Sorry. No offence, Serbia, but as our train trundled across the border to Croatia, and a fast engine got hooked on with some additional carriages, we sped off towards Zagreb and I couldn’t help but feel that we were back in civilisation, or at least back in Europe.
Which is not to say that Belgrade was not nice. They are really trying to modernise the place, there is a lot of history and culture, and the place comes alive after dark, but still the inefficiency is palpable. We hoofed our bags up the hill to the main square, bought some lunch at a bakery, and hopped on a trolley bus in the general direction of the new main train station. 15 minutes later we hopped off when my GPS told me we were there, but couldn’t find a sign anywhere. Not surprising really. It’s only been the main train station for a couple of weeks, even though it’s been under construction since the 60s. That’s why it’s called Belgrade Central!
Found it eventually. A couple of underground platforms down some unmarked stairs beneath a construction zone. Probably a parking lot being built. Coffee from a vending machine.
Much to our surprise and delight, a couple of air conditioned carriages arrived, Slovakian carriages we think, definitely not Serbian, and we left right on time. Went one station, then stopped for a long rest.
Being only two carriages, the conductor reserved four seats for his own use, and the conductor’s assistant another four where he proceeded to unzip his bags and assemble a portable gas stove, which he duly lit and boiled water to make the conductor’s tea. Both he and the conductor got off at the border satisfied with their days work. I guess that’s how you have full employment.
Serbian border staff didn’t really seem to care that anybody was leaving the country, and just stamped everything in sight, whilst the Croatian staff were far more interested in customs formalities, pulling every large bag off the racks and examining the contents. Gave the only black (Indian) passenger the full third degree. Checked every stamp in his passport, asked lots of questions, opened all his bags, and confiscated a kitchen utensil still in its packet while delivering a stern lecture. Little ol white me didn’t even have my bag opened.
People kept getting on every station, and eventually the air-con and the toilet gave up on the load, but it was certainly better than the last couple of trips. Cyrillic alphabet has mercifully disappeared, though its surprising how quickly you adjust. The compensation though is that there is no English as a second language on any sign, so its pretty indecipherable.
Biggest surprise of the day was that we arrived on time. Amazing what a dual high speed track will do. However, we’ve fallen in to the habit of telling our hosts a late arrival time in the expectation of being late, so we ended up waiting outside for a while. The last of our long train trips, we think.
Croatia seems more ‘European’, whatever that means. People are better dressed, shops are better dressed too. Infrastructure isn’t left in an unfinished state. Grabbed some tea from the local supermarket, and spent the night catching up on things.
Did you know that barbers and hairdressers in Slavic countries are called some variation of Frizzer or Frizzerie?
Train To Zagreb
The Stove Boiling Tea For The Conductor
Raspberry Cheesecake For Morning Tea