Continuing east, with stops in Zagreb and Belgrade

Hey friends, in order to catch up on my travels, here's another post about my time in Croatia and Serbia before hitting up Romania.

Strukli in Zagreb

To get to Zagreb, I used Prevoz, a rideshare service similar to Blablacar. The drive through Slovenia to Croatia was beautiful, and it confirmed that I definitely need to come back and spend more time exploring outside of the city.

I arrived in Zagreb late afternoon and was welcomed by my CS host Matea, who, with her 12 year old daughter Kaya and 13 year old son Jackson (and dog Choksa!), lives in an apartment close to the city center. Matea is Croatian and married an American after attending college in the U.S. Both Kaya and Jackson were born there, but they moved to Croatia after their father passed away. Their story is a very powerful one, and the family is incredibly tight-knit. I was very glad to get to know them. Matea loves to cook and especially bake, but she wasn’t feeling well when I was visiting, so it’s already been decided that I will return to Zagreb to bake with her.

Selfies with Jackson and Kaya

In similar fashion as past cities, I wandered around Zagreb for a day. The main square is bustling with shops, the tram stop, and a small market. Close by is an open air market that is open daily. It was fun to browse the fruits, vegetables, and cheese, but it made me miss going to the Mill City or Kingfield farmers markets to pick up fresh produce and immediately returning home to roast veggies or make a frittata or pasta sauce.

I visited the main churches and cathedrals, as well as the Museum of Broken Relationships, recommended to me by the British couple on the ride back from Bled. The Museum is unorthodox, filled with placards telling the story of a relationship gone sour. Each story is accompanied by the item that reminds the storyteller most of the relationship, be it a stuffed animal, sports jersey, broken champagne glass, record, etc. The stories are from all over the world and written in Croatian and English. It was a very moving museum- some stories were quite sad, though many were lighthearted and funny.

Strukli!

After the museum I headed to La Struk, at the recommendation of my CS hosts. They specialize in strukli, a Croatian dish with layers of cheese and pastry. I ordered a baked strukli made with salty cheese, and it arrived to my table piping hot, the cheese still bubbling from being in the oven. I was pretty hungry and I was impatient, so I may have burned my mouth several times while trying to eat it :) needless to say, it was delicious. After the strukli I stopped by the market in the square and picked up a square of Gibanica, a traditional cake made with nuts, cinnamon, cheese, and fruit On the way back to Matea’s I walked through the main mall area towards the train station. The city center of Zagreb is quite beautiful, with old imperial style buildings. Farther out, there are hundreds of brutalist-style apartment buildings- blocs- dotting the skyline. They were mostly built in the 60s and 70s to accommodate workers moving into Zagreb. 

Hike up the mountain, green bean soup

View from the castle at the top of the mountain

On my second full day in Zagreb, I went hiking up to visit the castle with Jackson. He had the day off from school because it was the school anniversary- my host tells me it’s very common in Croatia to celebrate the founding of the school. I wonder why they don’t that in the U.S. Jackson led me from tram to bus to mountain, and we hiked up to where the fortress was. It was a beautiful view from the top. On the way back, we took a different way down the mountain, and ended up walking quite a long distance back to the tram. While it was a long walk, it was interesting to walk through a different part of Zagreb, mostly with large concrete apartment buildings, some still under construction. When we finally got back, I was pretty hungry. Fortunately, Matea’s brother dropped by some green bean and dumpling soup his wife made. I had two bowls :)

Mirogoj Cemetery

The next day I checked out the Mirogoj Cemetery before stopping at the market in the center to buy some cheese and bread for lunch for the blablacar to Belgrade. I only had 20 kuna left- about 3 dollars. The cheese woman did not speak a lot of English and wanted 20 kn for the cheese- I tried to explain to her that I still needed to buy bread. Finally, I pulled up the Google Translate app on my phone (I’ve downloaded several language dictionaries for offline use) to get my point across. She reluctantly went down to 15 kn, and I was able to buy the cheapest loaf of fresh bread at one of the bazillion bakeries across the city. The loaf was about 75 cents, but I’m guessing it would cost at least 2 dollars or more in the U.S.

In the early afternoon, I met my blablacar to take me to Belgrade. The van contained one Slovenian, two Serbs and two Croats. Although they technically speak separate languages, the languages are pretty similar. It was interesting to listen to them talk, even though I barely speak a word in any Balkan language. I hope to work on this a bit when I’m farther south next month.

Smoked Sausage in Belgrade

We arrived in Belgrade in the evening, and one of my blablacar companions walked me to the bus station (carrying my backpack with one arm- I bet he’s still sore) and gave me directions to my CS host’s apartment. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a foreigner, an American, a woman, or a combination of the three, but I’ve seen nothing but helpfulness and generosity in the people I’ve met on this trip. It makes my life a lot easier navigating this new territory.

My CS host Ivan lives in New Belgrade, an area that developed during the housing and workforce boom of the 60s, similar to Zagreb. He bought his apartment earlier this year, and is still finishing it. He explained to me that he likes the concrete blocs better- they’re sturdier than newer buildings. He said some of his friends live in newer buildings and they complain that they can hear everything- the neighbors, the plumbing- through the walls. I suppose it’s like living in FloCo versus the Chateau.

Ivan and I walked along the Danube River to Zemyn, another area outside of Belgrade. There were a lot of restaurants set up along the river- on boats sort of, and there were a lot of people out. We had some good conversations, and I asked him about the bus system in Belgrade. In Zagreb, it seemed like 80% of people did not pay when they got on the tram or the bus- they just passed through the turnstyle. Matea’s children were very used to this system, but I felt strange hopping on without buying a ticket. I asked Ivan if it was similar in Belgrade (the man who walked me to the bus told me not to worry about paying for it) and he told me that since the city hired outside contractors to police the buses, and the money is redirected away from public transportation improvements, people have been refusing to pay for rides, as a sort of civil disobedience.

In Zemyn, we ate at a traditional Serbian restaurant. Ivan ordered us Domaća dimljena kobasica, a type of smoked sausage, along with roast potatoes, a cucumber/tomato salad, and bread. It was quite good. I was hungry after the blablacar, and it was late, so it was an ideal meal. When we got back to his place he gave me some cherry liqeur that his uncle made. The next morning, I woke up early, ate some muesli that former French couchsurfers left behind, and hopped on the bus to take the train to Timisoara, Romania. The train station was not the main one, and I had some difficulty finding it, mainly because it was practically unmarked. I didn’t take a picture since I was laden with my bags, but here’s a Google streetview image of the front:



You see that little sign at the top? You can't see that from the sidewalk.

Regardless, I was able to communicate enough with the clerk to buy my ticket to Timisoara, and then I was on my way! It was about two hours to Vrsac, where I transferred trains, then another two hours before I reached my Romanian destination.

Soon to come, a blog post on my first few days in a new county, in which I eat pork ribs for the first time in I don't know how long, and meet a new friend who lets me cook for her (yayy!)

Ciao for now,

Sophie