Thanks Mum, for everything.

It's amazing what you can do when you have the resources of an empire behind you and when you want to thank your mum for, well, everything. The Caesar Galerius, for example, had built a 10 acre palace and fortress for his mum or, at least, named it for her.

Felix Romuliana, now Gamzigrad, is located off the beaten path and is not on a major Roman road linking East to West. It speaks to how important it was to Galerius that he had built at his birthplace what essentially is a vanity project. I think he genuinely loved his mother, Romula. 

FR is a rough square circuit of walls, once three stories + tall. Even now they are a good 10 feet tall. Enclosed within the walls several major buildings have been uncovered; imperial palace, baths, temples, and later Christian basilicas. But the ground level for most of the site is many feet above the exposed structures: there is lots more to discover. But, no surprise, funding is an issue. On that score Germany funded the excavation and partial reconstruction of the East Gate. Norway funded the clearing of vegetation along the circuit of the South wall.

FR is located on the side of a low hill within a bowl of slightly higher hills. It's a gently beautiful site of green undulating hills, fields, and lines of trees. No landscape drama here. On the ridge line of the low hill overlooking the site to the East are the burial mounds of Romula and Galerius. Seeing them there is why I think that this son genuinely loved his mother. I just found myself moved upon seeing them.

I do wonder, though, what about his father, what did Galerius think of him? 

Mother of cities

The land changes almost immediately upon leaving Belgrade driving west over the Sava. The hills of the peninsula of Belgrade are replaced by what seems an endless plain stretching west, and north North-east into the distance. The plain is the south western most extent of the plain that stretches east pretty well to Siberia. The only blip on the horizon is Frushka Gora--Frankish Mountain. Named, so Wikipedia says as it was the place where the Franks camped.

This land was part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. Although the people were for the most part Serbs, culturally they retain traces of Vienna. It's seen in the the plan of the towns and villages. Houses line up, attached on both sides at the pavement. Relatively blank facades with plain doors and windows face the street. Richer people have more elaborate decoration on their homes and sometimes gates that lead into courtyards. Behind the homes are long fields.

The largest town in the area and the one we visited is Sremska Mitrovica. Once you get to the town centre, it's an attractive little place. A pedestrian mall, a park with bandstand to one side, municipal buildings on other sides. There is little evidence of anything extraordinary. No tumbled walls, no broken arches of aqueducts, no fallen columns or arches of aqueducts pop out of the ground. The slight slope to this road doesn't have to mean anything. Nor does the long street with houses on each side necessarily mean anything either.

In late antiquity, with a bit of imperial flattery, this town then Sirmium was extolled as "the mother of cities." For a few centuries it was an imperial capital, a capital of the Tetrarchy. From the model in the museum it looked very impressive. The museum archaeologist said that the Emperor Constantine even considered making it the capital of the entire empire.

Two small sections of the palace have been excavated but only one has been preserved and covered. It's a question of funding. Where there were three archeologists, now there's one. As for the slight decline in the road and the long street with homes on either side, that's the site of the Hippodrome. If my house was there I'd be tempted to dig.

Goths, Ostrogoths, Visigoths, Avars, Gepids, Quadi, Slavs and Huns

My favourite Star Trek The Next Generation episodes are the ones with the Borg, especially the initial encounter ones. The episode that sticks with me is the one where Jean Luc reflects on what the Emperor Honorious might have thought as he stood on the walls of Rome anticipating with dread the approach of a barbarian army. Did Honorious think that this would mean the end of the empire and its civilization? Jean Luc, in the same vein, wondered what the coming of the Borg would mean for The Federation.

Yesterday, standing on the walls of Belgrade fortress looking north I wondered what the Romans and Byzantines thought as a flood tide of Goths, Visigoths, Ostrogoths, Gepids, Avars and Slavs (to name but a few) washed against and eventually over the Danubian frontier of which Singidunum was a key point. Buried deep under later constructions are a few sections of Roman and Byzantine walls. That's symbolic of how the Roman and especially Byzantine heritage is a foundational part of Serbia. The Serbian Dinar and more importantly Orthodox Christianity are two examples of that heritage.

Some see similarities between the world of late antiquity and the present. No, I'm not talking end times craziness. But read this,  Augustine's World and then read Paul Krugman's The Great Unraveling. 

Here in Belgrade we saw a park near the bus and train stations filled with refugees from Syria and beyond, all heading for the rich North. Kind of an ironic reversal of the invasions of late antiquity. I'd like to think that our response will dictate how we will survive. To that end we saw that the refugees in the park had health care, toilets, water and a place for tents. It wasn't luxury accommodation or even close, but it is help. For a poor struggling country like Serbia it is significant and some grounds for hope.

My hat, my hat

"My hat, my hat, I would wear it on my head.
I would wear it, but my job won't allow that.
To drink or not ....

All the women are looking at me.
My coat, my coat on my shoulders.
All the ladies have fallen in love with me.
My hat, my hat, on my forehead.
All the village has fallen in love with me."

Day 1 in Belgrade was a welter of history, politics, religion, arts and culture, oh, and graffiti--lots of graffiti. From the city's last surviving mosque (around the corner from our apartment and our go-to breakfast spot, Smokvica) to streets named for assassin/heroes, patriarchs, generals, to the enormous still unfinished St Sava to buildings damaged by NATO--we're just scratching the surface. And yet it feels as if we've been here forever--and still there's so much to go.

Walking to Saint Sava, we passed some what seemed like vicious homophobic graffiti. A short distance away was a huge poster of an respected celebrated openly gay actor. I wasn't thinking clearly--I didn't get a picture of the graffiti, but did of the actor--and when this app cooperates, I'll post it.

That evening we met Zak's family, Petar, Nina, and Igor for supper on Skardarlija street. The cobblestoned street winds along with patio restaurants on both sides. A tourist trap it was not, the area is known for its authentic Serbian food and music. 

 

Beside us was a table of guys, both Russian and Serbian. As the drinks flowed the guys got into the music played by the Roma band. Request followed request, and everyone at the table sang along. People from other tables came over and joined in. But, the most surprising thing was that Nina and Igor (Zak's niece and nephew) weren't familiar with the music and with Skardarlija itself. For me this spoke to the changes in Serbian culture brought about by Internet access. I'm not saying old is good and new bad. Rather, there is something to be said for a shared inter-generational culture.

The restaurant is called My Hat, and it was named after the song.

Dobro jutro Beograde, moje ime je Nelson!

"Good morning Belgrade, my name is Nelson." 

Ok, so it's not morning here in White Town, it's 6:30 
pm. We got in at just after 12:00 noon, but I liked 
the sound of good morning Belgrade, and had to use 
it. 

Petar and Nina (Zak's brother and Zak's niece) picked us up at Nikola Tesla airport. Coming from sleepy but pristine Munich airport, NT airport has a certain dishevelled charm. I said to Zak, it had the feeling and look of an Indian regional airport like, say, the one in Udaipur. Zak reminded me, and this somehow seemed apropos, that Mumbai has more people than all of Serbia. Lots of that dishevelled charm has to do with the people, they just seemed so relaxed. Or, maybe it's the blistering heat? It's hard keeping up appearances when it's in the high 30s.

Leaving the airport we passed an abandoned airport building, it was a circular ribbed concrete structure, like something from a Mad Max movie. Surrounding it was an airplane and helicopter graveyard--dominated by an enormous Sikorsky. I know, I know, a photo would useful here. But we zipped by to quickly to get one. I'll try to do so when we leave on the 13th. 

Belgrade has the look of a more prosperous, happier, St Petersburg. It was the mix of awful, make that brutal, concrete bunkers alongside beautiful Beaux Arts palaces (seemingly), with faded 70's post modern buildings. People here don't have the downcast look that so struck us in St. Petersburg. 
Thankfully. 

White Town does live up to its name, diverse this city is not. Having lunch at Via Del Gusto on the Knez Mihailova pedestrian mall I kept on forgetting to count people of colour, there were so few the game seemed pointless. What I did see was several families of Roma. 

Nina said that this summer there has been a big influx of refugees clustering around the train station and the park nearby. On the pedestrian mall we could have been a 100 miles away. Tomorrow, I want to have a look. It's not a purient interest, I just want to see for myself an awful story and how it unfolds in a frontline state. As I write this Zak is watching a panel discussion on Serbian TV about the refugee situation. (Take that Mr. Alexander.)

Lastly, have I commented on the number of tall people here? Here's how height plays out in Zak's family--all of them taller than me. Tomorrow we'll be joined for supper by Igor and Pavle, Zak's twin 16-year old, 6 foot 3 inch nephews.

Departure imminent

Today--in a few minutes, actually--after months of planning, is the day we head out to the former Yugoslavia. And already there are changes to the plan: sadly, Sarajevo and Mostar will have to wait for our next trip. We were faced with the problem, do we see everything by driving around in a frenzy or, do we see fewer things but in a more relaxed way? Distances in Serbia are not large but the state of the roads off the major highways, well, that may be another matter entirely. Furthermore, the terrain in south central Serbiia is hilly to mountainous. In light of a sober reassessment, the original plan of seeing three sites a day is scrapped. 

Skipping Sarajevo and Mostar means another day to explore Serbia and another night in Split--no hardship there. It also means we had to have another way of getting to Split. We've opted to fly from Belgrade. A simple choice, really, a 55 minute flight vs a 10 hour private car and driver vs a 12 hour bus ride. 

There is much I haven't done, but the biggest thing is that I've learnt so little Serbo-Croatian no more than a dozen or so words. Even those few words escape me when Zak tests me with simple questions. An affinity for languages is not in my skill set. That S-C is not at all like Latin languages makes it all the harder. 

All these problems are, of course, First World problems. Serbia is one of the frontline states in the refugee migrant crisis. There we'll be, heading south on the E75 sightseeing Roman ruins and Serbian monasteries, while heading north on the same route are the people heading for Hungary. I don't know how, or is it even possible, to reconcile these two things.

Saturday in Singidunum

 A week today we'll Uber our way to Pearson--the Union Pearson Express makes no sense for us--and fly out to Munich and then Serbia. There is lots to do and already my travel anxiety is rising. And yet, I'm trying to resist the contradictory temptation to waste time and watch something, anything, on Netflix. So, in the spirit of being productive and getting things done, here's our itinerary in Serbia.

1. We arrive at Nikola Tesla airport, Beograd (Beo=white, grad=town) on Friday Sept. 4th @ 12:25 pm. Zak's brother, Petar, plans to pick us up and take us to the Airbnb apartment we've rented in the city centre. I expect that we'll do little the rest of the day other than Burek, Beer, and Cevapcici.

2. Saturday in Singidunum. Today will be the sights of the Serbian capital, starting with Beograd Fortress in Kalemegdan park and then Saint Sava--one of largest Orthodox churches in the world. Fitting, really, to start with these two sites given the stormy history of the Serbian people and their connection to Orthodox Christianity.

3. Sunday will be a mini road trip to north-west of Beograd to Sremski Karlovci (seat of the Serbian Orthodox church under the Hapsburgs, also where the Treaty of Karlowitz was signed), Fruska Gora (Frankish Mountain), and then Sirmium--one of the capitals of the Tetrarchy (Sremska Mitrovica). 

4. Monday, maybe a visit to the farm. Zak's dad still keeps a farm near Jabucje (J=somewhere apples are grown) south-east of the city. From the looks of it on Google Earth it seems a very fertile place but, sadly, it's not being actively farmed.

5. Tuesday we'll roll down the E75 heading south-east. Today we'll visit the monasteries of Manasija and Ravarica, ending the day in Felix Romuliana (Gamzigrad).

6. Wednesday will see us to Naissus and Mediana (Nis), Justiniana Prima (Caricin Grad), ending at Ljubostinja monastery.

7. Thursday takes us to Sopocani and Studenica monasteries.

8. Friday we head back to Beograd with a stop in Oplenac to see the Church of St George and the Karadjordjevic Dynasty masoleum.

9. Saturday we leave Beograd by bus and head to 
Sarajevo and then Mostar on our way to the Croatian coast.