DiSerbia

On Monday night Elias and I said our last farewells to Hungary and took another midnight-train, this time going to the Serbian capital Belgrade. Waking up whilst entering the town one thing that struck me was that for a city whose name translates into "The White City" it really isn't very white at all, but I guess "The Greyish Brown City" doesn't have the same ring to it. However my hopes and expectations for Serbia soon changed as my first conversation was the following:

Taxi Driver: "Taxi?"
Me: "No Thanks"
Taxi Driver (whilst holding both thumbs up): 'OK... Manchester United!!!"
(And no I wasn't wearing anything to give away I was a United fan, apart from the smile on my face suggesting I must live a rather satisfying life.) And from that point things have just continued as (rather surprisingly) Belgrade has proved to have the friendliest and most helpful population of the trip so far.

Walking from the train-station to our aptly named Hostel "Chillton" we were quickly reminded how hard the city had been hit during the war in the 90's. Gaping holes in vacated building loom everywhere and it is hard to understand how some houses look as if they were built yesterday whilst it's neighbour stands an empty wreck right next door.
We spent two full days enjoying all Belgrade had to offer; warm weather when the sun was up, wonderful cheap food and cheap beer, but in a few hours if everything goes to plan we will be getting into a van taking us across the Bosnian border. in order to do that we need to catch some shut-eye though so....