Belgrade. Yes. Belgrade.

By Joan McQueeney Mitric
Special to The Washington Post
Sunday, December 31, 2000



Remember that city you saw on TV just weeks ago? The one with the 
European-style parliament, wide boulevards and parks teeming with people, 
all of a revolutionary frame of mind? That was Belgrade. And after a decade 
of isolation and even omission from Western travel books, the White City is 
again open for visitors.

First-time travelers to this capital on the Danube won't be disappointed - 
provided they adjust expectations, understand a few things about Belgraders' 
humor and, most important, hurry.

Frankly, there have never been that many foreign visitors here. Even in the 
"good" old days of Balkan strongman Josip Broz Tito, most tourists 
high-tailed it to the Adriatic coast and never gave Belgrade a backward 
glance.

That's too bad. This is a city of lovely parks, sprawling cafes, wonderful 
open-air food markets, riverside esplanades, looping bike trails and 
pedestrian walkways, alternative theater and thriving sidewalk bazaars. For 
those prepared to look, the authentic urban chic of this capital city shines 
through its gritty, soot-stained facades.

Here, despite the ubiquitous cell phones, people still have time for each 
other; street sweepers still use brooms, not noisy leaf blowers; old people 
folk-dance by the river for the heck of it; and, best of all, eight bottles 
of pivo (beer) costs about $1.20.

But let's get one thing straight: Belgrade is not Prague or Budapest or 
Vienna. It's not even Bratislava. The same lovely river, the Danube, waltzes 
through each city. But unlike the above cities, Belgrade's downtown was 
heavily bombed by both the Nazis and the Allies during World War II. Classic 
gray Stalinist block architecture, now nicely dusted by years of coal-fired 
furnaces and auto emissions, filled in many of the holes. On my first visit 
as a student in 1967, I snidely dubbed Belgrade the "ugliest European 
capital."

But my idea of a good time and a proper travel destination has changed. 
Older and wiser, I now place a higher premium on friends and authenticity.

You'll like the people. Balkan humor is typically quite dark and very 
self-deprecating, and every political crisis generates a barrage of instant 
jokes. Most recently, Yugoslavs observing our national electoral nightmare 
offered to send election monitors to the United States and joked that former 
Yugoslav president Slobodan Milosevic would be glad to step into the power 
vacuum, "provided he did not have to share the presidency with Clinton."

Yugoslavs are also notorious for their generosity. Even on salaries of $40 a 
month, they will try to pay for your lunch, drinks or coffee while you are 
"in town." It is an issue of national pride. So visitors have to fight it 
out with friends sometimes when the check arrives, or figure out other ways 
to repay their copious hospitality.

Partly due to its isolation and neglect, Belgrade - and indeed, all of 
Serbia - has more than just the veneer of a "real place." Most Serbs live 
and work to keep themselves going, not to rip off tourists. Example: In a 
recent month-long visit, I never once was cheated while taking cabs, despite 
my mangled attempts at Serbo-Croatian street names. In fact, I felt so bad 
when a three-mile ride across town cost less than $1 that I routinely added 
a 25-cent tip.

Maybe this don't-soak-the-tourist ethic will evaporate as Serbia is 
Westernized. It's been three months since the breaching of the parliament 
that ousted Milosevic, yet already the city's best hotels are packed with 
potential investors, international bankers, foreign journalists and assorted 
do-gooders.

My Serbian friends worry that Belgrade is about to be "chichi-fied." Only 
half-joking, they point to Sarajevo, the capital of neighboring 
Bosnia-Herzegovina, where they say the espresso-and-latte crowd has taken 
over, leaving little room for the heavily silted specialty called Turkish 
coffee. Years ago, McDonald's moved into Belgrade; now fast-food franchises 
are mushrooming. Cities like Sabac, Novi Sad and Nis all have burger joints 
- which is a pity, because the delectable Yugoslav version of a grilled meat 
sandwich, pljeskavica, is far superior, as is the bread it is served on.

So go soon, before the transition to a homogenized, white-bread, bland-beer 
state is complete. Here a few spots to hit.


Revolution and Parks

Tasmajdan and Pionirski parks, centrally located, offer a green refuge in 
summer and a rendezvous for lovers year-round. They are also conveniently 
near St. Mark's Cathedral and just off Boulevard of the Revolution from the 
Skupstina, or federal parliament, which was stormed, looted and smoked out 
Oct. 5 as a symbol of Milosevic's 13 years of misrule.

This spectacle was amazing to witness. For one thing, the throng of 
900,000-plus was remarkably well behaved, save for a small band of vandals 
who swiped furniture from parliament, stripped the walls of portraits and 
set fire to selective rooms. When their new president, Vojislav Kostunica, 
asked them to return the looted souvenirs, many complied, hauling back coat 
racks, paintings and upholstered chairs. When he asked them to clean up 
Belgrade, they did. In fact, if you want to snap photos of the smoked-out, 
windowless parliament, hurry. Construction workers, glazers and art 
historians are fast at work erasing the damage.

So normal were things immediately after Belgrade's "democracy riot" that the 
25-year-old Honey Fair in Tasmajdan Park proceeded on cue. Each October, 
about 130 beekeepers from all over Serbia gather here to sell acacia, 
chestnut, clover, wildflower and forest honey. People bring jugs from home 
or cart away six-liter packs of the golden nectar. The price is fixed ($2.20 
per liter), so the fair is a competition of taste, color and aroma rather 
than price. Along with bee pollen, bees' wax, honeycomb and various potions 
alleged to boost the immune system or act as aphrodisiacs, there are soaps, 
medicinal creams and honey-based cosmetics.

Even if you don't make it to the honey festival, the leafy park is worth a 
visit. In fact, its Posljedni Sans (Last Chance) cafe is a favorite of 
Belgrade night owls.

Heading toward the Danube, the New Cemetery on Roosevelt Street is also 
worth checking out. Lindens and poplars line the wide avenues of this 
restful park, setting off a stunning collection of gravestones, monuments 
and mausoleums, some more than 150 years old. Handcrafted wrought-iron 
benches, fences and flower urns complete the decidedly Old World setting. 
The graveyard is a favorite trysting spot, as well as a place for Sunday 
walks.


Political Hot Spots

Spend part of a jet-lagged morning exploring Dedinje (Dead-IN-yeh), one of 
Belgrade's most-coveted zip codes. Hail a cab from any main street and ask 
the driver to take you to Uzicka Street to see Beli Dvor, the mansion where 
Yugoslavia's last king (and Tito and Milosevic) lived. Ask your driver to 
point to the tower where Milosevic is said to be squirreled away today, 
making angry calls to political cronies and plotting his next move. You can 
spot his house by the armed guards pacing out front like wind-up toy 
soldiers.

Historically, Dedinje was home to Communist elites and foreign ambassadors. 
The American ambassador's residence, abandoned in March 1999 when NATO began 
bombing, is lovely and forlorn even in its neglect. (In November, the United 
States and Yugoslavia reestablished relations.) Nearby is the Chinese 
ambassador's home, which never closed.

On the way back, drive by way of the Topcider (Taup-CHI-der) district to see 
the massive, 200-year-old plane tree in Kosutnjak Park. This ancient, 
speckled marvel is so huge its arching branches are braced. If the weather 
is good, jump into one of the old horse-drawn carriages and take a ride 
around the lush park, or stop for coffee or a visjnevaca (cherry brandy) at 
the restaurant in the woods. (Note: Watch your back. Yugoslavia's Prince 
Mihajlo Obrenovic was assassinated here in 1868.)

Still not tired? Ask the cabbie to drive by the "wedding cake" villa of 
murdered paramilitary and war criminal Zeljko Raznatovic, aka "Arkan." Your 
driver will know what you mean if you just say "Arkan" and "football" in the 
same breath. The mansion, rumored to be worth at least $1.8 million, is next 
door to the Red Star football (soccer) stadium. (Arkan was gunned down last 
January in Belgrade's Hotel Inter-Continental.)

So far, this entire ride should run under $5. If you're nice, the cabbie 
might even throw in a ride up Kneza Milosa, where the American Embassy, its 
front spray painted with anti-NATO graffiti and shuttered until 
mid-November, is being refurbished. Around the corner on Nemanja Street, 
check out the skeletal remains of the Yugoslav army headquarters and the 
Ministry of Defense, monuments to NATO precision bombing.


Markets, Cafes, Night Life

Take an hour or two to visit the sprawling open-air market known as Kalenic 
Pijaca (Cal-in-IT-ch Pea-AHT-sa), the best theater in town. (Fridays and 
Saturdays are livliest.) Stroll idly through the maze of stalls with their 
mounds of seasonal vegetables, cones of farm-fresh eggs, heaves of 
hazelnuts, wreaths of garlic, bags of hand-rolled noodles and sheets of 
pastry dough, and you can't miss the color and vitality of the farm culture 
here. Buy flowers for your hotel room (or your hostess) from a babushka on 
the southwest perimeter or pick up a grilled chicken for an afternoon picnic 
in the Kalemegdan fortress park on the Danube.

Check out the vendors selling antiques, where a finely turned walnut beveled 
mirror, a 1920s French watch, filigreed cigarette cases and a vintage blue 
World War I brocaded wool vest were among recent finds. Haggling is accepted.

Don't leave Kalenic without a stop inside the cheese house. Dozens of women 
in white spoon homemade kajmak (a butter cream spread) out of wooden tubs or 
hold out slivers of beli sir (a less salty version of feta) on paddles for 
sampling. I like to go here with my Serbian friend, Vojin, a regular. He 
knows almost all the women and sweet-talks those he doesn't. Vendors compete 
for his purse. And anyway, men get the best morsels here.

If you want to grab lunch or a quick coffee, try the nearby Kalenic cafe, a 
venerable joint just across Maksima Gorka. The chicken griller (or anyone, 
really) can point the way.

After a nap, walk toward Kalemegdan Park via Knez Mihailova, the bustling 
pedestrian street with its stream of people, statuesque Balkan beauties and 
lively cafes. This walkway, with its lovely old vaulted buildings, gives 
visitors an idea of what Belgrade could look like with a little paint and 
attention.

If it's cold, you'll smell chestnuts roasting on small grills. Art galleries 
abound, as do humorous postcards, many of them pointedly political. About 
halfway down on the right, opposite a sparkling fountain, are the remains of 
the American Cultural Center and Library. Trashed during the first days of 
the NATO bombing, it waits to be resuscitated. Nearby, at 49 Knez Mihailova, 
is the headquarters of Otpor, or Resistance, the student movement credited 
with mobilizing opposition to the Milosevic regime using satiric street 
theater and grass-roots movement.

Just steps beyond the fountain, stop at the Pecina (Cave) stand for the best 
popcorn in town and continue to the Kalemegdan Park and Fortress at the end 
of the pedestrian street. Stroll through its underground military museum 
before catching the sunset on one of the park's numerous riverside benches.

Save one night for Skadarlija, a lively street for strolling, eating and 
listening to folk music. It's an easy 10-minute walk down Francuska Street 
from Trg Republike, ground zero for most major political demonstrations. 
Turn right off at Jevremova Street and walk two blocks until you hit 
cobblestones (note: They're hell on heels). You can buy sandwiches or flaky 
pita sa visnjama (cherry strudel) to eat on the run, or sling back a few 
brews in the nearby beer hall.

Or, for a quiet nook with political implications and good soup, veal cutlets 
and stews, head for the Filosofski Fakultet's courtyard cafe, just off Knez 
Mihailova on Djure Jaksic, where numerous anti-regime protests began.

Today, the most revolutionary thing there are the low prices.


Joan McQueeney Mitric is a Washington writer who has traveled to
Belgrade for 30 years.


----------------------------------------------------------------


2001 The Washington Post Company

DETAILS Belgrade

Sunday, December 31, 2000;



GETTING THERE: Thanks to Serbia's October revolution and the loosening of 
decade-old economic sanctions, many Western airlines (and Yugoslav Airlines) 
now fly directly to Belgrade from most major European cities. From 
Washington, Swissair flies to Belgrade via Zurich for about $815 round trip. 
For those who enjoy rail travel, several trains run daily from Budapest, for 
about $40 one way, and take about six hours.


VISAS: Yugoslavia normalized diplomatic relations with NATO countries Nov. 
16, which means tourist visas are available at the Yugoslavia Embassy in 
Canada (17 Blackburn Ave., Ottawa, Ontario KIN 8A2, 613-233-6289). The 
Washington embassy (see below) is open but is not yet processing visas; it 
hopes to be fully functioning by early 2001. Tourist and business visas may 
require proof of an itinerary or hotel reservation, plus $45. Ask for a 
multiple-entry visa to increase your flexibility to visit Croatia or Greece.


HEALTH AND SAFETY: Belgrade is remarkably safe, even for a woman walking 
alone at night. In 30 years of visits, I have never felt afraid or been 
threatened. However, hospitals are woefully short of basic medical supplies. 
Bring necessary medications and copies of prescriptions.


CURRENCY: As of mid-November, there were no ATMs in Yugoslavia, and most 
people were still changing foreign currency into dinars using one of the 
ubiquitous lenders whispering "devize, devize" ("currency"). Many downtown 
cafes also change money as do new state-run exchange offices. U.S credit 
cards are not currently honored, but both the credit and exchange policies 
are under review by the new government and foreign banks are scurrying to 
open Belgrade branch offices. So bring cash - but stay tuned.


WHERE TO STAY: Hotel Moskva (1 Balkanska St., telephone 011-381-11-686-255) 
is the hotel of choice for old Balkan hands. Built in 1906 in the heart of 
pre-World War I Belgrade, it's the best bet for those who wish to be in the 
middle of the action and don't mind putting up with the eccentricities of 
this historic hotel, like squeaky parquet floors and step-up baths in some 
rooms. Rates start at $75 per night.

Other in-town options include Hotel Splendid, a small, intimate place in the 
city center with nice park views (5 Dragoslava Jovanovica, telephone 
011-381-11-323-5444; rates from $40), or the Excelsior (5 Kneza Milosa, 
telephone 011-381-11-323-1381; from $70), near the U.S. Embassy. Business 
travelers who need high-end amenities often head to the Hyatt Regency (5 
Milentija Popovica, 800-633-7313; from $220), on the dull side of the river 
in New Belgrade.


WHERE TO EAT: For the kebab-like grilled meat specialties called cevapcicior 
raznjice, try Orac, a local hangout on 81 Marsala Tolbuhina, not far from 
Kalenica Market. It does a good job with roasted pepper and cheese salads 
(sopska) as well.

For wine in an ice bucket and gourmet desserts, go to Sindjelic (off Stevana 
Prvovencanog Street), favored by Belgrade celebrities. Order the corn bread 
and cheese appetizer (proja i kajmak) and grilled meatballs studded with 
shreds of ham (cacanski ustipci). Tip: Split entrees; portions are huge.

Two higher-end choices are Porto, at the far end of Francuska Street, and 
Bevanda, at 51 Pozarevacka. Both offer exceptional seafood, and Porto has a 
wonderful cold appetizer buffet with 15 salads, garlicky squid, grilled 
shrimp and an eggplant and roasted pepper spread called ajvar. Dinner for 
three at Bevanda, with two bottles of wine, was under $60.

For the best food and sunset combo, head for the renovated Trdjava 
restaurant inside the Kalemegdan citadel. The Sava and Danube rivers join 
forces in front of your table, and the food is also nothing to scoff at.


STAYING IN TOUCH: You can plug in for a reasonable fee (about $2 for 30 
minutes) at one of Belgrade's four cyber cafes. Plato (just off Knez 
Mihailova on Vase Carapica) is one of the most popular, with food, books and 
billiards on offer.


INFORMATION: Embassy of the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, 202-332-0333

-- Joan McQueeney Mitric