Belgrade Fortress

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• published: 09 Aug 2013
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7/31 Wednesday We take a walk to see the City Fortress. It's funny to see a clay tennis court where the moat used to be, and also some basketball courts and something that looks like an ax throwing arena. Near the entrance, there's a small building with a Gem display from the Natural History Museum. It costs us a full $0.75 each to see it. There are nice examples of crystals and minerals from a Kosovo mine. As we walk into the Fortress, we drop 100 dinars into the box for a man playing traditional songs on a guitar-like instrument, sitting under a big Sycamore tree. Feels good to be so well-heeled. The Fortress is gigantic, taking up all of the property around the confluence of the Sava and Danube Rivers. It's all laid out like a park, with benches, snack vendors, people selling traditional crafts, and then Roman monuments, Despot tombs, memorial statues and historic excavations thrown in all around. The views are outstanding. One of the turrets serves as a public observatory. We enter and start climbing a creaky spiral staircase. A wild-haired mad scientist peeks out of his office, which looks like the inside of a goat's stomach, to ask us for the admission fee, a whopping $0.50 each. At the top of the tower, there are some telescopes for viewing and another contraption in a big metal case that might be a more professional scope for the mad scientist man. After a couple of hours at the Fortress, we stroll back up the avenue, stopping at a café for a relaxing mineral water break. As we continue on, we come upon what looks like a former bank or department store, holding an extensive exhibition of 15th Century icons. We just walk in, no admission. There's very little translation for us, but the icons speak for themselves, beautiful works. The artwork is a dramatic contrast to the street art we see, all of it looking suspiciously similar. Even some that we really thought was original talent shows up over and over again. There must be some big street art warehouse, or website, where you can get printouts on canvas for selling on the street. Bob starts munching on some pretzel sticks as we walk along. Suddenly, a very smiley woman runs up to us, followed by a guy with a big video camera, and another with a giant fuzzy microphone. "Excuse me! May I ask! Where are you from?!!" Somehow, she's got us pegged for tourists. I pull off my law-enforcement Oakleys and my Jessica Simpson cowboy hat, revealing my crazy-lady hair in all its glory. "We're from America" says Bob. "And why are you in Beograd?!!" "We're travelling around, visiting the cities..Prague, Vienna, Zagreb...also the sea coast.." It's all become a blur. "And how do you like Beograd?!!" "Oh we like it a lot, we like it very much, yes.." "And what do you like about Beograd?!!" Geez, what is this, a test? "Oh...well, we were at the Fort. We liked the Fort and park.." "Oh yes," I pipe up, "We especially like the way the Fortress has been developed as a public park, with the tennis courts, and basketball courts and benches, and such, so that everyone in the community can enjoy it, it's not just a museum that only tourists would visit.." Her face tightens up. This is far more complexity than she wants. "And...the cafes! We like the cafes," I add. "Oh yes!" She brightens, laughing with relief, "We have so many cafes! Thank you, so long, have a nice journey!!" They hurry off before we can ask what it's all about. So, then we decide to pick up a pizza to take home for dinner. There's a shop on the way, with people standing all around eating slices, others waiting in line to order, a real popular spot, a little bit like a McDonald's. We order a whole pie, pointing to a picture on an overhead display. It's ready in ten minutes, and as we come to the counter, the guy asks if we want any toppings. That usually comes before cooking, we think, when he says "Any ketchup or mayo?" As he asks, he picks up his squeeze bottles and fixes up a couple slices for other patrons, squooshing out a coating of ketchup over the slice, then zig-zagging a stream of mayonnaise on top of that. IX-NAY! IX-NAY! Oh, the humanity! "No! No ketchup!!!" we say, grabbing our box and running for safety. At home, we find our pie topped with a fried egg. The yolk is intensely orange. Under the cheese, we have a layer of ham, apparently a standard feature. We're thinking the translation of the name of the place might actually be "Ham Pizza." Fortunately, we didn't order the Bacon Ham Pizza or the Pepperoni Ham Pizza. And actually, ours is really, really good. For more video and travel tales, follow our blog at http://bpeurope2013.blogspot.com/.