there was movement in the next room, and Krichek’s voice. In a truly Shakespearean twist, the girl had jumped in a taxi, and sped across town to the expensive hotel and waiting arms of her gallant and dashing lover. Who knows what she thought when she arrived outside our concrete shoebox, and whether she knew her prince charming had borrowed the 200 dinari to pay the taxi driver. I doubt she expected a jigsaw puzzle print floor in the hotel’s ‘foyer’. Perhaps she understood why us, the peanut gallery, collapsed into a fit of giggles in the next room.

As time wore on, and our giggles subsided, we thought we should go and see what was happening. So we took it in turns to do some reconnaissance: to get a glass of water, use the bathroom, collect something we’d forgotten (Sam even took a sneaky video)… The happy couple were sitting with a table between them, trying to be intimate with two drunk Slovenians fiddling with the radio two metres away (trying to find drum’n’bass), and some atmospheric, Romeo-distracting porn on the TV. Hardly a sunset stroll on the beach.

After a while we felt obliged to go and meet the lovely Mira properly, and we all barged out with semi-straight faces and the worst intentions. Oli, the best and caring friend, started looking for more porn on the TV, and we managed to snap a picture or two of the less-and-less happy couple in the guise of some group photos.

It’s probably clear that this date was not terribly conventional, and a few improvements could probably have been made: turn up on time, don’t forget the ‘s’ in ‘hotel’, turn off the porn, take the lucky person OUT on a date, maybe offer them a drink, don’t let Mama near them, and keep them away from giggly backpackers and friends.

The date went about as well as one would expect: she left. But it didn’t seem to phase Krichek so much, who said he wasn’t interested anyway.