The Belgrade to airport taxi ride - spontaneous travel experiences

Enlightening moments when travelling come at the most unexpected times. For example my taxi driver to the airport. I'd picked the oldest, most battered-looking car at the taxi rank, and he quoted me a much lower price than a dude in a flash new Volkswagen I'd pulled over a bit earlier then let go.

Despite my listening to my iPod, he made the effort of grabbing my attention to tell me something about a building I took picture of (posted below - he explained it's that shape because it symbolises the western gate of Belgrade) as we drove by, then asked me where I'm from and what I'd thought of Belgrade. He knew hardly any English - and my Serbo-Croat consists of the words for "thank you" and the names of various local dishes ;-), but we started talking.



He grew up in Osijek, about 100 miles from Belgrade but now in Croatia. He came to Belgrade in 1999. Because he had to leave. Or, he says, he'd have been killed. I asked him if he could go to Croatia now. I expected a "yes." But he just took an expression of fear as if I'd taken him to a nasty place, and said "no! Never." Followed by a pause, as he seemed to think back to things."Croatians... they are Nazis." God knows what he saw. It made me realise how despite the apparent calm and serenity nowadays, such horrible things happened here, and so recently. Big painful wounds, while maybe now bandaged out of sight, are still open, I thought as we sped along past endless fields of wheat and crops.



The nicest man, likes living in Belgrade now because he has found a "beautiful wife" there whom he refers to as "a black magic woman." When we got to the airport he opened the trunk to show me some pendants with trinkets he'd made. He asked me to choose and take one. "For your woman," he said. I asked him how much, but he didn't want payment. Nor did he even accept a tip from me to the very low taxi fare. Such enriching and unexpected moments of humanity while traveling are valuable. I just wish we all spoke the same language and could explore them more deeply.
Such kind gestures volunteered by a stranger also help restore my jaded faith in the goodness of humanity!



As I sat on the propeller plane at Belgrade's Aerodrom Nikola Tesla waiting to leave, I reached into my pouch and to my dismay found the trinket had broken in two. I'll probably keep it and try to glue it back together. I may someday give it to someone. If not it'll make a good souvenir in my treasure box.

I so love travel.