A Proposal in Belgrade

I’m back and I’m ready to share my lovely experiences in Serbia. For anyone curious, Serbia is a beautiful, under appreciated country with no limit to kindness and tasty foods. The week Arjun and I spent here will certainly not be easily forgotten.

We were set to depart early Friday morning. When we left the apartment, we saw the entire city drenched in iconic Dubai fog. I rightly suspected this would cause a delay.

Our flight with FlyDubai boarded on time, but because of visibility issues, we were queued some 33 flights behind. Due to the delay, we were given free food and unlimited access to movies. Indulging in this, I selfishly consumed a whole box of sweets and watched Birdman and Coco.

The flight was under 6 hours, and we landed in a field of white. It had snowed heavily the night before, and everything was blanketed. Arjun, being a child of the Gulf, was giddy at the sight of the powdery stuff. I, however, was not so thrilled. It was the last throes of winter, and Serbia was going to let us feel it.

We arrived at the small airport, and immediately had our first scare of the trip as immigration painstakingly analyzed Arjun’s Indian passport. While it was clear form the embassy that Indian nationals don’t need a visa to visit Serbia, the policy is newer and the low number of Indian tourists can cause confusion. It also didn’t help that Arjun’s passport was peeling. After a lot of nervous, compliant smiles and patient nodding, we were stamped and  let through.

We retrieved our luggage, bought a seven day data SIM, and went to the lobby where our AirBnb host was waiting to pick us up. We quickly stopped at the exchange office, where we found that they don’t exchange UAE dirhams for Serbian Dinar. I essentially had 300 USD worth of useless bills. We rushed to an ATM and were relieved when money came out with no issue, although we had to absorb an exchange fee.

We walked to our host’s car, an old sedan that smelled of cigarettes. This smell would linger the entire trip, as we would soon discover the smoking culture in Serbia is massive. The host struggled with his English, but his intent and kindness were very clear. We rode in to Novi Belgrade, a new development on the west side of the Danube river. The apartment buildings were arranged in blocks, with streets boasting names like “Bolivar Antifascista”. We settled in to our room, unpacking and going over notes for transit.

We bundled up and headed out into the snowy streets, trying to figure out the bus, then decided to take a cab instead. We headed to Belgrade Fortress and admired the winding streets and slushy cobblestones on the way.

The Fortress, first built in antiquity, is located on the Danube, with a prominent statue facing the water. It’s a part of the large Kalemegdan Park, which hosts several concerts and is a location of many museums and historical buildings.

We walked from the cab into that main pathway leading to the grounds. We passed sellers of trinkets and souvenirs and Arjun happily went to touch and walk through the snow. We enjoyed the pines and found our way through tunnels and moats to get to the inner courtyard. I tried to ignore the melting snow leaking into my ballet flats.

We stopped at a vendor selling hot mulled wine, a treat Arjun hadn’t tried before. We got our respective cups and warmed our hands and bellies with the clove enhanced red. We got a good look at the Turkish amendments to the original fortress. Belgrade, as for the majority of Serbia, was once possessed by the Ottoman Empire, and its fingerprints still linger in many places.

 

It was after reaching the view of the river that my feet were full of stabbing pain from the cold. My socks had absorbed all the moisture and my poor choice of footwear kept allowing more snow into them. I sheepishly begged to go get boots from somewhere, anywhere. Arjun comforted me and we found a shopping complex just opposite the park. 20 minutes and 80 USD later, I had some fancy boots with the fur and was ready to properly explore the outdoors.

We continued where we left off, circling the grounds and exploring two churches in the area. These had been repeatedly built, destroyed, and rebuild, like much of the fortress. Between the Celts, the Turks, and the Byzantine empires, this area was consistently a site for conflict, hence the Turkish name Kalemegdan : Battlefield.

Leaving the fortress, we headed on a walk through Belgrade toward the restaurant we reserved for dinner. As we walked, we watched people passing by. We passed countless bakeries, their wares displayed and looking tasty and tempting. We spotted numerous cafes filled with people sipping coffees and smoking. After some time, I admit we caved and bought a pack ourselves and a lighter. When in Rome, right?

After 5 kilometers, a bit of odd directions from Google, and help from random passers-by, we arrived at the Kafana Pavle Korcagin. We chose this restaurant due to a Vice Article that we read a couple months back. We decided it was a unique concept and a great chance to see a snapshot of the political climate of old Yugoslavia. We also wanted good food, which we found no shortage of.

The decor was like a family restaurant, except instead of old tools and country memorabilia, it was portraits of Tito, Che, and hammer and sickles. The restaurant deems itself as “Yugo-nostalgic” and definitely gave a clear picture of the ideals of what some Serbians had believed or still believe in.  The menu consisted mostly of Serbian favorites of meat and bread and potatoes and cheeses, but also included various other cuisines, both Eastern and Western.

Here, surrounded yet again by communist propaganda, Arjun had decided to make the evening even more memorable. Returning from the restroom he put a wooden box on the table. It was wrapped in twine and I was suspicious. He told me to open it and I was hesitant. I expected some strange thing or some prank and I was very unsettled. Upon my insistence he opened the box for me.

There was a ring inside.

With the faces of forgotten regimes facing me, lost in a sea of red flags and yellowed newspapers, he asked me to be his wife.

I said yes.

We celebrated with drinks and stew and sausage. I smiled like an idiot the whole time.

We were supposed to see Nikola Tesla and explore the nightlife, but we found ourselves slightly jet lagged and aching and we decided to catch another cab and head to bed. We laughed at how we are old people, as we fell asleep just before 9pm. No worries though, in the morning, my fiancé and I would head north to Novi Sad.