Our trunks were loaded onto an old-fashioned carriage—an ancient cab pulled by two tiny horses. These animals looked like they had more energy than body weight, and despite their size, they quickly turned the corner from the station. The driver took us to a brightly lit building nearby. He explained that this was the police headquarters, where we could retrieve our passports.
Inside, the police officers treated us with great politeness. However, they were very curious about my profession. I hesitated to tell them I was a newspaper reporter. In many situations, especially in politically sensitive places like Serbia at the time, it could be dangerous or inconvenient to admit working for the press. It might even harm the success of one’s trip Sunday Market in Belgrade.
So instead, I told them I was simply a traveler. But that answer was not specific enough for them. Wanting to avoid further suspicion, I decided to describe myself as a gentleman of leisure, someone visiting Serbia to enjoy its beautiful sights. That explanation seemed to satisfy them.
The police chief was especially respectful. He apologized if the questioning had caused any trouble and insisted on shaking hands. Then, with the elegance of a trained host or even a dancing master, he bowed us out the door.
A Cloud of Smoke and Endless Discussion
The hotel we were taken to had a large café that was already full when we arrived. The entire room was covered in thick blue cigarette smoke. Beneath this smoky cloud was a lively group of men engaged in serious conversation. Their discussions went on until the early hours of the morning.
We quickly learned that many people in Belgrade spent much of their time drinking beer, talking about politics, and smoking cigarettes. This seemed to be the city’s favorite pastime.
Sunday Morning in Belgrade
The next morning was Sunday. Yet again, the café was full very early. This time, women joined the men, and the place was just as busy as the night before. Every table was taken, and the thick blue mist of cigarette smoke floated above their heads, completely covering the ceiling Day Tour Ephesus.
Throughout our stay in Belgrade, this scene never changed. Whether it was morning or night, the café was always full. People were constantly drinking beer, wine, and coffee while chain-smoking cigarettes. The amount consumed must have been enormous. It seemed as though the café was the heartbeat of social life in the capital.
