Serbians smoke a lot. Even on the sleeper train from Montenegro to Serbia, we noticed an increase in the already high percentage of people with cigarettes in their mouths. "No Smoking" signs were in sight everywhere on the train, but that didn't stop people from smoking by open windows. Don't people know that airborne particles passing out a window at the front of a moving vehicle often finds their way back into the vehicle through the windows at the rear? Aisha and I both woke in Belgrade with deep smokers' voices.

Belgrade isn't known for its monetary wealth or grandeur, but it more than makes up for it in character. Rather than being another sterile European city, full of restored buildings and crawling with cotton-wool-balled tourists, Belgrade is dramatically coloured by history and home to very dynamic people. Walking around, Aisha and I were constantly surprised and delighted by the random sensory experiences the city had to offer.

Sights

We did a heap of walking, much of it probably unnecessary. We were never lost, per se, but often we'd take a less than optimal route, or we'd spend time wandering around the vicinity of our target, but never quite find it. The maps we had were next to useless, and following signposts only had us walking in circles. Seeing as neither of us were well versed in the Cyrillic alphabet, street names were of no help. Public transport was a tempting alternative to walking, but there didn't seem to be a route map in existence. Eventually, my thong broke due to excessive wear.

We made sure that our walking took us past the touristy things in Belgrade - the Kalemegdan fortress and the Cathedral of Saint Sava. However, it was the incidental sights that were most interesting.

Numerous buildings that were hit by NATO bombs in 1999 were still standing in the city centre, rather than being demolished or repaired.

In an attempt to cross the Sava river into Novi Beograd (New Belgrade), we accidentally stumbled into the Belgrade ghetto, located around the train storage and switching yards. Rubbish, graffiti, abandoned buildings, smashed windows, grey dirt roads, ramshackle houses and shifty looking people made us slightly nervous as we passed through.

The south east bank of the Sava was home to rusting hulks of barges, dredgers and cargo ships, an impromptu ship scrapyard of sorts.

People

The folks of Belgrade were all very helpful. It wasn't uncommon for people to approach us and offer directions when we were poring over a map. Suggestions for things to do in Belgrade readily came from any Serbs we met.

People were very welcoming and friendly, too. Nikolina, one of the staff at Green Studio Hostel, was celebrating her birthday and invited us back to her apartment to party with her mates. We walked her home after her shift, and spent the night enjoying the company of the locals. It was good to chat to the Serbs, the hot topic being travel and the difficulties of getting anywhere as an ex-Yugoslavian.

Food

A massive café, restaurant, pub and club culture is present in Belgrade. Walking through the city in the middle of the day, you get the impression that nobody works; the streets are lined with people sitting down for coffee and a pastries. Old boats, converted into dining establishments, are spread along the shores of the Sava and Danube rivers. Shady terraces and cool beer lure people to the busy bars. Even the fortress, Kalemegdan, has a nightclub attached to it. Of course, Aisha and I embraced the culture, stopping to satiate ourselves whenever we felt the need.

Having eaten heaps of stodgy food through central Europe, it was refreshing to see that most restaurants in Belgrade offered a number of "salad meal" options, some of which were rather inventive. One morning, I ate a salad with mixed lettuce, avocado, radish and chicken in it, smothered in raspberry sauce and cream. A sweet chicken salad was new to me, but the tartness of the raspberries complimented the grilled chicken admirably.

As we've moved further south and east, we've noticed crepes becoming more popular on restaurant menus. In Belgrade, they were ubiquitous, available at almost every corner, much like the celebrated döner kebab. The morning after Nikolina's party, we paid Palacinkarnica Amica a visit. They served fried crepes full of delicious mixtures like beef mince, mushroom, ham, cheese and sour cream. Artery clogging, but fantastic stomach lining. Neither of us ate another meal that day.

On our final night, we splashed out and wandered down to Skadarlija, the historical Bohemian quarter of Belgrade. Skadarska street is lined with cosy restaurants serving typical Serbian fare. We sat down at Zlatni Bokal, close to a traditional Serbian folk group that serenaded us while we dined. I ate grilled skewers of paprika, onion and pork. Aisha ate a mixed meat casserole with a spiced tomato and onion sauce. To polish off the evening, we headed to the Charlie Chaplin pub that served their own microbrewed beer. It was a basic lager loaded with Cascade hops, an atypical combination, but surprisingly excellent.

Location