23-IX-2022.: to Divčibare
We eventually decided not to change the plan, the grand event announcement will turn out to be a blank, it always does. We got up early enough, had coffee, packed practically everything we meant to, got into Joda and hit the road at 8:30. We took Violet's old tablet to use for navigation, because now from Obrenovac to Lajkovac (and Čačak) there's the new highway (built on chinese loan, by chinese builders, we may never know the actual cost) and I don't want to miss a turn, specially in the part around Mionica. It went smooth and fast, we didn't lose the way, arrived by 11:30. Parked by the same tavern as last time (22-IX-2016.), but it's a different company now, old Vukadin aka Vule has died. It looks justt like it did, the atmosphere is almost the same, but now there's a big TV on which they play turbo folk (v. narodnjaci) from yoochoob. The grub is good, specially the fries, but a tad more expensive and... okay, done with the place.
(... 2 words...)
And then walk. To get to know the end. She wants to learn of mushrooms, and we're on exactly the spot for it. Wherever we walk, there's a pole with a „educative plaque“ inscribed with all the information and a good picture of one species of mushrooms each, so walk and find. All nice except all latin. And, of course, bare 50m from the center she picks up a large specimen, and who knows, it may even be edible more than once.
Walked somewhere behind hotel Maljen, and it got cloudy, somewhere between „the cloud is around us“ and „is this rain falling or levitating?“, so we returned to centre. Then walked through the market, then exited it on the other end, and found some huge hotel, at least this one is open, and its front parking is full (we later found that the rear is empty). They're full for the night, there's some simpozijum* going on. Well well, who'd a thunk these are still produced. „A rich country this is“, said a guy whom we met twenty minutes ago, and now again. The parked cars weren't shabby. There was even a proud exemplar of spaček smack in the middle.
We passed the centre once more, and skipped the Rojal mauntin hotel, because we routinely avoid places named in english and built after the latest fad, which presently means blackbrown frames and roofs, glass fences, chromed bars, lots of glass and no color at all. Passing further we found the hotel Pepa. The natives pronounce it with a long falling accent on e, the Belgraders with short, as heard in english. It has a grocery in the other building, defunct. The other one, a kilometer in the opposite direction, works. We enter and ask, and the girl says 4800 dinars per night per person, and up. Smoking forbidden, of course, and the rooms don't have terraces. About face, and 50m down we find a sideroad going up. We found a villa named Vila Vila, aha, someone has the wits around here, we enter, ask, the lady says 2600 dinars per room per night, room has a terrace. Has one room right away, but, but... the teevee doesn't work. „Excellent!“ we both proclaim. She asks for no ID, just name and JMBG**. Of course, she doesn't know hers. I could rebuild it of the top of my head if I only knew the last two digits. „She's in identity crisis... carries no ID“. „Okay, I'll put someone else's“. „Now what's missing is that she takes a detective and the guy finds I was here with who knows whom...“. We paid for three nights, and went to Vule's to get the car. The lady must have concluded I was with a mistress. No wedding rings, we stopped wearing them years ago, they chafe when we work in the garden.
At the entrance it says „Object is under video surveillance“ and sure enough, there's a doog dozing by the door. We called that dog Video henceforth.
Most of the titles of everything are in cyrillic. A rare sight.
We hooked the tablet into the house net, guessed the password on first, I check the maps and conclude that if we go a bit uphill, we should reach the market. Yes, but the last leg of it is a very steep staircase, going down to the creek, then over a bridge, then it's really just 50m left. Mushrooms galore, cheese, dry meat stuff, all local. The local authorities forbid large chains from operating here, preserving the tourist identity of the area. Good logic.
We walked a lot more, even went up the Kaona road, under the impression that at some viewpoint there'd be a terrace with beer, but we still weren't in shape, and we felt that the 200m sign to it was false, so we gave up and turned back (and down).
On the way back we went into „Zamak“ (castle), which looks more like a roadside watering hole. That's where we had an Amstel last time, but the place where we sat last time is now nonsmoking. Middle room likewise; the smoking area is the west looking glass cage, but we saw no ashtrays, but there's no mistake, the smell is there. Immediately smacked of America, the smoking lounge on Atlanta airport (and Norfolk too, only Saint Louis was good), where they never turn the ventilation on, on sheer spite. About face, getting out of here.
Dropped by the room to taste what we bought - čvarci, first of all, kajmak, ripe young cheese, kačkavalj with parsley and garlic, sudžuk. The lady at the market, where we bought it, said „I'm giving you no more samples to try“, because we bought everything we tried. We had no bread nor milk; milk we found at the next shop, but no such luck with bread, the baker closed already. We scrounged one little somun from a brzožder (v. house dictionary), 50 dinars, but how it was, he should have paid us. But, at least, we had something to spread the kajmak on, which was a great one, young and nice, just right. And it's not every year that I find ripe young cheese, the kind dad's (maternal) aunt used to make, which I ate a couple of times as a kid, and remembered the taste.
Tried to play solitaire on the phone, and it not just worked, I kept winning.
Initially we planned to bring no brandy along, but then, just in case, brought the last litre of quince. There are shot glasses in the room, but only 0,03l... 0,05 is what we're used to, this was a bit awkward. It's rather cold at night, this is a kilometer of altitude, and we're smoking on the terrace. Equally wrong as at home at day, coffee inside and smoke outside. But we got into the swing of it, a shot inside, get warm, smoke outside, chill out, repeat. We didn't drink much, four of these small shots, which is 0,12l, about two and a half of regulars.
I made this shot (and three more such) using the parapet for support. Focused, of course, manually. The Pepa, i.e. the hotel, is visible through the trees.
Nights are completely silent. Dogs don't bark, there's a lot of them but they are quiet. Just a car passes from time to time (huge majority of diesels) or, more frequently, the walkers, almost until midnight. In the daylight a quad or two may pass, there are two outfits we saw renting them.
----
* from greek symposion, a feast. You'd call it a convention nowadays. A simpozijum is supposed to be educational, or an event where some expert news are revealed to attendants.
** jedinstveni matični broj građana - citizen's unique mainstream/mother/queenbee number, introduced in mid-eighties
Mentions: 22-IX-2016., čvarci, house dictionary, Joda, kajmak, narodnjaci, solitaire, spaček, Violet, in serbian