cruise – Allison Thurman

It’s complicated: Belgrade

Travel enriches us. It allows us to not only see new places but let go of assumptions and clichés about those places. And while I know there’s no way that one day in Belgrade makes me an authority on the city, it does give me some things to ponder.

Take Tito’s mausoleum.

long, low building with frescoes on the front, amidst extensive garden grounds — This is in the middle of an extensive park.

Life size stone sculpture of man gazing at ground seriously, wearing sweeping, serious military greatcoat — Can’t really be a dictator without at least one self-aggrandizing statue of oneself. At least Tito’s is only life-size.

Contemporary news and culture taught me that all Communist dictators were oppressive monsters who kept their citizens in perpetual fear and despair. Our guide wasn’t a fan, but insisted that, like many things in Serbia, Tito’s legacy is “complicated”.

Yes—Tito was a dictator who ruthlessly sentenced political opponents to forced labor and constrained human rights when it suited him. Yet he is still held in some regard (by my guide, and I’m guessing she’s not alone based on the large crowds at the mausoleum) because he kept Yugoslavia together, kept the Russians out, and allowed open (by Eastern Bloc standards, at least) borders.

Within sight of the this secular shrine—actually, within sight of much of Belgrade—is the astonishing Orthodox cathedral of St. Sava.

massive green domed white marble church with golden cross on top

Construction started in the 1930s and though interrupted by war, invasion, and politics, is still crawling towards completion. It’s among the largest Orthodox churches in the world, but it doesn’t need size to impress. I’d seen pictures of Orthodox iconography and frescoes, but nothing compares to the three-dimensional reality.

heavily gilt altar and screens, surrounded by frescoes and icons — If I remember correctly St. Sava’s icons and frescoes are made using medieval materials and techniques. The reason we see more gold than blue here is because while lapis lazuli was expensive and rare hundreds of years ago, it really isn’t anymore. To show wealth/prestige gold is now the obvious way to go.

vaulted, frescoed ceiling of Orthodox church over inlaid marble floor — Gilt everywhere. Photo by Charlotte Dries.

Belgrade has been destroyed and rebuilt around 40(!) times in its long history, and much of the city center is still rebuilding after the wars of the 1990s that broke up Yugoslavia. Right across from a restored 19th century train station are the ruins of the Yugoslavian Ministry of Defense, bombed out by NATO.

collapsing, bombed out building — Photo by Charlotte Dries.

I felt a little weird viewing it, though our guide pointed this out without any apparent ire (surprising [or not?] given that most of us were from NATO countries). I was even reluctant to include it in this post, but decided to leave it in because my reaction reveals some of the complicated facets of being a tourist. History is often a series of violent events, but I think the recentness of the violence got to me. The bombing was only 20 years ago, and even though this building was on the tour and the decision to leave it a ruin is deliberate I still felt like an ugly American enjoying a morbid thrill at Serbian expense.

After a very long day walking around Belgrade we walked a bit further to our one off-schedule stop: the Tesla Museum.

blacked bronze plaque with relief of Tesla's face and "Nikola Tesla Museum" in English and Serbian

It was a leeetle underwhelming, but to be fair we were also quite rushed (when the boat leaves it leaves, whether you’re on it or not). It’s only about three rooms (or at least, that’s all we had access to) and we stepped in between English-language tours. They have his ashes, as well as the safe he used in his rooms at the Waldorf Astoria and some of his characteristic gloves and hats.

bronze spherical urn — Of course Tesla’s urn looks like an atom.

large, industrial size safe — The very safe from which the U.S. government took Tesla’s papers upon his death.

gray and white gentleman's gloves, upturned bowler hat — Not sure if these are reproductions or the genuine article, but Tesla was a natty (and germaphobic) sort.

As near as we could tell most of our fellow patrons spoke English but Serbians hold him in high regard as well – he appears on their 100 dinar note and every souvenir shop we passed had a Tesla-themed something. The museum itself emphasized his technical achievements to the point that even the gift shop has scientific monographs and collections of Tesla’s correspondence instead of magnets and coffee mugs.

What followed was a mad dash back to the boat in a very fast, very economical taxi. I left Belgrade intrigued, a bit uncomfortable, and thinking of some questions to ask.

This is my last post before I take a break from the blog. I’m not sure for how long. These take a long time to write and research (even the link dumps) and between the holidays coming up and a real need to make some headway on my book, something has to give. I hope you’ll check out the archives and/or join me on social media (Twitter | Facebook | Mastodon).

unexpected Roman ruins: Viminacium

If you love Roman history you should go to… Serbia.

I know, right?

But it’s not that surprising when you realize that if Romania was named after Rome, the Romans had to go through what is now Serbia to get there (and get to everywhere else they colonized in Northern Europe). As it turns out, some 15 Roman emperors were born in what is now Serbia, and there’s ample archaeological evidence of Roman occupation.

My entire travel party was excited to see the ruin of Viminacium, a provincial outpost of the Roman Empire ca. the 1st-4th centuries C.E. I think we were all impressed. What follows is a thumbnail of what I learned on my visit, along with some of my pictures. I recommend the Itinerarium Romanum Serbiae site if you want to get into the weeds.

Viminacium was near the present-day town of Kostolac, Serbia. The archaeological site (and it is an ongoing excavation) is fairly isolated on a grassy plain. The only other nearby structure is a modern electrical plant, and it’s a bit odd to pass industrial towers belching steam to arrive in a field with only a cluster of low buildings and tents.

But oh, what you see in the tents!

mausoleum archaeological site under a tent, with above and below-ground tombs

This is the grave site and you can go right in (guided, of course). This is the largest number of graves found at a Roman site (nearly 15,000). The presence of Christian and Pagan burials side by side is noteworthy but not unheard of, and suggests that Christians and Pagans lived together in relative harmony.

skeleton with arms crossed over the chest — Christians buried with arms crossed over the chest…

skeletons with arms at its sides — …pagans with arms at sides.

I faced down another phobia (dark, small spaces) to visit to the underground mausoleums (photography not permitted). The well-preserved frescoes are worth stumbling through the dark in a crouch; I can’t imagine many Roman sites would let you get that close.

They’ve also excavated some of the baths (because the Romans everywhere loved their baths) but due to the stage of excavation this is as close as I could get:

round brick cisterns

The amphitheater is partially excavated and partially reconstructed. Not sure what I think about building modern reproductions nearly on top of the ruins, but they do illustrate how things might have looked when Viminacium was a bustling town of 40,000.

wooden amphitheater seats with stone ruins in foreground — The stone in the foreground is original.

Then on to the villa.

inner atrium of apparent Roman villa, open to the sky — Not original to the site, obviously…

Well, not quite. The Domus Scientiarum Viminacium has the floor plan of a Roman villa but is a research and conference center. The upper levels contain scientific libraries, laboratories, and accommodations for visiting scientists; the lower level is a combination of museum (open to the public) and climate-controlled storage (not so much, though I did get a glimpse). I wouldn’t mind having my corporate retreat here.

Thus far archaeologists have only excavated around 4% of Viminacium. Though described as a “colony”, the speculative city plan reveals something far more extensive, cosmopolitan, and permanent than that word suggests:

scale model of extensive network of streets with houses, an amphitheater, baths, coliseum, and other public buildings — If you have the facilities to host the Roman equivalents of the Superbowl, “Hamilton”, and Beyonce you’re a *city*, dammit.

gold tile "P" on dark blue tile background — Early Christian symbol floor in the villa mosaic that the guides asked us not to step on.

trapezoid panel with stylized woman painted on front propped against a wall, two warped oblong boxes in foreground — So much going on at the site that they haven’t been able to catalog everything yet. This wooden panel and lead coffins from were in a downstairs hallway.

The aim of the larger Itinerarium Romanum Serbiae project is to connect a network of other Serbian Roman ruins, reproduction Roman villas, and motels along the route of the old Roman roads. Part tourism, part scientific study, it would provide a lot of local jobs (a concern because Serbia isn’t part of the European Union [yet?] and much of the traditional farming is dying out).

And finally, the mammoths.

large pile of fossils not quite dug out of the ground yet, in a wooden chamber

A bit of a non sequitur amongst all of the Roman artifacts, but these were found at the same site (in a much earlier strata, obviously) and are on display in a wooden chamber. If I remember rightly, only some of the fossils were found on site; others were brought in for comparison.

After walking around all day and putting so many things in our heads, we all slept well. Which is good as the next day we were in Belgrade, and in addition to the guided tour made an extracurricular visit to the Tesla Museum.

vertigo, in a good way: Belogradchik

The ship entered the port of Vidin, Bulgaria around 7 am. I was up early most days of the trip out of necessity but also because I never quite shook Eastern Standard time. But it was worth to see a week of mornings just like this (we lucked into almost perfect weather for the entire trip).

sunrise over the rippling water of river, hills on the far shore, with the railing of the ship in the near distance — Photo author’s own, as are all others except where noted.

We arrived ahead of schedule so we got to wander around Vidin a bit before the day’s field trip.

statue of 3 women in draped dresses, facing outwards — Statue in Vidin city center of the three unhappily married sisters who founded Vidin (or at least founded Baba Vida fortress around which the city was built).

wooded park with open umbrellas hanging from the treetops — Umbrellas in the park in Vidin.

Then we hopped on the coach for a trip to the mountains.

Belogradchik Fortress was originally built by the Romans and passed through Ottoman and Bulgarian hands through the centuries. Given the elevation it was originally built for surveillance rather than defense, though the walls are 2 meters thick in places.

tall rock formations with brick gate built between them, brick wall in foreground — Belogradchik Fortress was built within and using the natural rock formations.

two old, grown-over holes in the ground with a metal protective gate atop them — Roman cisterns, covered for safety. The Romans covered them with vinegar-soaked sheepskins to keep the water fresh.

We had the option to stay at the bottom or hike to the top. I chose the hike, and am grateful I invested in my hiking sneakers: ugly as sin prevented me grinding my knees to sawdust.

tall staircase built into the rock, going upwards — It was a bit of a hike…

sight of mountains between two rocky outcroppings, one perilously top heavy — …but the view was worth it.

I hate heights—or at least being near the edge of potentially long drops. Guard rails don’t help as I don’t trust them to hold. Nonetheless, I took a breath and stepped up to the edge.

another curious rock outcropping with misty mountains in background, safety railing visible in foreground — See the railing? I sweat bullets to get this shot.

looking down into wooded valley filled with red tile-roofed, whitewashed houses, and a single rock formation — The city of Belogradchik from with the characteristic red-tiled roofs and whitewashed walls.

The town of Belogradchik (Belograd=”white town”; “-chik” suffix=”small”, to differentiate it from the big white town of Belgrade—a later stop on the cruise) is built within the many Belogradchik Rocks. Most are named but 1) my notes aren’t clear on the specific names, probably because 2) I never could see the Bear, or Adam and Eve, or other figures described.

This site was a bit of a workout, in a good way: I challenged my fear of heights and got some good hiking in as well. Belogradchik was both beautiful but also a warmup for the next day’s excursion to a Roman archaeological site in Serbia.

history lesson: Veliko Tarnovo and Arbanassi

Our next stop was just that, a stop. Rousse, Bulgaria, is across the Danube from where we boarded the ship in Giurgiu, Romania. Think of Detroit’s physical relation to Windsor, Ontario. Our first view of Rousse was a bit confusing:

sunrise over dock with strangely misshapen white towers that look like salt but are probably sand — My traveling companions and I couldn’t figure out what the hell these were. A bit of digging reveals they may have been leftovers from an annual summer sand sculpture contest. All photos author’s own.

The excursion to Veliko Tarnovo started early (at least on this cruise line/itinerary). Most of the excursions did and justly so to accommodate the coach rides to and from plus a good chunk of sightseeing time. Double espressos were my friends throughout the trip. But said excursions are worth the early waking times. Every single one of these was interesting in some way, if only because I knew next to nothing about the histories of the places I’d be visiting. Happily the local guides are knowledgable and the coach rides provided ample time for crash courses.

Veliko Tarnovo was the capital of the 12th-14th century second Bulgarian empire. I didn’t know there was a first, so my notes say “read up on this”. The visit itself was a whirlwind of impressive hills and fortresses.

cobblestone path winds up hill, leading to large stone fortress — Everyone goes on about “the view from the top”—Tsarevets Fortress is pretty impressive from below.

four figures on horseback around central pole — The 1985 Monument of Assens celebrates the Tsars that created the second Bulgarian empire, and is visible from almost anywhere in the city. The characteristic architectural style is visible in the background: white stucco with red-tiled roofs.

By this time I’d developed a fascination with the buildings left over from communist days, if only because their aggressive simplicity stood out amongst the more traditional styles. Though, they also contained the occasional surprise: we stopped off at this ultra utilitarian hotel for coffee and banitsa to find the interior all red velvet and chandeliers.

stark gray concrete high rise with lacy curtains and the lights of a chandelier peeking out of the windows — See the lacy curtains and chandelier lights in the windows?

Then on to Arbanassi to get some early modern on. Some of the architecture here dates to the time of Ottoman rule (something else I want to read more about).

stone exterior wall with wooden shuttered window; stone looks compressed and settled over years of use — One of many among narrow cobblestone streets.

This cruise line was able to arrange a special performance of orthodox a capella chants at the Church of the Nativity.

old stone church with a red and yellow fresco of haloed figures — No interior photography permitted but I did get this photo of the exterior. The flag belongs to our tour guide.

Hearing the old chants echo off the frescoed walls created one of those “you are there” time-travel type moments that remind you that these buildings aren’t just relics but real buildings where real people lived and worked and worshipped for centuries (and in some cases are still in use).

The finish of the day was a taste of rakia distilled from roses. It tasted the way roses smell (I can’t think of any other way to describe it). Rose oil is a prominent export of central Bulgaria, but I didn’t know you could distill it. This was my first of many encounters with the culture and products Balkan brewing during the trip.

The drive back to the boat was a blur: by then jet lag and general exhaustion was setting in. I got an early night and good thing too as the next day we had a day trip to some very tall, windy rocks.

old, new, fancy, and plain: Bucharest

Bucharest is not on the Danube, but it’s where everyone flies in for this particular cruise. Given that the cruise company manages your experience from day one they did provide a 4 hour coach bus tour of the city with an excellent local guide. What follows are my jet-lagged memories bolstered by notes I scribbled that night and furious Googling. All photos my own except where noted:

Bucharest is often called “Little Paris” due to the influential French architecture built during the 19th and 20th centuries. The level of restoration is mixed: restored/maintained buildings are often right next to dilapidated husks. While stateside this disrepair might suggest incomplete gentrification (or decline) in Bucharest it’s a just part of the landscape, not isolated to any one part of the city as far as I could tell.

older building with scarred brickwork, blown out windows, rusted gate on balcony — Not an unusual sight. Old Town, Bucharest

It’s also normal to find these ornate banks and hotels across the street from stark communist-era cement apartment blocks or modern glass skyscrapers. The juxtaposition is odd to bleary American eyes but I imagine quite normal in any city as old as Bucharest.

ornate baroque building with arched doorway and round towers in front of modern glass skyscraper — Also not an unusual sight: the CEC Palace (CEC Bank) with glass skyscraper in background

Some of the most modern-looking architecture is at Revolution Square, renamed after the 1989 revolution.

photo of blackened stone sculpture of a man on horseback — Not the most modern art-looking piece in Revolution Square, but this statue of the first Romanian King, Carol I, is a powerful Romanian symbol. It’s a 2015 re-creation of a statue torn down by the Communists in 1947.

Sad to say I don’t know as much as I’d like about the history of the fall of communism. I’m old enough to remember coverage on television but didn’t have the context to grasp the broader picture. From what I could learn from our guide, the Romanian revolution was the bloodiest of all the revolutions of 1989, and almost 30 years afterwards the Ceaușescu regime appears to be viewed with a mix of disdain, embarrassment, and dark humor.

Indeed, Ceaușescu is hard to escape if only because the Palace of Parliament he started before his execution (but did not complete) casts such a (literally) huge shadow. Built with forced labor and displacing almost 50,000 Bucharest residents, it has over a thousand(!) rooms, all in a bombastic “totalitarian kitsch” style with towers of marble, velvet rugs and curtains, and gilded everything else. It’s oversized, overdone, and overwhelming, but despite this and its association with Ceaușescu I get why it’s still in use. It’s got every conference and performance amenity a city twice Bucharest’s size could ever need.

long, high arched gallery lit by multiple chandeliers, with large marble pillars and gilt molding on the ceiling — Authoritarian glam all the way back: one of the long (*long*) galleries in the Palace of the Parliament.

And speaking of long shadows, you can’t talk about Bucharest without mentioning Vlad the Impaler.

Of all the places associated with the inspiration for Dracula, the Old Princely Court is the only site with a documented association as Vlad III built the current structure in the 15th century. The local tourist shops capitalize on the English-speaking world’s fascination with Vlad: you can get Dracula/Bela Lugosi/Vlad the Impaler dressed as Bela Lugosi on just about anything. Which are the only Draculas you’ll see as the Old Court itself is currently closed for renovation and fenced off.

old brick open court with wooden supports and ladders lying about, a white stone pillar in the center upon which is the black stone bust of a man with long hair and ferocious mustache — I managed to get this photo of Vlad’s bust through a small gap in the fencing. How fitting to be posting it on Halloween!

I liked Bucharest, what little I saw of it. I’d like to see more, especially of the historical Old Town. The gaps in my historical knowledge about communism and its aftermath are shameful, so I plan to read up. Any book recommendations are welcome!

After Bucharest the coach departed for the dock in Giurgiu where the boat waited for us on the Romanian side of the Danube. Right across the river is the Bulgarian city of Rousse (Ruse), our next port of call.