Stopped by the police, twice

We left Beograd at lunchtime and drove towards Novi Sad, a town 40 kms north. This will be our second stop in Serbia.

We miss hiking. We have been doing quite a bit of sightseeing recently: Transylvania, Timisoara, Beograd… But, unfortunately, we have not planned to do any hiking in Serbia. Most of the highest  peaks are south, 400 kms from Beograd, quite inconvenient and impractical to drive all that way to climb only 2000 metres peak.

We got a bit excited when we found out that there was a a national park near Novi Sad called Fruska Gora, 80 km long and numerous trails to walk on. That will do to us until we find something more strenuous (which won’t be until we get to Montenegro in three weeks time).

However, we never find this park. We have missed the turn and only realised it when we arrived at Novi Sad. But, we don’t bother trying to find it, not just for hills.

We have however, found a parking space, in an abandoned car park hotel, 2 kms from the centre.

It is 17.00, what to do. It is too late to go sightseeing and too early to go out for dinner, we thought of sorting the meal out as soon as we arrived in this country. Leaving it to the last day, like in Romania, was a bad idea. (We blame Dora for that).

We do a bit of IT and leave to search for our chosen Serbian restaurant at 19.00. It shouldn’t take longer than half an hour to get there. Well, it did. We walked and walked and got nowhere, until we had the brilliant idea to kindly ask to access free WI-FI at the nearest coffee shop. It is then when we realised we were walking in the wrong direction.

Our efforts to find this restaurant were in vain. It is closed for not paying the bills, according to the coffee shop next door. We go for our second choice, which it appears to be only round the corner.

This one is open and quiet, but only for the first half an hour. Big groups start arriving soon after, and choosing to sit next to we we are.

We have had a lovely dinner: Serbian salad and Ajvar (peppery paste) for a starter. For the main course, Gary had a lamb which although nice, wasn’t what he expected; and I went for a fishy choice: grilled trout with home-made potatoes. The local wine, a chardonnay, was nice and refreshing, ideal for a hot night.

A surprise is waiting for us when we leave the restaurant. Over the last couple of hours, the town appeared to have transformed itself into a night club. Pubs and cafes are playing loud music. Hundreds of people hang around the streets with drinks in their hands, shouting, rather than talking, at each other to be able to have a conversation. The buzziness isn’t having the desired effect on us, too old, we are going to bed.

Novi Sad is like a mini-Beograd; it has all the spoils and none of the stress of the big smoke.

Shame we didn’t get here for the EXIT Festival, a summer music festival held in the Petrovaradin Fortress every year in July. This festival was born in 2000 and organised by young people against the Milosevic’s regime. Well-known bands have taken part in it since, such as The Prodigy, Fat Boy Slim, Pet Shop Boys or Iggy Pop.

A night market has been set up on this square, although rather than fruit and vegetables, food and alcoholic drinks are the only goods available. We are still going to bed though.

The next day, we visit the citadel, no hangover for us!

To get the mandatory photos of the nice views of the town.

The citadel cascades down the hill with three sets of walls in various levels of completeness. GDR

This citadel offers a bit more than views: an army museum and a tour around the underground passageways are open to the public. It is only when we buy the tickets we find out that to visit to see the catacombs, we need to be in a group of 10 people. A bit unfair. We have not made enough friends here.

Disappointed, we walk back to Dora. Our Novi Sad tour has finished. We continue to drive north towards Subotica. Our short visit to Serbia is going quick. We reckon we will leave the country tomorrow, one day earlier than planned.

As we are ahead of schedule, we stop at Sremski Karlovci. This village is famous around here for its wines.

We wander around this surprisingly, cute, quaint little village.

With lively coffee shops. The cafe culture has also reached the countryside in Serbia.

Nice flower display. We may copy this set up, but to grow strawberries instead, which are more practical and equally beautiful.

Nice building? I would think so. Let’s ask the expert. What do you think, Gary?

Not my style, so no comment. GDR

I get excited about this little market set up on the adjacent square. It is all about honey: clear honey, dark honey, thick honey and thin honey. Walnuts and figs marinated in honey are also available.

The four lions fountain, heavily advertised on the tourist guide. Impressed? Not really but I will still take the photo.

We follow the recommendation of the tourist information officer we have just talked to and head off to a winery which also happens to be a bee museum. We like bees.

We will have to wait a bit for our tour. A big group of Germans are about to finish theirs.

The tour includes wine and honey tasting . I don’t know how they were like with their wines, but these Germans really like their honey. Some of them are munching it by the spoon load.

The one at the end really likes her alcohol and she slurps up the leftover shot glasses of brandy. It could be a lively journey back on the coach for the others!

Eventually they stagger off noisily. GDR

Gary ignores them and patiently waits. I am just amazed.

It is now our turn. We try three whites and three reds, and we didn’t like any of them. The whites, too harsh; the reds, too light.

Thereafter, the honey. I wasn’t in a mood for sweetness. Gary may want to tell their thoughts…

We had three to taste;

clear honey, like honey really, nice.

with sesame-  really harsh flavour that overpowered the honey

and with all the bee products, comb, ear wax, pollen etc. Really thick and heavy.

The guy gives a short tour of the bee making process, which is fascinating as it was a local who came up with teh modern bee hive, but I am sure I have heard this claim to fame elsewhere on our travels. The guy isn’t really interested in our questions though, it seems to interrupt his patter, disrupt the flow. He is a bit grumpy really. We leave without buying anything. GDR

It is now 15.00. We continue to drive for a couple of more hours and then stop, close to Subotica.

Suddenly, we come across a surreal sign: ‘Aduane’. Where the hell are we?

A policeman at the frontier waves at us. We stop.

To go up to Subotica, we had chosen to drive west and then turn off at the village of Llok to drive north. But we never realised that Llok was actually in Croatia.

Us: we are planning to visit Croatia, but not just yet. We want to go back to Serbia.

Police: You can go to Serbia, as long as you have passports, or turn back.

So here we are, having to go through four border controls in twenty minutes. The police receive us with an smile in the last two. They’ve probably been told about us; a couple of idiots in a motorhome who have come to Croatia by mistake.

We are back in Serbia again and continue to Subotica, looking for a place to sleep.

But we before that, we are stopped by the police again. This time, the Serbian police, just after the village of Vrbas. Have we gone over the speed limit? Surely that cannot be possible in Dora! No, the problem is with our lights. In Serbia, it is compulsory driving with the headlights on 24/7 and we only had the sidelights lit.

The pair of them could hardly speak English. With gestures, they explain we have to fill up a form with our details, go to the bank at Vrbas, pay DIN 3,000 (€30)  and come back to give them the receipt.

But how do we pay? It is Sunday afternoon. The bank is closed. He would repeat the process again and again, bringing the form in and out of the  car. “We want to pay but we need to know how. The bank is closed, can we pay at a police station? No, it has to be at the bank. The bank is closed. He shrugs his shoulder. His fellow talks to him, smiling. If he was up to him, he would let us go.

Eventually he gets out of the car, cover his eyes with his hands just go. His friend has eventually persuaded him.

Happy of not having to wait until tomorrow to pay the fee, and with our headlights on, we find a place to sleep, 10 kms from Subotica. Tomorrow we will be out of the country and we will then be able to tell this story.

SM