After the rain shower I went for a walk and discovered that Užice is one of the loveliest cities in Serbia, and I had some delicious food at a great restaurant that was decorated like a Serbian peasant farm house. I love culture! I got the meat platter and some cheese and Macedonian wine, as well as a dessert, all for like 8 euros. I absolutely love Serbia. Then I walked around the city and discovered things really pick up when it gets a bit later and everyone is out doing their walk-about in the city around 8pm, and after the outdoor nightclubs really pick up. It was seriously bumpin. I even sent an email to both my brother and sister about how bumpin "this town in Serbia" is but they never responded, and even scolded me later for not telling them which city, and only giving them a few hours notice.
Anyway, the next morning I got up fairly early, dined in the hotel restaurant, and then prepared to get myself out of the city. I walked to the "Orient Express" cafe, which was an old train car by the side of the river converted into a cafe for a coffee en route to the bus depot where I got on the first bus out of town heading West to Sarajevo. Getting on the bus I became acquainted with a Belgian girl who was very nice and was planning on seeing many different villages and points to note along the way and who gave me her contact information which I tucked into my book and has since joined the pile of addresses scribbled on notes from people I keep meaning to contact and then somehow don't. Don't judge me. You do it too.
The bus wound its way through fairly mountainous terrain towards Zlatibor, which had some sort of significance as a destination, and then towards the village of Mokra Gora where the Belgian girl dismounted. We also followed some train tracks where the train does a perfect figure-8 descending the mountain. I really wanted to see it, but then I realized that it probably does the figure-8 in the mountain and ultimately you just can't see anything and the hassle of getting out and then trying to get another ride would not have been worth it. So we went through the Bosnian border, where I did not get a stamp much to my dismay, and continued on.
Once in Bosnia - and by Bosnia I mean the Republika Srpska (which explains why I did not get a stamp) - the landscape was almost the same but you definitely got the feeling it was no longer really Serbia. We stopped at some roadside eatery where I snapped a few pics, and the woman beside me was hilarious and spoke a limited amount of English. I told her how much I love the Balkans and how beautiful they are, and she bellowed, "Yes, the Balkans are beautiful… BUT THE PEOPLE ARE CRAZY!!!" and then started firing her hands in gun motions up in the air and cackling. I love the Balkans so much.
Anyway, the bus dropped me off in Visegrad* and I happily got out and had a look around this adorable little city on the Drina which played such an important historical role in connecting the Sultan with his European possessions. I think.
*Yes, THAT Visegrad. Or, I guess if you're more Central European and less Ottoman, then it's the other Visegrad. In Bosnia.
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