A rather late start but then again, we did have a late night. Yesterday we parked up and had a walk around Openac park. We discovered the park stays open until late and as the rain subsided it was a perfect opportunity to explore and stretch our legs. The fortified park is one huge hill and right on the top the stunning marble Karađorđe Mausoleum Church of St George. As we step inside a young girls asks us for an entrance fee. As Craig checks his wallet we realise we do not have enough Serbian Dinar (left it the van!). Thankfully, the girl accepts Euro’s and she explains the €3 ticket enables you access to all 3 buildings within the park.  

We step inside to a church covered floor to ceiling in magnificent paintings and frescos. With religious icons around the pillars, biblical scenes in every archway and holy son of god and his disciples in the domed ceiling (click photo to enlarge).

Then we stepped downstair to the crypt and wow. It was not like any crypt I had seen before. It was softly lit with green, red and blue lanterns. Apart from the green marble pillars and pale marble floor every inch of the cross shaped crypt was covered in vivid coloured mosaics. It was the most amazing space and I could have sat there for hours.  Just as I was leaving, I felt something fall at my feet. I look down and pick up a tiny blue mosaic. Then I look up and see the fresco of Jesus looking down. I adore gems, stones, crystals and rocks, so needless to say this little mosaic slipped in my pocket.

Opposite the church, King Peter’s House. A white building housing a small collection of pictures and portraits of the king and his blood line. The assistant informed us the king built the house as working quarters but he liked it so much he stayed there to supervise the construction of the church. Founded by his grandson King Peter I in 1912 and completed in 1930. The estate still belongs to the Serbian Royals although the monarchy was abolished in 1945 by the Communist party.  From a Serbian point of view they still hold high regards for the Royal Princes and hope one day the return to a monarchy.

By the time we finishe a tour of the grounds, feed a tiny stray pup, munch on some cheese and crackers it was gone midnight. A good nights sleep but when we woke to heavy rain and more thunder, it was a good opportunity to stick the head under the sheets. Mac n Tosh didn’t object to be used as furry hot water bottle for added snuggles.

In the clouds

By lunch, the thick dark grey clouds thinned to a white blanket. Time to hit the road. The green and rolling countryside shared between Topola, Gornji Milanovac, and Cacak is quite distinctively lovely and hardly anyone outside the area knows it.  It is uncontrolled and natural with hedgerows, ancient monasteries, stone barns, verges full of nodding wildflowers, sheep roaming over lush fields, village shops and the inevitable scrap yard. The architecture, too, is different from anything we have seen so far: rusty iron fencing and rugged houses with tiled roofs that seem to have bushy undergrowth piled on top of them.

There is evidence that their application to join the EU is being compromised by various life-improvement campaigns, from tidiness to road safety. Every day since we arrived in Serbia we have seen police pulling vehicles to one side to check ID and vehicle inspections.  The road safety campaign extends in to villages as well as cities. As we drive across the countryside, scrapyards form part of the landscape. We do wonder if this booming trade is at its peak? The change in driving regulations should improve road safety and technically a decline in scrapped cars. 

Getting Hammered

Inland the road surface is good, better than you’d expect in such a remote place. The reason, of course, is that the highway is hardly used by heavy vehicles, lorries and industrial transport.  Just the odd tractor and residential car.  Fuel stations are plenty and they sell LPG as well as petrol and diesel.  The desire to join the EU is even more clear when we fill up at a local garage. An independent regulator turns up to do random fuel quality test. “A welcome change” the busy garage owner tell us. His words are reassuring given we’ve just filled Vin with 30 litres! They take card as well as cash, euro as well as Serbian Dinar, and if I am honest, any currency as long as it can be exchanged on the black market.

As we head west more stunning monasteries appear out of nowhere. Soon we’re running, deeper into the Ovcar and Kablar mountain range.  The valley of the normally sedate Morava river is fast flowing. All the rains have washed the saturated land in to the river, turning it chocolate brown with swirls of debris and rubbish. The countryside narrows into a deep, forested gorge with tiny shacks and batik houses along the banks. A rusty bridge with a swinging tyre and rope incongruously attached. A little further along the river a heavily guarded dam and hydroelectric power station. 

We pull in to the spa town of Ovcar Kablar, its deserted and very tired.  We scour for a place to park to have a spot of lunch but rubbish tips, deserted petrol station, scrappy dogs and a vandalised bus shelter don’t quite complement our appetite. Mac n Tosh watch a young pup play with a plastic bottle as we roll over the bridge and back on to the main road.  Just as everything seems to be getting steep and narrow, the walls of the gorge widen. Sadly, excessive quarrying is destroying the rock face as well as polluting the river.

Several hours later, I pass out. Craig takes the hint that I am famished (he can go days without food) and pulls in to a car park of some rundown industrial unit. A marked improvement on the spa town! We rustle up pasta dish made with tomatoes, garlic, chilli, herbs and some reconstituted meat product we picked up in Croatia. We have no idea of its origins but it looks like a cross between spam and corned beef with the odd white fleck.  Covered in sauce it tastes just fine.  We chomp away whilst watching people appear out of nowhere.  Unique, one of a kind cars come and go. Badged up as a Skoda, with the wing of a picasso, door from a corsa and bonnet from truck. Clearly they take MOT and insurance seriously. 

lunch time view

An hour or so later and we pass the sprawling industrial city of Uzice. But soon we are back in to windy country lanes. Deep and almost sensuous silence, hemmed in by the thick forest walls of a valley. Every slope is ready to be cultivated and plastic packing boxes highlight the edge of the fields. We admire the lush, plump berries of varying variety. An old ramshackle building flings open its doors and welcomes a mini bus of workers. But not before they wave and welcome us to their town.

Rising high in the distance, the white pyramid peak of Kadinjaca Memorial catches our eye. Our route allows us to stop and admire the strange shaped, communist memorial.

The views out to Bajina Basta are beautiful but tainted with yet more rain clouds.  As the distant thunder roars, we continue with the last leg of our journey.  We rise and fall through wispy clouds as we meander through lush valleys and all the way to Bajina Basta.

A quick stop at the local supermarket for some bread is rewarded well. A local shop assistant speaks good English and her curiosity as to why we are visiting her village attracts a crowd. After a 30 minute firing round of questions of where, why and how, the assistant delivers her thanks. She nips in to the back and swaps my 2 day old loaf of bread for a special one. One still piping hot from the oven with a crispy crust. It smells divine. I pick up a 2 litre bottle of beer, chocolate bar, homemade lemonade and 2 apples, all for the price of £2.25, bargain.  I scurry back to Vin and we find a good parking spot for the night. We devour our hot bread with lashings of butter and jam whilst we disappear in a mass of dense rainclouds. 

Our Bumble wild camping spot Bajina Basta N043.974558, E019.557434