Let me set the scene here…

Belgrade, Serbia.

7 am.

Post 14-hour night-bus ride.

Haggard. (Thanks Dayne)

We trudge through the city in search of breakfast, yearning for a warm comfy bed, unable to check into the Airbnb until 10am (which is actually very early). Story of our lives. We find ourselves at the main square (Republic) that is under construction and sit down at one of the many cafes. I opt for the Serbian Omelette, because duh… I am now in Serbia. Listening to techno beats I devour my egg and meat delight as Kristin sips her espresso.

Serbian omelette complete with Christmas mug in the background.

An hour goes by and the once deserted square is now bustling as people head to work. 10am on the dot, we meet our host and she provides us with a plethora of information; restaurants, bakery (Pekara ACA), grocery store, etc. My mind is telling me this information is glorious, but my body is telling me to cut it short so I can take off my pants and get in bed. The body finally gets its way and we nap hard.

Kristin in line at our delicious neighborhood bakery. Trip 1 of 3.

We wake up a few hours later, refreshed, ready to meet Marko. Who is Marko you ask? He was a foreign exchange student from Serbia that was in Kristin’s high school in Rexford about 13 years ago. I know what you are thinking… why would Marko choose to go to Rexford for an international exchange? Well, the condensed version is that he was randomly placed there, and he ended up loving it.

So, this is one of the main reasons we are in Belgrade. We always have more fun, better stories, and crazier nights when we know someone from the city we are visiting. I think we can all agree that when you throw a local in the mix, the shenanigans meter goes up. Marko picks us up with his wife Jovana and their youngest child Lenka and we head to dinner.

When it comes time to look at the menu, Marko asks if he can order for the table and I’m all for it. Beers all around. Cevapi. Shopska salad. Fries. Yogurt-ish sauce. Cevapi is minced meat rolled into little sausages with pita. I’m not sure the best way to attack, so I sip my beer for a moment and check out Marko’s method. He rips off some pita, grabs a sausage and dips it in the yogurt sauce. I do the same and am not disappointed.

The shopska salad is comprised mainly of tomatoes, cucumbers, and a white brine cheese. There can be some onions and parsley thrown in there as well. When you are feeling the cevapi meat sweats come on, you just turn to the shopska salad for a good time.

We sit back and talk for a couple hours while Lenka plays around the table, occasionally getting in some peek-a-boo with Kristin. The conversation mainly revolves around Rexford and where classmates are these days. I hear about Marko’s time in Western Kansas, and even some solid stories about Kristin. An amazing dinner ends and we make plans to meet up later in the week.

Our Serbian friends.

My Introduction to Rakija

Another city. Another free walking tour… with shots! Our guide Mrjana takes us through Belgrade while picking off fresh fruit from that ol’ knowledge tree. She tells us that the real James Bond is Serbian and his name is Duško Popov. This is where Ian Fleming got his inspiration for the fictional 007.

We walk by the National Museum of Serbia which has been under construction for the last 15+ years, and unlike the astronomical clock in Prague, the National Museum is now open to the public. We take this as a sign and explore the art and archeological museum.

Walking through the National Museum, this lovely man with grapes caught my eye. It’s like he is saying, “Who has all the fruit? That’s right, I have all the fruit.”

At some point during the tour, Mrjana pours everyone a shot of honey rakija. Rakija is a type of fruit brandy that is popular throughout the Balkans, and is basically THE national drink in Serbia. This is not a liquor you shoot. You take your time and you sip the rakija. Serbians say it is also good for your health. Mrjana’a grandma would take a pull of rakija every morning.

The last part of our walking tour takes us through the Belgrade fortress. Strolling through the fortress that has been around before the middle ages, we get a text from Marko. He explains that he spoke with his brother in law that works at a newspaper, and they want to interview us about our travels. Crazy, right!?

The city of Belgrade has been in 115 wars and razed to the ground 44 times.

First step of our master plan to be famous in every country except the USA

Let’s skip to the interview shall we? We meet Jelena (journalist) and her photographer at a cafe close by. We sit down and the the camera shutter starts clicking away. She asks us the basics about our trip. Where are we going? Where have we been? Why Serbia? How much does a trip like this cost? What is your impression of Belgrade and the country of Serbia?

Our Serbian newspaper crew.

We rattle off our list of countries and talk about some of our funny and strange stories. I mention my interest in the local football (soccer) team, Red Star, and also my new found love for rakija. Of course both those items make it in the story. We end up talking about travel and all the places we have been. The interview lasts almost 2 hours before we go our separate ways, and Jelena leaves a copy of the newspaper (Kurir) with us to see what it is like. We can’t wait to be Serbian famous!

Checking out what this newspaper has to offer.

Flipping through the pages, the Kurir paper resembles a tabloid, which makes us wonder what our story is going to look like. After much anticipation, the story comes out and we try and translate it to English. The good news is that I am now 30 years old instead of 33. No bad news, but the headline reads “Americans quit their jobs to travel to Serbia” I guess that’s not exactly wrong,

Look at that spread! Also, I am rocking a Boulevard shirt.

The subject of hyperinflation comes up a few times while in Belgrade. Serbia was part of Yugoslavia in the early 90’s and inflation went up to 313 million percent. The country was printing bills that had 11 zeros on it! People would get their paychecks and spend them immediately knowing that in the next hour their hard earned money would be worth even less. The National Bank has these bills on display and tells the story of the inflation. You can also get your face printed on a bill, so that’s pretty cool.

The bottom bill is 500,000,000,000.

Please use the comments below to let us know who took the better currency photo 🙂

I know you will choose me.

During our time in Belgrade we meet up with Marko and his family a few times. Our final night in town we walk to Tašmajdan Park and have drinks one last time. Jovana bring us some homemade jam and I am in heaven. My new meal plan involves living off of PB&Js for the next week. We stay at the park cafe until it closes and the night ultimately ends because you can’t wear flip flops to a night club. In my defense, I thought we were going to the park for a drink or two. Oh well.

Thank you again Marko and Jovana for showing us your wonderful city!

Ketchup and Mayonnaise???

Late one night I am walking to find a snack. The Belgrade football team, Red Star, has just pulled out a draw in Champion’s League and the streets are starting to flood with people leaving the bars and cafes. I walk up to a pizza joint and order a couple slices (one for Kristin because I am a good husband). As I am waiting, I see a man receive his slice and then put ketchup AND mayonnaise on it. Frozen, I look on in horror as he happily walks away and takes a bite. I still have nightmares about this. Is this how foreigners feel when I throw some peanut butter and jelly on bread?

There were multiple times we stumbled across dogs “parked” outside of a store waiting for their owners.

NOT PICTURED: The arrow that flew over the target… oops.

Our final morning in Belgrade reminds me of our first morning there. We wake up, a little haggard and trudge through the city to catch our bus to Sarajevo, Bosnia. We print our tickets at a little copy shop on the way and show them to the attendant at the bus station. He gives us a look of disapproval and points us to a random counter. We go to this counter and have to pay to print some other random ticket for the bus. Of course we used all our Serbian dinar, so we have to run to an ATM and then run back to the counter. Time is ticking at this point and the bus is about to leave.

We now have a ticket… for our ticket, and we bee-line it for the bus. The bus driver informs us that our bags are extra, but luckily we still have a bit of cash left over from our most recent ATM visit. We pay the man and plop down on the bus, ready for our next 8-hour adventure.