Saturday 13th September

In the morning, after a breakfast of hot milk (sweetened), and brown bread, we went sight-seeing with Nehat.  He took us to see the museum, situated in a fort (partly Roman) overlooking the town.  The museum, however, was mainly devoted to photographs of partisans, in Yugoslavias various struggles for independence.  Our host pointed out one partisan leader, whom his father had fought against in 1903 – his father being in the Turkish army for 7 years. 



With Nehat, by Roman Fort, Skopje

With Nehat, Skopje

 

Macedonian Lady, Skopje

We then visited the Roman part of the fort, an Orthodox Church, and the Gypsy Quarter of the town.  The latter was most fascinating, as the costume of the people was most colourful – with the women in bright, turkish type trousers.  Our host refused to believe that my ancestors were Romany!

After a good, highly seasoned lunch at our hosts home, we presented sweets to the children, and then said farewell. 

We walked to the outskirts of the town and then accepted a lift in a horse-drawn cart for a few kilometres.  We followed this by a lift in lorry to Titov Veles – where we were unsuccessful in locating the official camping site shown on the map, so we walked out of town and pitched tent by the river Vardar. 

Owing to the fact the clocks do not vary from England it gets dark about 6pm.  We retired early – but unfortunately I had a slight nightmare – and according to my friend – I lept out of the tent, yelling abuse at the communists!  I think actually it was the noise of a passing train that startled me!

Friday 12th September

We departed from Leskovac and managed to get a lift in a lorry to Dzep.  We paused for a while, and lunched by a spring.  We then got a lift into Skopje in one of two cars belonging to a party of German, Italian and one English youths. 

At Skopje we walked to the Municipal Park Official Camping Site and prepared to pitch our tent.  However, the kindly young Turk, who had directed, or rather who had shown us the way to the site, then insisted that we sleep at his house.  We accepted, and were taken to his little home and introduced to his crippled friend, our host’s sister, her children and his younger brother.  We were then served with the customary coffee together with glasses of water.

With Turkish Friends at Skopje

Our host, Nehat Raius, spoke a little English, French and German – also a little Latin and Italian – so we were able to converse quite easily.

He took us out to a restaurant for an excellent meal followed by a visit to one of the local cinemas to see “Broken Lance”.  The film was, of course, in English but with Serbian sub-titles – and was excellent. 

Our host told us, in the cinema queue, that he was anti-communist – his reason appeared to be that they didn’t pay him enough!  He is a clerk and is paid 10,000 dinars per month (bread is 50 dinars for a large loaf, and cheese 420 per kilo – while lambretta cost 300,000, and auto-cycles 150,000 dinars).  We slept that night in a pleasant little room, together in a narrow bed.

Thursday 11th September

I awoke with a hangover, and was shortly afterwards sick.

We said goodbye to our farmer friends, and thanked them for their generosity – in fact we felt a little embarrassed at not having spent a penny – although they had repeatedly refused our offers of payment.  We then managed to get a lift in a land-rover *, followed by an unexpected lift in a coach taking a party of farmers touring!

The coach took us to Nis, where after a short sightseeing trip we travelled south in a lorry – which unexpectedly broke down after a few kilometres.  It was pouring with rain – but we managed to get another lift in a lorry to Leskovac, in which I travelled sitting on top of a block of ice!  Being so wet and cold we decided not to attempt camping, but to book into the hotel there, which we promptly did!

* Walking for a while after the land-rover trip we met an old Serbian who spoke quite good French, and then a Serbian couple who insisted on giving us a couple of bunches of grapes.  Everyone is most kind, but curious!

We shared a room with a young German from Stuttgart. Needless to say, above the reception desk was a huge photograph of Marshall Tito.

Wednesday 10th September



Burial Place of the Serbian Kings

We left the camp and caught a tram into Belgrade – had a look around, and then departed by means of a lorry which two friendly Yugoslav youths obtained for us.  We then obtained a lift in a van by five farmers from Subotica – few Serbs and one Hungarian.  A bottle of schnapps was passed around again and again before we stopped by the roadside to change a wheel, and have a meal *.  The food they brought with them – bread, bacon, pork etc. – excellent!

They then took us to Topola, where the Serbian Kings are buried in an excellent Greek Orthodox Church, which contains a vast amount of mosaic.



With Farmer Friends Outside

After this we stopped at a couple of places for drinks, before finally arriving at Cuprija.  Here we went into the café-courtyard and treated to an excellent dinner – fried steak, peppers, roast pork and bread, together with numerous beers!  We were entertained by a couple of female singers together with a small band.  The songs were Serbian and very good!

We sat and drank and drank and ate nuts until about midnight, then we removed to a near-by indoor-restaurant, where we had more drinks and nuts.  At the latter place we were entertained by a very sexy Serbian singer.  She sang many stirring Serbian songs, very rapidly, mainly to one of our party, a Serbian with a typical waxed moustache, who kept buying her songs.  He must have given her over a thousand dinars during the time we were there!  We sat and ogled, and tapped our feet furiously – I felt like dancing on the table!

We then removed to a private house, where beds were ready for us.   

* When we stopped for the snack, the bottle of schnapps was passed to a passing Serbian peasant and his wife for a swig!

Tuesday 9th September

We departed from Zagreb and caught the 8am train for Belgrade – which departed an hour late!  Everyone on the platform fought like hell to get on it – sailors fighting old ladies and vice versa! We had to stand for about half of the seven hour journey – which was most boring!  On arrival at Belgrade we proceeded via tram to the camping site – in a wood just outside the city.  The camp was excellent – and equipped with restaurant, shop, showers etc.  We were guarded throughout the night by a sentry with a rifle and dog.

Monday 8th September

We arose early and assisted the English couple change a wheel in their car.  We were highly amused by the antics of the Wardens pet pip, Alsatian, and kitten who kept playing.  The English couple gave us a lift to Zagreb, stopping for half an hour in Maribor for the tyre to be repaired. 

The journey to Zagreb was awful, and lasted five hours for the 90 odd miles.  The road was terribly dusty and almost disappeared in sections.  We had to tie handkerchiefs around our mouths – and we became completely covered in a film of white dust, which even got behind our sunglasses! We eventually joined the main highway from Ljubljana to Zagreb, and found large parties of young people (male and female) working on the road, equipped with many Yugoslav flags and communist banners.  Only the right hand half of the road appeared to be complete, although it was clearly shown on the map!  Eventually even that half petered out, and we were forced to go cross country to join another road into the city of Zagreb. 

We booked into the Studentski Dom (hostel) and then washed all the dust off.  we went into the town for sight-seeing and a meal.  We saw St. Catherine’s Church, the Cathedral, the Arts Pavilion, and the Stone Gate.  We paused at the delightful shrine of the homeland where Maurice lit a candle.

We said farewell to the English couple in the evening, as we intended to leave early in the morning.

There is a complete lack of cars in the country, fortunately, and this allows the crowds to swarm the streets without troubling traffic.

Everywhere in the shops we saw portraits of Marshall Tito! In our hostel also - a bust of Tito on the landing!

The people don’t appear to be as poor as I had expected, and most of them were smartly dressed.

We were amazed to see quite large crowds, and queues at all the bookshops – obviously everyone must thirst for knowledge!

* We found it impossible to explain to the Yugoslavs that we hitch-hiked all the way from Germany.  They did not understand what hitch-hiking was – and of course they could not believe that we had walked all the way!  They really believed that the English couple had driven us all the way – although we continually denied this!

Sunday 7th September

We attended the morning service at the Catholic Church in Bruck and then proceeded south via Graz.

About 20 kilometres from the frontier we were fortunate enough to get a lift to Maribor in Yugoslavia in a Shooting Brake  with an Austrian family.  We were held up at the frontier post by much red tape, for about an hour.  As the various forms were not printed in German we were able to assist the family, with whom we were traveling, in completing theirs!



Upon arrival in Maribor we asked a policeman for the camping place and were directed to a spot some six kilometres outside town.  We were followed by a couple of very curious and laughing girls on bicycles all the way!!

Upon arrival at the camping site, the Warden explained in German that it was too cold to camp outside, so he allowed us to sleep in the changing room in the boat home, on the River Drava.

We purchased bread and a bottle of wine from the little shop which he operated, and then enjoyed a well-earnt meal!

We then had some schnapps and other drinks.  We treated one of the Yugoslavs there to a drink, and soon had him slapping out backs and calling us “comrade” and saying “Yugoslav gute! England gute! Russia nicht gute!” About that time, a young English married couple arrived (the only other campers) and they joined us later with some Yugoslavs in the boat house for drinking and singing.  The Yugoslavs sang many rather mournful songs, and we of course had to sing one or two English songs, such as “Speed Bonny Boat”.   We soon got the impression that they thought Russia wanted to grab Yugoslavia! They were extremely hospitable, and we were treated to many drinks.  There were many laughs and a great deal of joviality, despite the large portrait of Tito hanging up on the wall.

We said good night at 10 o’clock, as we hoped to make an early start in the morning, but the rest of the party kept celebrating until the early hours of the morning.*

Most of the Yugoslavs spoke German, and one, a schoolteacher, had been in the Wehrmacht during the war and had been captured by the English.  He said that he was well –fed, and unlike the prisoners of the Russians – who starved!