Life in a year full of Saturdays

Singidunum (Serbia)

05 SEP - 22 SEP

I've been finding it a little difficult to write anything about Belgrade since I've been here and it's not for the fact that I don't like the place, it's quite the opposite. However, when I walk out the front door here I don't feel the need to carry a camera with me, I don't have a card in my back pocket stating the address of the hotel where I'm staying, nor do I have a map in my hand that I'm solely dependent on. I'm not a tourist here, I'm familiar with my surroundings and I'm comfortable with the mentality of the people. Sure, it's not my home turf of Sydney but if there was any other place in the world that could instantaneously become my harbour city surrogate, well then Belgrade would be it.

View to the confluence of the Sava and Danube rivers - Belgrade - Serbia

Near Topcider park - Belgrade - Serbia

View from my 'digs' - Topcider - Belgrade - Serbia

Avalski toranj/Avala Tower - Belgrade - Serbia

View out over the Pannonian Plain from Avala Tower - Belgrade - Serbia

Whilst I like being an outsider, or rather, a foreigner here, I also like the fact that I can understand the language and 'get' the specific cultural nuances that can be regarded as being typically Serbian. A couple of examples exemplifying this come to mind, both of which occurred in the last few days.The first happened in a grocery store. My cousin and I were on the look out to acquire meat, a type used specifcally to make soup. We're standing at the counter and Big V asks whether they have any, the response from the assistant being 'I'm sorry, today we don't have any'. Not an untypical response and nothing out of the ordinary there, but the short exchange that immediately followed is what makes Serbia, well, Serbia, in my mind at least. The natural follow up question from V was to ask, 'Well, when can you expect it to come in?'.The response he received, allowing for a little essence to be lost in translation was, 'Well, if it comes it comes, and if it doesn't come then again it'll be nothing'. Big V walked away from that little encounter with a slight shrug of the shoulders and a wry grin, not a defeated look by any means but one that just screamed out 'typical, what else did I expect?'.As we walked away I was kind of laughing to myself and repeating the line, V looks at me and says 'Something like that would never happen in Australia', and you know what, he was right. Imagine if someone at Woolworths had the audacity to be so indignant to rip out a line so blase and dismissive? I know that my immediate response would have been to say either 'Mate, seriously, are you fucking with me?' or 'Are you pulling the piss?', closely followed by 'Get me your manager', if the smart alec was actually being serious. Therein however lies the difference, in Belgrade it's typical, it's endemic and reflective of a society that for many many years has had the misfortune of being mismanaged economically and politically. It's a place where the majority of its workforce are paid a pittance and struggle to obtain their basic daily needs and where 'fuck you' is common vernacular, used in conversation as comfortably as 'good morning' or 'how are you?'. From that perspective I'm not sure if a tourist in this country would 'get it' without having an insight into the general mindset of the people. The second example was just a snippet of a conversation that I overheard whilst out walking and without knowing the context of the comversation the response that I heard was something like, 'Fuck it, it's expensive but what can you do?'. Again, there we have it, that same type of resignation and acceptance that things are just the way they are and there's not much more that can be done. With that said, by no means am I judging, this country has in the last 20 years been through a civil war, endured a 70 day bombing bonanza courtesy of NATO, been on the wrong end of economic sanctions, had to deal with a warped political regime and then ecountered a sharp global economic downturn that has left its people weary and badly beaten. I guess pessimism is your most likekly form of defence and protection when your expectations are continuously undermined by factors largely out of your control. For that I count myself as being extremely fortunate to be living in a country with a stable government, economy and rule of law, where the choices and opportunities that I make are off my own bat, without them being influenced by external factors beyond my control.

'Walk this way' - Kalegmegdan Fort - Belgrade - Serbia

Kalegmegdan Fort - Belgrade - Serbia

Ada Ciganlija - a river island that has been artificially turned into a peninsula - Belgrade - Serbia

Bike path on Ada - Belgrade - Serbia

'Chill session' on Ada

There are times however when the inherrent pessimism gets on my nerves. Take for example the recent Davis Cup semi-final where Serbia came from 2-1 down to beat the Czech Republic 3-2 in an epic tie. Here we are on day 3 of the semi, two singles matches to go, Novak Djokovic ranked (2) in the world against Thomas Berdych ranked (7) and Janko Tipsarevic ranked (37) against Radek Stepanek ranked (36). Srbija for one are playing at home and in my eyes are a very good chance of winning both matches and progressing. My dad however has already got the final result 'sussed', he 'knows' that the Czech Republic will win and that the final result has already been set, it's yet another 'sporting conspiracy theory' that he's somehow uncovered. In his mind he believes that Djokovic will either 'succumb' to a non-existent injury and throw his match, OR, that he's been paid off to lose the match. My cousin on the other hand just does his usual thing and overtly supports whatever team is playing against Serbia. Now what 'pisses me off' about this situation is that I know both of them actually want Serbia to win but its much more common in their typical field of pessimism to accept the worst outcome in advance and not be disappointed. As for me, I'm the opposite and am more than vocal in my support, actually kind of expecting Srbija to pull our a 3-2 win. In any case, some six hours into day three and with Janko Tipsarevic two sets up and 3-0 up in the third, essentially 3 games away from getting Serbia through to their first Davis Cup final,it's only THEN that both my cousin and dad are vocal in their support. AHHH, INFURIATING! I understand their outlook and know its basis but I can't say that I like it. In my mind that sort of pessimistic behaviour is too decisive, it almost shuts out all opportunity or possibility of positive outcomes.

Team line-up's - Davis Cup semi-final Day 1 - Srbija v Czech Republic - Belgrade - Serbia

Tipsarevic v. Berdych - Davis Cup semi-final Day 1

Czech cheer squad

Novak & Big Zim eyeing me off!

The shirt says it all

Troicke v. Stepanek

Dad with his inflatable clappers

On a totally different line of thought, over time you also come to realise that nothing in Belgrade will ever finish the way it starts. The moment you hear the phrase 'no problems' within the context of work, a personal favour or even in reference to money borrowed, then immediately make alternate arrangements for whatever it is that you need to have completed. As I've now heard a few times here, 'people are people and are not robots'.Quite obviously the space between the work one does and the promises one makes is where the life of a Belgrader takes places, and fortunately or unfortantely, in a place like this,'shit happens'.However, once you obtain an understanding of how these people fundamentally operate is the point in time that you realise that as a people, the Belgradese are quite open-hearted and particularly generous, even if their goodwill can at times outstrip their actual capacity.From where I stand as an 'outsider on the inside', I still love the fact that you can always count on the people being warm and hospitable, even if their daily struggles mean that at times your plans can change rather quickly or even that once while you'll inevitably be left high and dry. In the same vein, its the life of the people here that gives them a richness in their humour that at all at once can be disarmingly honest, black and scathing. They're able to rip apart their social, economic and political issues in such a way where that you'll quite often find yourself screaming out with laughter and in the same moment catch yourself appreciating the insight that it took to pass the comment in the first place. That however is the light and shade of Belgrade. You can quite unexpectedly find warmth and humour in a place that isn't the one of brightest or most fortunate places on earth. It has the capacity to disarm you and hit you squarely between the eyes with what is has to offer in an instant, even if you think you were paying attention.

View from Avala Tower - Belgrade - Serbia

Morning view - Topcider - Belgrade - Serbia

View of the Danube from Kalagmegdan Fort - Belgrade - Serbia

Ada ciganlija - Belgrade - Serbia

Kalagmegdan Fort - Belgrade - Serbia

In the same manner, visually, it's the light and shade of Belgrade that makes it an interesting city. For some reason I have always found it difficult to take photos here, inevitably the photos end up looking like some other place or simply don't do the city justice. In that sense Belgrade feels like a place that couldn't be bothered posing for a photo shoot, it is what it is and it leaves you with a richness of experience and memories rather than a colourful portfolio. There are ofcourse some places in the city where you simply can't go wrong, specifically at one of the greatest t-junctions in Europe, the place where the Sava river meets the Danube. This city grew up around this intersection and its here that you're able to see the might of the Danube slow down to a stroll and casually pass through the town whilst giving it a long sideways glance.

I think the nicknames that the Turks gave the city just about do it justice, 'Sultan's girl' on the one hand and a 'Gate of Wars' on the other, that's Belgrade for you, the light and the shade.

Meteora (Greece) - In the heavens above
04 SEP

This is a place that I'd heard about and always wanted to visit, can't exactly remember when it came to mind but it's definitely been with me for a few years, even if popular belief is that it only dawned upon me after the release of the Linkin Park album - I can add categorically, 'not true'.

Rather than belt rubbish for too many paragraphs let me go with the very basics of how we got here and then you can dine out on some cold hard facts before I throw up the photos, which really, are the only way that I can do justice to the place. So, the day after U2 euphoria we made our way north out of Athens via the towns of Lamia, Larissa and then to the small town of Kalambaka which lies at the very base of these amazing sandstone pillars.

Now, to steal a few lines from Wikipedia as I'm not of the mindset to be overly or overtly creative this evening, 'Meteora is one of the largest and most important complexes of Eastern Orthodox monestaries in Greece...the six monestaries are built on natural sandstone rock pillars at the north western edge of the Plain of Thessaly'. OK, thanks for that Wiki - now for the photos.