30 hour rush through the old capital of former Yugoslavia, a heart of history: A beautiful solo hitchhike journey through the border eventually takes me Belgrade. I say a beautiful journey alone because in the baroness of the land at the Romanian border and onward, I could still breathe tender drops of moisture between the warm air and fertile rocky earth, water accompanying me on a meditative walk through heartlands of history (and war).
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| Arriving to Belgrade on a construction worker's truck as the sun set over the Danube, catching up to late summer time clock changing |
And what a lovely city it was, smelling like life sweating on the riverside(s).
I couchsurfed with a young host, new to the site but really excited to have moved into a new place so he could more regularly participate in the community. We met up with a Couchsurfer that I met and rideshared with in Romania, where we met more local hosts and other travellers. Under gray skies, we managed to see Belgrade with rose-colored eyes. In all its grime and graffiti, it's a city divided by two rivers and an island (container of histories memories and knowledges absent from my imagination).
Within 30 hours, I would have already come and went to Belgrade, like a fairy flying into the netherlands for the amusement of time. Here, I would love to get lost again.
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