Belgrade (Off-White Town), Part 1 (27 Octobre-3Novembre 2006)
Te lady who worked at our hostel in Belgrade told us that the reason ‘Beograd’ was so named, is because of the Celts. They’d been on the move from Western Europe for a while, but in 600 BC there were only cities on the coasts in that area. So they’d heard of something called a ‘town’, but hadn’t found any to sack yet. When they arrived at the corner of the Danube and Sava rivers, they noticed that the rocks were white, and full of caves. Thinking that this was what a city was, and disappointed that they couldn’t burn them down, the Celts named the area White Town, and the name has stuck.
In the days leading up to Belgrade we had been looking for something to do during the one week of holidays we had for Toussaint (All Saints Day/Halloween). We had originally intended to go to Champagne for the festival des sorcieres, which sounded quite unique. But that was way too expensive, and hard to get to. So we searched for some alternatives. We kept narrowing the list down according to practicality and ticket prices, then had to decide between Lisbon and Belgrade. We decided we wanted some adventure.
The cheapest way to get there was by bus, so we booked two tickets and made our way down to Marseille, with little more than a few pieces of fruit and some water for the trip. What a mistake. We got on at 2pm, and the first stop was at midnight, somewhere in Italy. The bus was packed, so sleeping was difficult, everyone was smoking, so breathing was difficult, and the movie was in Serbian. It was a violent romantic comedy. It was followed by a violent comedy, followed by a violent violent movie. The drivers and the rest of the passengers were Serbian, and as we got closer to the end of our 24-hour bus ride we made more stops, and chatted a bit more with our comrades, in French and ‘TV-English’. At the beginning of the trip we thought we’d made a mistake. But as we saw all the really beautiful countryside of Slovenia, Croatia and Serbia, and chatted with everyone, we became happier and happier. Then just before we got off the bus, we were shown the huge gypsie slums, and the really dangerous streets, and the places to avoid. Once on the ground, we strolled towards the slums, down the bad streets and through the centre of the bad area to our unique little hostel, feeling hesitant again.
The upside of Sub standard conditions pt 1
(Mayan interjects) Mama and the hostel is a story in itself.
When sam and I planned this trip, we obviously weren’t in search for paradise. Don’t go to Belgrade in search for paradise. The first few hours were very scarey for me. We had been on a bus for 24 long hours, crossed Italy, Slovenia and Croatia and bribed two policemen on the way in order for them not to check a bus load of people’s baggage, so that the bus trip really would only be 24 hours, and not one minute longer.
All the Serbians and Macedonians on the bus were so happy to hear that two Australians were coming to Belgrade for a holiday. “Serbia is a happy place”, “Serbia has the most beautiful women in the world- you will have much competition” (pointing at me while showing some B grade porn to Sam on his mobile phone- just a little awkward).
But we did finally get to Belgrade. And thankfully the hostel, and a warm shower would only be two minutes away. We walked excitedly there, and found a tiny hostel sign on the front of a concrete block of apartments. We buzzed to be let in to a corridor of steel. And then we heard a womans voice, in mid cough, scream “next floor”. We walked up the stairs breathing in mass amounts of gas- definitely not the place to light a cigarette!
There she was. Not some young traveler working in the hostel but Mama. I kept whispering to sam “this is dodgy”. I thought maybe we should pretend to only be inquiring for a room and pretend we hadn’t booked? But no, Mama knew exactly who we were and there was no turning back now.
This is the first hostel I have seen with only one shower for 30 people. The check in room, about 8m square, acts as the hang out spot for travelers, the only internet connection, the ‘kitchen’, the dining room, the info room and during our stay the place for a first date that had been pending for two years (obviously that story is on its way, too). And that was it, we had just stepped into a place somewhere between 3rd and 2nd world living.
We walked into the dorm, reluctantly put our stuff down. I turned to sam and (very quietly and subtly) burst into tears. That was my first moment of homesickness. I want Sonya, I want the dog park, I want a coffee, I want the Marly, TAKE ME HOOOOOOME. Luckily, Mama became the Mum I needed and experiencing sub standard conditions of living turned out to be oh so much fun!
Mama spent time with us and the other travelers, sharing lots of stories about the area. As well as telling us the story about the origin of the name Belgrade, Mama told us some other interesting facts. Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, means ‘love’. And more interestingly, ‘Balkan’, is a combination of two Turkish words, used by these old neighbours to describe this crazy neighbourhood: honey and bloody. Great, then terrible, then honey-ey, then bloody, etc.
Te lady who worked at our hostel in Belgrade told us that the reason ‘Beograd’ was so named, is because of the Celts. They’d been on the move from Western Europe for a while, but in 600 BC there were only cities on the coasts in that area. So they’d heard of something called a ‘town’, but hadn’t found any to sack yet. When they arrived at the corner of the Danube and Sava rivers, they noticed that the rocks were white, and full of caves. Thinking that this was what a city was, and disappointed that they couldn’t burn them down, the Celts named the area White Town, and the name has stuck.
In the days leading up to Belgrade we had been looking for something to do during the one week of holidays we had for Toussaint (All Saints Day/Halloween). We had originally intended to go to Champagne for the festival des sorcieres, which sounded quite unique. But that was way too expensive, and hard to get to. So we searched for some alternatives. We kept narrowing the list down according to practicality and ticket prices, then had to decide between Lisbon and Belgrade. We decided we wanted some adventure.
The cheapest way to get there was by bus, so we booked two tickets and made our way down to Marseille, with little more than a few pieces of fruit and some water for the trip. What a mistake. We got on at 2pm, and the first stop was at midnight, somewhere in Italy. The bus was packed, so sleeping was difficult, everyone was smoking, so breathing was difficult, and the movie was in Serbian. It was a violent romantic comedy. It was followed by a violent comedy, followed by a violent violent movie. The drivers and the rest of the passengers were Serbian, and as we got closer to the end of our 24-hour bus ride we made more stops, and chatted a bit more with our comrades, in French and ‘TV-English’. At the beginning of the trip we thought we’d made a mistake. But as we saw all the really beautiful countryside of Slovenia, Croatia and Serbia, and chatted with everyone, we became happier and happier. Then just before we got off the bus, we were shown the huge gypsie slums, and the really dangerous streets, and the places to avoid. Once on the ground, we strolled towards the slums, down the bad streets and through the centre of the bad area to our unique little hostel, feeling hesitant again.
The upside of Sub standard conditions pt 1
(Mayan interjects) Mama and the hostel is a story in itself.
When sam and I planned this trip, we obviously weren’t in search for paradise. Don’t go to Belgrade in search for paradise. The first few hours were very scarey for me. We had been on a bus for 24 long hours, crossed Italy, Slovenia and Croatia and bribed two policemen on the way in order for them not to check a bus load of people’s baggage, so that the bus trip really would only be 24 hours, and not one minute longer.
All the Serbians and Macedonians on the bus were so happy to hear that two Australians were coming to Belgrade for a holiday. “Serbia is a happy place”, “Serbia has the most beautiful women in the world- you will have much competition” (pointing at me while showing some B grade porn to Sam on his mobile phone- just a little awkward).
But we did finally get to Belgrade. And thankfully the hostel, and a warm shower would only be two minutes away. We walked excitedly there, and found a tiny hostel sign on the front of a concrete block of apartments. We buzzed to be let in to a corridor of steel. And then we heard a womans voice, in mid cough, scream “next floor”. We walked up the stairs breathing in mass amounts of gas- definitely not the place to light a cigarette!
There she was. Not some young traveler working in the hostel but Mama. I kept whispering to sam “this is dodgy”. I thought maybe we should pretend to only be inquiring for a room and pretend we hadn’t booked? But no, Mama knew exactly who we were and there was no turning back now.
This is the first hostel I have seen with only one shower for 30 people. The check in room, about 8m square, acts as the hang out spot for travelers, the only internet connection, the ‘kitchen’, the dining room, the info room and during our stay the place for a first date that had been pending for two years (obviously that story is on its way, too). And that was it, we had just stepped into a place somewhere between 3rd and 2nd world living.
We walked into the dorm, reluctantly put our stuff down. I turned to sam and (very quietly and subtly) burst into tears. That was my first moment of homesickness. I want Sonya, I want the dog park, I want a coffee, I want the Marly, TAKE ME HOOOOOOME. Luckily, Mama became the Mum I needed and experiencing sub standard conditions of living turned out to be oh so much fun!
Mama spent time with us and the other travelers, sharing lots of stories about the area. As well as telling us the story about the origin of the name Belgrade, Mama told us some other interesting facts. Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, means ‘love’. And more interestingly, ‘Balkan’, is a combination of two Turkish words, used by these old neighbours to describe this crazy neighbourhood: honey and bloody. Great, then terrible, then honey-ey, then bloody, etc.
posted by Mayan at 4:36 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home