26-VI-2013.
Amazingly, I managed to get some good three to four hours of sleep. We got up between 2:30 and 3:00, gradually, so not to create a queue at the bathroom. Stanley got my old sweaters and her old coat to wrap the brandy (Go's 27 year old loza) and the cherry pekmez so it doesn't spill while being shoved around at the airports.
We got to the airport on time - driving through downtown Belgrade is a breeze before 6:00 when the streets aren't crowded - and got Stanley through the process without a hitch.
Then we drove to Zajač, where dad was staying for almost a week. As usual, he made a plan for us, although we weren't too happy about staying that long (breakfast at uncle Staja, then lunch at auntie Janja). However, her husband got seriously ill, some viral infection on top of his jaw surgery, eating too much and generally not taking care of himself for decades. The first of this was reason enough to skip that.
I had trouble finding uncle Staja's place - all the streets slope the same way into the main road, all look the same, and many gates on the road are actually wider than these streets. I made at least four u-turns until I got fed up with their lack of good street signs and dad's unclear instructions ("a junkyard right across", which turned to be not across the street entrance, but on the corner, and that was about the third junkyard on that side of the village). Pulled up my glasses and cell phone, dialed uncle Staja (gave up on calling dad in advance, him being almost deaf and my side being noisy with traffic), and he sent dad down.
(made this shot when she took Neša for a walk, after my nap. This is where the street gets much wider than down there.)
The breakfast had two entrees (not in american sense) - krofne and some pogačice - and then Neša and his baba were kind of chefs, cutting the salad. There was roast chicken and piglet (believe me, I know the difference between just pork and piglet), young potatoes... I wonder what would a lunch be like.
At some point čiča Rada was mentioned. Well he's here in the village presently, in the old house. So we called him, and I talked with him for a bit, and he invited me to come over but without dad. Well, I can also go full serbian spite when presented with such a challenge, so I told him it's a no go, I'm not taking it, and we didn't meet.
I crashed in the kitchen for an hour and a half, and then we suddenly took off (I seem to have had an idea that a coffee would appear, but nobody mentioned it). I drove home in one go, making a stop only to fill the tank (and that's when Neša woke up). The stop took some time, because the two young clerks (both girls with last name Training) tried to find the item code for the lighter gas in at least six ways until they found it. The barcode just didn't work.
We more or less slept the rest of the day, and didn't have any trouble getting asleep in the evening.
Mentions: auntie Janja, Gorana Sredljević (Go), loza, Nenad Berger (Neša), pekmez, pogačice, Radomir Sredljević (čiča Rada), Stanley Berger, uncle Staja, Zajač, in serbian