Yomadic Daily : Between Belgrade and Novi Sad, Serbia
Somewhere along the train tracks yesterday, in the Serbian countryside, somebody had chosen to end their life.
The train was stopped, pending investigations. A mixed-bag of broken-English conversations, told me it was at least a 45 minute walk from the closest town, and at least two hours before the train would be able to proceed. We hopped off. Next to the tracks, by a disused building, there was a pipe that was pumping out natural spring water. Good. It was a really hot day. The best option seemed to be start walking, find a road, and hitch-hike.
We were with Jen, an American. It was Jen’s first day in Serbia, she didn’t anticipate hitchhiking through the Serbian countryside, due to a rail disaster, on day one. Welcome to Serbia, Jen. I knew what what happen, and it did. Once we reached the road, it took just a few minutes before a friendly elderly gent stopped his car, picked us up, and drove us into the heart of Novi Sad.
Knowing what I know about Serbians, there was no doubt in my mind that if we walked to a road, somebody would soon stop and offer us a ride. It didn’t surprise me one bit. Sitting in the back seat of this stranger’s car, with Jen and Phillipa, I felt completely at home.
Ironically, Serbia has a reputation for danger.