There were very few camp sites open in Serbia at that time of year but we were optimistic about Camping Raj on the banks of the Danube – we had visions of Indian splendour, gold paint and red velvet, perhaps even a tandoor oven? Turns out the site got its name from the nearby village of Raj!
The site was an untidy mish mash of makeshift outbuildings and the place looked like the morning after a drunken party. I have a photo of the toilet but it’s too awful to share . . .
Our host, Milos had been a businessman in Belgrade and had sold up and bought land on the banks of the Danube. In the morning Tony went to find him to pay for our stay. As he was gone for some time I went to see where he was and found them sitting round Milos’s table discussing the political situation in Serbia over a bottle of the local tipple, rakji, a double distilled plum brandy. When we left later that morning Milos gave us a bottle of rakji as a parting gift.
Restaurant Gros in Leskovac
The next night we stayed on a piece of waste ground in the town of Leskovac and had a meal at a rustic restaurant nearby. It was a very popular eating place and appeared full when we arrived about 5pm. However, we were warmly welcomed by the staff and were quickly found a table. English menus were produced – shortly followed by glass of cold local beer. I had chosen pork ribs which had a crispy outside with soft, sweet meat that fell off the bone. Tony had a steak which was equally enjoyable. The portions were huge and cost of the meal was £55 which included £18 for a bottle of delicious Serbian red wine. Smoking was allowed in the restaurant, most of the smokers were younger people, some had children with them.
Serbia felt like the Wild West compared with Romania. We passed two rubbish dumps, home to half starved feral dogs. As we drove by we saw a man using a horse and cart to unload some builder’s rubble.
