Serbia and to Slovenia

Author: Kali

Our stop in Belgrade, Serbia was not planned. We just happened to find a train going there, decided to stay a night, then take another train to Slovenia. We were all extremely keen to explore and make the most of our short Serbian adventure.

We had barely left the train station, walking the 3km to our apartment when it started bucketing down.  Totally drenched, we at last came to an old apartment block. The foyer door was open and even though it was dark and dirty inside, we went in and sat on the stairs. A minute later, Nikola, our very friendly host came down to welcome us to a warm, clean, neat and perfectly equipped little apartment. We were very apologetic for being so late, but he answered casually that he saw that the train was late on the internet, and that this is Serbia! I didn’t quite know whether that meant the trains in Serbia are always late or if it meant something else.

It was too late for dinner and the only priority was to get to bed. It was such a relief to crawl into a clean, soft, comfortable and big bed.

The next morning, we woke up to the rain’s soft tapping on the roof. Despite this we made our way towards the Independence Square where we would start our customary “free walking tour”.

The tour turned out to be excellent. Although the few sights of Belgrade are not very interesting, Bonja, our amazing tour guide made them come alive with meaning and colour.

Belgrade has gone through a number of very severe wars. At some apartment blocks, the obvious damage of recent bombings is clearly visible. Unlike many other cities and towns we have visited, Belgrade does not have a specific or unique style. It is a mish-mash of old, new and in between.

There was one particular area that was really special. It was kind of a preserved area and had old bars, pubs and traditional kafanas (coffee bar).  Every morning, locals come here to have their strong cup of ‘kafa’, a traditional Turkish style coffee to start the day. It is a colourful, unique and interesting strip that attempts to brighten up the grey and mostly miserable war remains of the city. Being the photographer that day, I could simply not take enough photos!

Halfway through the tour, the gentle drops turned into full scale rain. We were all soaked to the bone. Everyone else in our group was equipped and prepared with umbrellas and rain jackets, however, our family was totally exposed to the elements. Well, not everyone. In my little “survival day pack” (that was now drenched) I had everything I needed for any situation or disaster. For this wet scenario, I had my trusty poncho with me. Mum had only her singlet and shorts on, and it looked like she was freezing. I offered the poncho to her. She very gratefully accepted it from me, and quickly slipped it on.

The last five minutes of the two hour tour was simply unpleasant. All of us were cold, hungry and tired. We would run to measly little sheltered spots each time Bonja would stop to explain or talk about something. I craved (and could almost taste in my mouth) a delicious warm bowl of spaghetti bolognese.  When the tour ended, we quickly set off, running in the rain to our apartment. Not long after, we were sitting at our little kitchen, wolfing down the warm toasted ham and cheese sandwiches which mum had made for us.

We had the option to stay longer in Belgrade, or take the day or night train today to Slovenia. Nobody volunteered for the overnight train as we have had sleepless nights on trains before. However, after some research we saw that the night train was the more practical option.

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Packed and ready to go.

At around 3pm, we decided to pack up our belongings, then headed towards the train station. We were also looking for a nice place to have a late afternoon dinner on the way. It seemed like hours before we found the perfect place, after nearly breaking our backs with our heavy backpacks. The food was great, but what really made it a memorable and special experience was the conversations we had. I will never forget our one and only dinner in Belgrade, Serbia.

At one stage, Ruzow casually asked Mum the time. She looked at her watch, then in shock she said: ‘It’s half past eight!’ The next ten minutes was a flurry of flinging the bags onto our shoulders, then racing to the train station while still trying to inhale the last of our meal and Belgrade. We got to the train station with only a few minutes to spare.

We were all surprised when clean bedding arrived in plastic bags and stunned when we received the ice cold water bottles. We just laughed when the chocolate croissant were delivered. Five star!

Within minutes, we felt the jolt and slowly the sights of Belgrade started disappearing in the distance. Mum and I looked at each other with a sigh of relief. If we had arrived at the train station five minutes later than we did, we would’ve missed our train. Thank you Ruzow for saving the day!

Ruzow and Dad shared the compartment next to us with a lovely young Irish couple. We could hear their faint laughter and chatting. Our carriage, with Eulain and Esto on the top bunks, quickly fell silent in sleep. I must admit, I have never slept well on a train before, but this time, I had a restful night. I only woke up when Dad came into the compartment and told us that this was our stop. I was still half asleep when rushed off the train, grabbing all our things hastily. We aimed for a bathroom to freshen up, then found a nice place to have muesli and yoghurt for breakfast.

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Snug on the top bunks.

Our adventure in stunning Slovenia has started.

Until next time,

-Kali-

 

Introduction to Serbia

Author: Kali

At around 6:30am, we were lined up along the Bar train station bench, in Montenegro, with the pile of luggage at our feet. We had woken up at 4:30am to pack the last of our things and get to the train station in time. Once again, an early start.

As the 7am train came screeching into the station, the first thing I noticed on the outside of the train, expressed in large red signs was NO Smoking! I was so relieved, as we have practically been living in smoke for the last while, as so many people here in Croatia and Montenegro smoke. They smoke uncontrollably, a whole box of cigarettes at a time. Anyway, grabbing our backpacks, we all hurried to get onto the train we would be on for the next 12 hours.

It was so nice to finally, after a morning of rushing, sit down on our surprisingly comfortable train seats in our private compartment, and watch the landscape roll past. Our bags were neatly packed away on the shelves above us and the two food bags were set beneath the seats. It was all very cosy. I was looking forward to the whole day on the train.

The mountains, so lush, green and woolly around the sides, and bald, shiny and smooth at the top made me chuckle as I imagined the mountain as an old man peering down at me. The green river glistened beside the rail. Every now and again we would enter a dark tunnel, then emerge and see the mountain we have moved through. It really was beautiful!

Within fifteen minutes everyone was working away, knowing that this was a rare chance to get a lot of school work done. Lately school hasn’t been the first priority.

It was a very productive morning and we got a surprising amount of work and blog posts done. All the time while Esto was reading loudly to Mum, she was snapping away, yelling out enthusiastically every now and then: ‘Oh my! That is absolutely amazing!’ (Snap! Snap! Snap!) ‘My goodness, you guys! Come look here… Oh, sorry Esto. Yes keep reading, well done.’ It was quite funny and disruptive sometimes, and gave you an excuse to look up from your work and stare out the window. It is rather peculiar though, that every time you look outside, your eyes were glued to the landscape. You simply cannot get them unstuck. Only when dad calls out sharply and asks what you’ve done so far is when you rapidly look down at your math problem again. What a view from the classroom.

By 11:30am everyone was becoming restless. The first thing Esto said after reading the last word of his book was: ‘I am so hungry, I’m about to die!’ I don’t blame him, 5am is way too early to have a decent breakfast. We were all hungry. So out came the muesli and yoghurt in our red plastic travel cups. They really come in handy.

After our brunch, Ruzow started teaching everyone how to solve a part of his beloved Rubik’s cube. He loves that thing, and at first, I found it a bit boring. But after figuring it out the first time, I started thinking, well, I’ll only do it once more, faster than before. And on it went. Ruzow made us all hold our tummies in laughter as he imitated some Rubik’s cube YouTube videos that he had watched before. He should definitely get a part time job as a comedian!

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There were three border posts we had to go through, and each time we had to show our tickets, passports and faces. Before getting to Belgrade in Serbia, we would exit Montenegro, enter Bosnia and Hercegovina for only eight minutes, then enter Serbia again. Enough for a headache.

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To our great annoyance, the air conditioning in our compartment was not very effective. We had to rely on an open compartment door to get fresh air. Smoke bellowed into our tiny compartment from the corridor, suffocating us all. The whole passage was a smoke cloud.

Doubly annoyed, I went over to a man smoking in the isle and showed him the signs that were on each compartment door and wall. He, however, just gestured that he was standing at the window, and he motioned that the smoke would go outside. I was astounded. Could the man not see that the clouds of smoke only got trapped in the rest of the train? It just irritates me how people who smoke here in Croatia and Montenegro are so inconsiderate.

The hours slowly ticked by and at last we came to the last hour of the 12 hour train journey. We packed all the food and school things away hastily, expecting to arrive in Belgrade in a few minutes. However, our train was terribly delayed. We ended up having to sit, in our now very uncomfortable seats, for another 3 hours and try to entertain ourselves. An audio-book on dad’s phone came to the rescue until we finally arrived 15 hours after our departure.

The train slowly rolled into Belgrade station and came to a long screeching stop. We slung our bags onto our shoulders and continued our long journey on foot, through scruffy alleys and dark streets. This was our introduction to Serbia.

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Until next time,
-Kali-

 

Montenegro to Serbia by Train

Author: Mariza

Good bye Montenegro. It’s been a pleasure. Especially your mountains.

We boarded a train early in the morning in Bar, a coastal town in Montenegro. Equipped with enough food for an army, we settled down in our compartment for our twelve hour journey. (It ended up being a lot longer!)

An entire day of drinking in the most beautiful scenery. What a joy! All through the mountains of Montenegro we snaked. And we took far too many photographs. Mostly me. I just could not help myself. Such beauty!!

This was our day for school work and writing blog posts. Not that the scenery around us was helping me get stuck in. The rest were doing a better job.

Dramatic mountains, lush green meadows and emerald rivers for miles and miles. Quant little villages on the slopes of green hills. Vegetable gardens and corn fields – every village has these.

We crossed the border into Bosnia and later Serbia. I feel so rich to see and experience all these amazing places. And to think I am sharing it with my husband and four children. Incredible blessing!!

We arrived in Belgrade hours after the scheduled time. We carried our backpacks for three and a half kilometres to our apartment where our friendly host was waiting for us. Apparently this is normal for Serbian trains, so he wasn’t taken by surprise.

It has been a long day, but very memorable. Train rides are the best!

– Mariza –

Road Tripping in Montenegro

Author: Mariza

24 July 2017

We hired a tiny white Renault Cleo for a few days of exploring the Montenegro mountains. What a wonderful adventure! How we squeezed all our backpacks and six people into that tiny vehicle is still beyond me. We had heaps of fun, though, despite the tummy bug and lack of space.

The mountains are spectacular! Dramatic limestone cliffs contrasted with lush green trees of different kinds. Deep canyons with clear, bright green rivers at the bottom. Breathtakingly beautiful! No picture can do it any justice. It has to be experienced, breathed in. We did try to capture some of this magnificence, although the measures we took are better left unpublished.

We stayed in a different village each night. Our accommodation ranged from old stone cottages to wooden mountain cabins, each time in a stunning, unique setting. Sometimes on the bank of a river and other times in a cherry and apple orchard.

Hiking in those mountains is an experience I will never forget. The landscape changes are vast and dramatic. There are too many incredible photo opportunities. Many hours are not enough to drink in the gloriousness.

One of my most precious memories is the six of us lying in a meadow high up in the mountains, talking and laughing and having dry bread and wine. Time stood still as we exchanged heart secrets, lying on our backs, sunshine on our faces.

Swimming in the famous Black Lake was another highlight. Surrounded by mountains, the cool water was the perfect ending to a long, exhausting walk.

We know this, but we realise once again, we love nature and we love remote places.

– Mariza –

 

 

A Forgotten Little Town In Montenegro

Author: Mariza

21 July 2017

In the Lake Skada region, on the banks of a river, sits the forgotten town of Rijeka Crnojevića. In the middle of nowhere. A beautiful, sad and charming place. It must have been quite something in its hay day. The dilapidated stone buildings and -streets attest to this. There is still a wide promenade on the river bank with stone benches and walls and a fountain. But it hasn’t been maintained for a long time. Weeds are everywhere and wild grass stand tall between the concrete blocks. It’s a sad picture.

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I love places like this. Forgotten places. Places with a story. People affected by life and war and all sorts of tragedies. People who have lost hope. I feel for these people. I feel intense sadness as I drink in the devastation.

I wonder what can be done to restore this place. I long to see laughter in the dull eyes and on the unfriendly faces. I know that it is possible. How I would love to witness a total transformation here.

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We rent a little stone house, right on the promenade and in the middle of all the village activities. There are not too many of these. Mostly people sitting around, talking, smoking, looking defeated. We have the perfect view. From our little balcony we can hear every conversation (not that we can understand it), see what’s happening in all three restaurants, have the small river boats right in front of us and have the very best view of the iconic old stone bridge.

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Stari Most (Old Bridge)

We hire kayaks and make our way down the river towards Lake Skada. We have already gulped down several glasses of water from the tap. We now realise that was a mistake. There is fat / oil on the water. And it is rather dirty. All our swim plans disappear instantly. As we make our way further and further away from our village, the water gets better, even beautiful. But we have seen too much and now we can see too little. We’re not going overboard.

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In the early evening we take a stroll down the old promenade. It stirs all sorts of emotions in my heart. We have dinner at the cheapest of the three restaurants. We sit under the grapevines on the river bank. The local kebabs (not on a skewer and not like anything you would imagine, more like elongated meatballs) is served with homemade fries. We order a large salad, which turned out to be incredibly good. We ask for tap water. Then the confirmation. The tap water is not fit for human consumption. Oh boy!! As we stand on the bridge a little later we see that all the fatty restaurant kitchen water goes straight into the river.

That evening Eulain comes down with a tummy bug of note. The next day of road tripping includes lots of vomiting in plastic bags. Kali, Ruzow and I are next in line, followed by Jarik. Esto is the last man standing. We shall be more careful in future.

Rijeka Crnojevića is a lovely little place and it will forever be in my heart.

– Mariza –

 

Sunbathing In Montenegro

Along a 5km walk from the beachside town of Rafailovice, where we stayed, to Sveti Stefan, we came across a beautiful beach guarded by security guards at each entrance. It is a “public beach”, but it is mandatory to hire a beach chair set for €120!

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The island town of Sveti Stefan

You could also rent a set for €12 at a beach close by, but that is markedly less exclusive (the yellow umbrellas below).

We spent most of our time on the free access beaches (the multi-coloured umbrellas).

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Oops!

Author: Kali

We were walking on the beach promenade in Budva when I entered a little kiosk to have a look at the souvenirs. I took extra care to not touch much and I walked slowly to the key chains and fridge magnets. Behind the little counter was a plump, middle aged lady with a miserable expression on her face.

Slowly, I started turning the rack where the magnets were displayed. Suddenly, one of the magnets fell and broke in two. I picked it up and inspected the damage. It was in the shape of a snail and the head had broken clean off its body. I was starting to walk across to the counter, when the lady ran over to me, snatched the thing from my hand, and started waving it in my face, yelling in Croatian.

I was very apologetic from the time the magnet broke, but also totally and utterly astounded and taken by surprise at the woman’s furious rage. I tried to say sorry numerous times and tried to ask how much I should pay for the magnet, but she just kept on yelling in Croatian (of which I could not understand a single word) and flashing the thing in my face. I tried to say  and gesture that I could not understand her, yet she did not cease screaming, as a matter of fact, she just started yelling out louder.

I could take no more, so I asked another local to translate for me, asking the angry lady how much I should pay for the magnet, and what she has been yelling at me all this time. Finally I found out that the cost of the broken magnet would be €1.50 and I headed over to Dad to come settle the debt. At this stage I was feeling very bad about the whole thing.

As Dad handed her the money, she rudely snatched it out of his hand, not even saying thank you or changing the furious expression on her face. She was down right rude!

The magnet would never have been my choice, and at first I left it on the wall in front of the kiosk as I did not like it at all. But after a swim and dinner, it was still sitting on the wall, exactly where I had left it. I decided to keep it, as a reminder not only of Budva, Montenegro, but also of my experience at the kiosk.

We have found that children, especially tourist children, are not trusted in stores in Montenegro. We have had a few scenarios where we were either chased out of a shop or followed around suspiciously for doing absolutely nothing while helping Mum and Dad with the shopping, or just looking around.

Mum always says rude and miserable people are often hurting. You can only feel sorry for them and be kind. ❤️

Until next time,

-Kali-

 

Birthdays in Montenegro

Author: Jarik

Birthday celebrations in the van Rensburg family start early in the morning. The birthday boy or girl has to be awakened by the harmonious voices of the rest of the family, then be whisked away to a breakfast of cake in a wonderland full of balloons and streamers before reading the selection of handmade birthday cards. Keeping to the tradition whilst on the road has been challenging, but we have managed thus far. We however changed country the day before Eulain’s birthday, which means everything we carry with us is reduced to the absolute minimum. This makes bus travel and border crossings much less of a hasstle. Unbeknownst to us, the little town we were heading to on the Bay of Kotor in Montenegro, was nothing more than three homes, a teeny-tiny shop and a ferry terminal – Lepetane. We chose it because you could apparently get connections from there to basically anywhere.

Because Eulain is a very early riser, we all got up before the crack of dawn to be able to catch her still asleep. Suitably surprised and after pouring over the cards (we all wrote her little poems), we very quickly moved on from the only cake we could find to a day full of adventure. (The cake was a somewhat stale wafer and chocolate-spread covered square that was high up on a shelf in the shop next door.) The adventure was to start with a hunt for decent cake in the waterside village of Perast on the other side of the bay.

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We crossed the bay with one of the ferries and walked to the local bus stop to wait for the next Blue-Line bus. After two hours in the sun and four buses going in the wrong direction, we gave up on the bus and decided to get something from the small supermarket and head back with the ferry to have lunch at our apartment. Our second attempt was to go to Kotor for cake in the afternoon. This time the Blue-Line bus stop was just 20 meters from our front door.

When the local lady that waited with us at the bus stop eventually waived down a taxi (after a good 90 minutes of waiting), we gave up all hope of catching a Blue-Line and basically hi-jacked the next taxi that we saw. Once in the beautiful old city of Kotor, Eulain and the other kids were rewarded with ice cream and the parents with a cold beer. We spent hours exploring the city in the magnificent golden glow of late afternoon light and ended the day with dinner in a square filled with the sound of street musicians. We took a taxi back home.

The next day was my birthday. Again we started with singing and cards when the night had just turned from dark to pale, but thankfully my surprise did not include cake from the little store next door. We started with a hike up into the mountains of the Vrmac peninsula. I was served breakfast in the shadow of an ancient little church on a peak overlooking the Gulf of Tivat. Coffee, ‘wellness biscuits’, baklava and a fantastic view. Perfect.

On our way down from the peak into the Gulf of Kotor (the other side of the peninsula), we hiked through the remains of a mountainside settlement that was abandoned centuries ago, a sleepy little hamlet and magnificent gorges catching glimpses of the shining ocean. After 15km or so, we ended the hike with lunch in a local konoba (“tavern”) situated right on the water (the boy at the table next to us leapt from his chair into the bay).  After waiting and eventually walking down the road along the bay, we managed to catch a Blue-Line bus to Perast (two actually, with a connection in Kotor).

Perast is a village lost in a different world. Artists set up their easels there. We accepted the beckoning invitation to cool off in the clear water of the bay. We also succumbed to the invitation to have dinner at a white tablecloth restaurant that included a magnificent chardonnay and sunset.

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The village of Perast in the Gulf of Kotor

Seeing a Blue-Line bus in the distance coming closer to the town, we snapped out of paradise and waived to the waiter that we wanted to pay the bill. Too late. We relaxed again. The next one will be there in 30 minutes.

After 2 hours of waiting there was still no sign of the Blue-Line bus. And this time also no taxis to bail us out. Eventually the bus came around the corner, we got on, even though the driver said that he did not go where we needed to be. From some of the co-passengers we learnt that the last bus stop is about 5km from where we need to catch the ferry to the other side of the bay and our apartment. We end up walking along the windy road hugging the shoreline in darkness, except for Kali’s headlight that flashes red to warn oncoming cars of our presence. Exhausted we get back home 18 hours after we closed the door behind us.

We have coined a few new phrases during our travels thus far:

–          As interesting as Chan-Chan (very uninteresting)

–          As nauseating as the bus from Lima to Cuzco (very, very nauseating)

–          So hungry I can eat guineapig (very, very, desperately hungry)

In Montenegro, we have added two more expressions to the list:

–          As dependable as a Blue-line bus; and

–          As friendly as a Montenegrin shop assistant (but that is another story).

– Jarik –

 

 

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