Badlands
Breakfast
With each bite of his breakfast
the man buries his dreams.
He bottles his hatred and neatens his tie.
It is never a good morning.
The Man.
The man builds a robotic arm.
He builds more robots.
He builds better, smarter robots.
He is their king.
The robots grow smarter.
The robots are great in number.
The man surveys his creations.
His creations survey the man.
The robots are intrigued. The man is not like them.
His metal is soft thinks one robot.
The man is worried. There are too many robots.
He does not remember building this many. He is
old and worried. The robots are strong. They
learn quickly. The man is trapped in his house.
Beograd
Mon 30th Aug
On leaving the hostel we walk for a couple of
minutes before realising we had left our passports
behind reception.
9 hour train journey to beograd.
Cabin to ourselves. There is no better way to
travel. Spirits are high early on as we pas a
petrol station named ‘Hasanal’
Spirits are worn down by compartment door opening
everytime the train stopped.
Lots of writing. Creative compartment. An hour from
Beograd the train and our compartment fills.
Spirits non existent, we both want off the train.
Warm evening, great vibes from Beograd. Rich thinks
he knows the way, due to him having visited two
years ago. We walk for some time, hit a main
square. Rich is yet to find his bearings. I ask an
attractive lady for directions, she advises we jump
on a tram. We thank her and Rich suggests we ignore
her advice and walk.
Lots of walking later and more people questioned we
find the hostel. The building is like something
from the film Rec. Dark and lots of stairs. The
lift barely fits the two of us and our bags.
On exiting the lift a sign reads ‘max two
persons/one person with luggage’
Tues 31st Aug
The view from our room across the roof tops of
Beograd puts us in a great mood for the day. I
sleep as Richard again wakes at the crack of dawn,
noisily goes and returns from the shower. Dresses
and sits waiting noisily and impatiently for me to
wake.
When my awareness of his awakeness reaches an
unbearable level, i rise, shower and dress.
Breakfast is bread meats and soft cheese, enjoyed
in bright warm sunshine in the centre of the main
park.
In high spirits we wander through the park and
around the castle grounds making our way to the
city zoo.
Surprisingly cheap and full of pigeons are our
initial reactions, as we meander onto the more
exotic animal we pass love making tortoises and a
perfectly still crocodile. So still is he that we
debate the likelyhood of him being a fake-odile. In
favour of the not real argument is the collection
of coins lying on his back, clearly thrown by
disgruntled punters trying to evoke a reaction.
A slight eyelid flicker settles the debate and we
move on, the visit now takes a soul crushingly
depressing direction.
Sad panthers.
Sad wolves.
Sad bears.
Sad tigers.
Sad lions.
A sad cheater.
and two sad domestic looking dogs all in small
depressing cages.
We are overcome by oppressive sadness. We feel ill.
The zoo was a bad idea.
We talk of returning at night and freeing the
animals.
The exit is sought. Further sadness in the case of
a crazed fox incessantly pacing back and forth and
jumping up the wall of his cage.
Exit, hollow freedom. Fresh air.
In the park is a photography exhibition about the
war, about people who have never had the death’s or
survival of their missing loved ones confirmed.
Harrowing, bitterly sad stories.
We spend the rest of the day wandering the city
looking for a cinema, we find one of the three
marked on the map the other proving impossible to
locate. The selection of films is pretty awful.
We walk to the Bohemian quarter to eat dinner.
We ask the waiter for Serbian food and Serbian
beer. The results is great beer (Jelen) and great
food, some kind of sausage steak filled with cheese
and fried in breadcrumbs. Delicious.
More Jelen, we head to a bar we’d seen earlier in
the day which is part bookshop part bar. After
another Jelen we decide to walk over to the Danube,
it starts raining so we admit defeat and head back
to the book bar.
Wed 1st Sep
Failing to see a recurring theme we once again
attempt to book our train tickets ahead of time,
only to be told again to purchase them on the day
of travel.
It had been suggested by the hostel girl that we
rent bikes and go see the other side of the Danube.
But being at the station, a long distance from the
bike rental place but very close to the bridge, we
choose to walk.
As soon as we reach the other side and the scale of
the walking ahead of us sinks in, we regret the
decision immediately.
This is made worse by the number of people passing
us on bikes.
We decide to walk to the modern art gallery. This
takes us about half an hour. The Gallery is closed
for refurbishment.
Morale is low.
We walk further reaching a dead end, across the
river we can see the city and where we want to be.
It taunts us with its closeness.
We face a long walk back to the bridge.
Morale sinks even more.
Richard climbs onto a rusty old boat, he is a
captain for a moment.
Eventually we are back on the right side of the
river, moral is rising. We have a plan to go find
food in a cool new restaurant we have been told
about. There are cats playing and we know where we
are going.
An hour later we are mostly lost and morale is
slipping away.
Somehow we find the ‘concept bar’ it is pretentious
and hip, everyone has a haircut.
There are lot of lightbulbs. The food is miniature
versions of food. This doesn’t stop it tasting
great and it isnt over priced. We buy lots.
There is a dog under the table.
Richard goes to the toilet. He comes back and is
cryptic about his experience.
I go. Opening the door i am confronted by a room
that is completely floor to ceiling mirrors with a
row of wash basins in the centre and no
determinable doors.
I understand Richard now. I work out by pushing on
the mirrors that they are in fact cubicle doors. It
is the most surreal and confusing toilet experience
i have had to date.
The rest of the day consists of a failure to watch
the sunset over the danube due to clouds. A visit
to the natural history museum. (a small room filed
with glass cases of stuffed birds)
and a meeting with 2 english girls in the hostel
who were impressed with our ‘braveness’ in
travelling without a guidebook.
We try to hide grins, we are useless, not brave.
We amuse them with our 2 ice-cream based stories,
then they leave to catch a night train.
We drink beer with an American IT guy, he tells us about a depressing time in the Philippines.
Tomorrow we travel to Novisad.
Dubrovnik, Mostar and Sarajevo
Tues 24th - Wed 25th Aug
No sleep, 4 hour talk in gatwick, horrible flight.
Dubrovnik, heat, one legit hostel, booked, everywhere booked.
Hot. Man at bus stop, offering room, we are fearful of being
stabbed. Eventually go back to him, he has an austrailian friend.
With stabbing fears still at our minds forefront we let them lead
us into the old town and down a side street. Turns out the guest
house is run by the croatian man’s mother, who spends all day
wearing her dressing gown and watching tv. Also it is awesome and
cheap and right in the middle of the old town. Sick roof terrace.
We spend both nights and some of the days up there.
Go to island just of shore, wander about, stumble across nudist
beach. Find non nudist beach, swim, crystal clear water.
Dubrovnik has too many people, and is hot. Looks nice.
Thurs 26th Aug
Bus to Mostar, uneventful. Even hotter than Dubrovnik, 38/39
degrees C.
Find the hostel, i am attacked by their dog. The hostel is under
a couple’s house. It i empty we are the only guests.
Failed attempt to buy train ticket at the station for tomorrow’s
journey. Ticket man sat behind glass tells us we can’t buy a
ticket off him and must come back in the morning. (what is his
job?) When we eventually buy a ticket the next morning it is
handwritten.
We go check out the town, old town and infamous bridge, we are
given a tour of the ‘museum’ by a man in his underpants. He
points at the foundations of the old bridge and talks to us in
bosnian. At least it was cool.
Richard feels sorry for beggars. We swim in the river, it is ice
cold. Some people jump in off the bridge. A chubby kid splashes
me with water.
Back at the hostel we eat dinner in the garden during which
Richard is attacked by a wasp and we enjoy a golden sunset.
It gets dark. In the room we have two choices of light setting,
pitch black or blindingly bright. As a solution we construct a
den. The evening is spent in the den drinking beer and watching
arrested development on Rich’s ipod.
Friday 27th - Sun 29th Aug
Mostar train station is big, empty and heavily overstaffed. All
of who seem to lean out of windows looking at nothing all day.
Also there is a bus parked on the platform with no visible road
access. We meet a dutch man called Marco.
Uneventful train journey to Sarajevo. We talk to Marco about
football. We discuss Beach House.
On arrival in Sarajevo, we are impressed by the scale of the
station, less so by the stupid massive coca-cola train adverts at
either end.
We are approached by a man from a hostel offering us cheap rooms
and a free ride to the old town. It is Hot so we accept. 5 mins
later we are in the hostel’s ‘booking office’ being told the
rooms are more expensive, we are shown some small cramped
looking dorms. The angry women loses patience with mine and
Richard’s indecision. Apparently she is too busy. She demands we
pay for our journey from the station, we begrudgingly hand over 4
euros each. Marco refuses.
This leads to a lot of uncomfortableness, threats of police and
two large men boxing us in on the street outside. Eventually no
police turn up the men stand aside and Marco walks off. We are
given a threat of violence to pass onto ‘our friend’.
Soon after we part ways with Marco and go to an internet cafe to
search for a place to stay.
Hyatt Hostel. Cold showers, no air con. Underwear, bread and
cheese. Richard hates smoked sausage. He is however a tv repair
man and somehow makes the broken aerial work. Bosnian Simpsons and
weather reports from cheerleaders.
Sarajevo quickly becomes a favourite city, it has eastern charm
in its old town and chic western style in its fast growing modern
centre.
Failed attempt to visit main museum, half hour walk to find it
shuts at one on a Sunday.
Cinema excursion, the expendables. Cinema is cheap this is the film showing at the time we arrived, it was a horrific experience. Basically five men committing genocide on a small Hispanic island. Afterwards we feel ill and ask ourselves what we were seriously expecting.
Amazing views over the city from hill behind our hostel, even
better at night. Warm, light rain. We return to our room to find its only 8.30pm. After considering bed, we opt to head out and find a bar or two in the centre of town. We soak up the vibe for a few hours, thoroughly enjoying all Sarajevo had to offer.
Next we get depressed and i run out of money in Serbia!
