23-IX-2016.
In the morning we realized that Divčibare don't attract us at all, so let's hit Leskovac, (... 38 words...). I somehow expected to see the clouds from above, no kidding, this is kilometer high, and so it happened. Of course, didn't match any good parking with good view. And the shooter button itches...
This now is the raw then processed shot, and an autopatch at that. What I shot yesterday was all on factory settings, so no raw but jpeg, clock and calendar at some zero, all automatic etc. I set it all to my liking during the coffee in the morning. True, some of the cloud shots drag into pink... a rookie, what can I say. How come a rookie now, when I'm processing raw for more than four years by now? Well my BrightChamber 4 (LightRoom translated into serbian and back) doesn't recognize the format of the eos70, and in the microsoftly manner says only that it isn't supported, but doesn't say what to do. And since I switched to linux a month ago, and keep them windowses in a virtual cage, I had to pass the photos to it through some piece of fox script, which would rename it (to preserve the datetime and camera name - the „img“ part becomes the camera prefix) and put into proper directory (one per day), and then when I process it there I need to move it back to linux where I have enough space. Well, screw that, I downloaded RawTherapee and went on doing everything in linux, forgot the BrightChamber.
As soon as we descended some, the conifers gave way to the tame landscape, the programmers' eye spa etc. May it be kitch, a postcard, it soothes the eye and the orange lamp's persistent nagging me about gas didn't bother me at all.
Then we dived into the fog. Though, it's not the flatland fog which sticks to the ground and you can't see more than two stripes on the road. This is more of a low cloud which doesn't hinder driving. Apart from that lamp bother, this also soothes the eye. Pretty green, just starting to turn yellow in some spots. This must be quite colorful in a few weeks.
Another lamp attracts my attention - it's past nine, and we haven't had a coffee! We pass a few villages until we notice some quarry or whatever. Looks more like a refinery, ummm, what can this be. Must be making lime. Well we must be limepits* for not getting it right away. And look, on the right, a huge parking with a real truckers' restaurant. Therefore, right turn signal, coffee!
Since we sat outside last evening without consequence, and were better dressed this time, we take a terrace table. There's also a bus stop (with name plate and a bit of a roof), says Tučkovo. Per wikipedia, it's half the village it once was, when it had 300 people.
The coffee is now called domaća (domestic). It's been enough of calling it turkish, which is nonsense - the Turks drink tea and they didn't invent coffee (which should be checked once**). Coffee is deep, can't see the bottom, good. Whether it's the water or the air, doesn't matter, it hit the right spots.
The fog stays overhead all the way to Požega, where all of a sudden there are gas stations everywhere. We pour and it turns we still had 4,5 liters in the tank. We could have reached Kraljevo with that.
We exit the fog and thread through Ovčar-Kablar gorge, which I recognize by railroad bridges overhead. Passed this way once during some ekskurzija.
In Čačak we stop for a walk and buy something quite untouristic (or those who think that the disco saw attachment for grass trimmer is a souvenir would be right). Instead of going about face, I continue generally eastward and do get where I should, but there's roadwork and we zigzag, with dozens of others, through old industrial zone and the suburbs, for half an hour. At least half of industry still works, so not everything is a disaster.
East of Čačak the valley widens into more of a plain with thick edges. We intend to reach Leskovac, so we make no stops. Kraljevo goes by almost as a blur, the pass is not so confusing as it is through Čačak. From Kruševac we should take a turn south somewhere, so I was thinking of making a stop, to pull out the laptop and check the maps. But it's almost noon and we're thinking of lunch. We pass Mrčajevci, who had their time of fame thanks to their priest (who claimed that half the local communists are regular in his church - on TV). I keep thinking of the number of villages with funny names we passed - Piroman (arsonist) for one. Some reporter will once make an article of that.
Thinking about that we reach Vrnjci. In the same lingustic manner, I start thinking of what's it in singular, a vrnjac or vrnjak, and what is that at all, does anyone remember the meaning of that word. And then I slap my brow - oy man, Vrnjačka Banja is here. Forgot completely. Let's go eat there. Drove up the creek as far as it went, turned left and parked by a cafe. Seems closed, some rebar grid is leant on the entrance. Let's walk.
First thing to notice is architecture. All those doksats (terrace/corridor connecting apartments), multifaceted roofs, adjusting to the space available.
To differ from regular places, where the main square is a crossing of most important thoroughfares, this is a spa. The square is on a mall, between the hill and the creek. A couple of streets do lead to it, but those aren't main at all.
Thinking of where to eat, we pass at least ten such places, but. Two or three are old big hotels, where I expect the classic hotel menu and probably no smoking. One hotel has a discrete „V.U.“ under its name - ah, vojna ustanova (military agency), thanks buddy, haven't grown a desire for your cuisine. The rest are fast food joints, which is probably not bad, but it's the same as at home, where we at least know which places are good. So we reach the other end of the promenade and there we spot an excellent place, the „Queen“ restaurant. Without discussion of their social order I order the house special... The dose is huge but I don't surrender, it actually goes just fine, must be that air. We also take the room, for both remaining nights, Leskovac is moved to some other year. The advantage of adventure is that you don't have to stick to the plan (this on the account of definition of advanture as lack of planning, as per Škrba).
We walk back to the car, but no photos until further - the battery is empty and the spare was never charged, for security reasons (they said it was theoretically possible that a full battery may explode in an airplane). The cafe is now, look, open, so we have a coffee there. Cats and kittens everywhere, at least four different kinds, very pictoresque. Luckily, battery empty.
It would be a good time to have a GPS, that is, it's in the car but I won't touch it after yesterday's confusion. Tried the one in my nokla, but it just tells me where I am and it must be on the north pole, everything's white around me, no mapps. Her phone... um, never mind, Vrnjačka Banja isn't some city, the guy at the hotel just said to take a right turn and that's the street that goes straight there. Right, except there's three such streets, and I performed a full right search, entering each and going about face at both dead ends (actually three, one street forks). For a flatlander driver I maneuvered quite skillfully, what with starting up the slope from a tight place, she even commended my driving (which is a first, and I'm her driver for forty years now).
In the evening, with battery full, walk. And wow, the architecture.
Not just the old buildings, but even the relatively new ones, in brutalist concrete from the late seventies. It all strives to fit in, and manages to pull it off. I resort to the old sport - she's trying to buy something, I stay outside and scout around with the lens. This vertical autopatch was a must.
Within three or four boutiques she finds something for herself - jeans. The size fits just right and the cut isn't shallow as a plate. Turns out that today's shops are like internet - you can find anything except twice. We came back to the same place the next day, but no, they have none. As expected, the economy of minimal stock forces them to have one of each, and if there's demand, it's easy to order, arrives the next day. Which somehow doesn't click with spa guests who come for a weekend.
We discover that we enjoy the classical stroll with shopping, shop window to shop window. They still have normal shops here, with a window which has even domestic products. At home (and in many other places we managed to peek at) all normal shop were forced out of downtown; clothing is reduced to boutiques and hipsterei; of the rest, only cafes, banks, insurance, mobile providers, exchange offices so one has no place to buy bread, not to mention a hardware store or a paint shop. Forget department stores. So, while we're here, walk.
Dozen meters on, the spot with ambience, in this same passage. The lights are always on, it's dark even in daylight, because the façades are almost connected around 1st and 2nd floor. A nice example of the beautiful city chaos, nicely conceived and executed in this case. And maintained, at that, as the whole spa seems to be.
The price difference between just sleep and full pansion is about 2€, so it was a no-brainer. And I was curious to see what's on the menu if they find it profitable. I understood that another meal like that lunch can spoil the whole vacation - I'd sleep it off, digesting. But no, it came out fine, we weren't hungry at all, and were fit for more walk at all times.
And we walked and we walked.
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* limepit - short for „calcified veins“ i.e. demented by age, Alzheimer candidates
** checked, on burundi - there were shifting fashions. For a decade or two they'd hit the coffee, then tea, then again. Ditto for alcohol, as the powers shifted, they went from puritan strictness to bachanalia and back.
Mentions: burundi, ekskurzija, eos70, fox, Gradivoj Škrbić (Škrba), nokla, in serbian
14-X-2016 - 31-X-2025