Bombed in Belgrade, 2005, by Andrew Dunn

From MemoryArchive

Who: Andrew Dunn
What: A Night Out
When: November 2005
Where: Belgrade, Serbia

After arriving at our Holiday Inn after dark, Britt and I got settled in our room, then went out with about 20 people in tow (never a good thing if you want to get eating/drinking accomplished in a previously un-explored foreign country). We all jumped a crowded bus with no tickets just trying to get out of the snow.

Thankfully, the bus driver was so excited to say “hello” and “thank you” to English speaking people, we were able to ride hassle free. We got off the “drivers test circle” and began to walk towards the center of town. According to locals, if you are learning to drive and make it through that circle without an accident, you will be qualified to get any license.

Unlike most European cities, where tourism is rampant around the city center, Belgrade has yet to make such an adjustment. We walked for maybe 20 minutes before we saw the first bar or restaurant that looked hospitable. Not that there were lots of creepy, uninviting places or anything like that, there was just nothing. With a bunch of whining people in tow, complaining of hunger, thirst and the cold, I began to plan on how to split off from large group and find a drink and a meal which would not result in the embarassing spectacle to which I had been party every time our whole class tried to do anything together.

I finally saw my opportunity, just a dimly light sign on a side street, and a bunch of the guys and I split off from the herd and came to what was touted as the only Irish bar in Serbia. Although I really wanted to experience an actual Serbian bar, I rationalized entering with my need to get a beer and get away from my severely dependent classmates.

We ended up having four or five beers each; 30oz Serbian brews… and no dinner. Four hours later we stumbled out and somehow made it back to the circle, where by the grace of god and capitalism, or capitalism and god as it may be, we found a golden, glowing beacon of hope: the McDonalds arches. Praise god! We have arrived! Two double-decker “McFarm Burgers” later and we were ready for a 3$ taxi ride home.

We saw no true Serbian culture that night, or the next, (we ended up at the same bar again the next night with 20 people and had a great time!). No true culture, but the reconnaissance paid off!