Day 18 – Novi Sad to Belgrade

John’s birthday started with a breakfast that was ok, but Nescafé instant coffee?  Ugh. A couple came up to us while we were eating and asked if those were our Surlys they had seen in the lobby. Hasnain & Fatma Panju are also cycling across Europe, but they make us look like pikers: they are going from London to Istanbul, following the path of Patrick Leigh Fermor (whose books I read in the lead-up to the trip). We compared our glove tans, and I really wish I’d taken a picture…curse, you, Nescafé! The gentleman from the Cycling Union came by and put on a new tire and tube for me, and after waiting for some brief showers we headed out. Leaving town following the path from Dex took us through some heavy traffic, but the following winds had us flying, and today we made very good time. John’s knee is back to normal, so we’re going 10 miles at a go. We stopped in Vilovo for a snack, and I decided to finally have my burn dressed: at our lunch in Sombor I managed to touch my forearm on the heating plate and got a nice memento; Neosporin was doing well, but rubbing the blistered area with my backpack strap wasn’t fun.  The doctor bandaged my arm like I had taken a bullet, all the while arguing vociferously on her cell phone with someone, but sent me on with a big smile at my “Hvala vam.” We tried to get some lunch in Perlez, but in a very broken German dialogue between me and one of the bar regulars, we found that the nearest restaurant was about ten miles further; they insisted on treating us to a Coca-Cola before leaving. We had some interesting spaghetti bolognese when we finally got to Centa, but really didn’t care at that point. The last bit of the ride in was a whole lot of nothing, but as we got into the outskirts of  Belgrade I witnessed some of the worst driving I’ve seen outside of Austin. The sidewalk (such as it was) was chock-a-block with pedestrians and parked vehicles, so the road was the only option, until we got to the bridge over the Danube, where signs in Serb and English specifically ordered bikers up. The pavement was broken every meter from the expansion joints, and we were lucky no one was coming the other way.  With major truck traffic whizzing by at 60 miles and hour, Iit was a bit harrowing, but we made it across just in time for the afternoon showers to hit. We got our rain kit on as we biked towards the Stari Grad (“Old City”) section of town where we were staying. Turns out the place we picked is exceptionally nice, and on the main “hip and happening” street in Belgrade. After checking in and getting cleaned up, we went to a nice restaurant up the street, where we again indulged in our carnal cravings. Some rather unattractive Ladies of Easy Virtue attempted to interest us in their wares, but we were more interested in the Ukraine-Sweden match on the TV, so they gave up after a few minutes and went to the bar inside. We took a taxi to the Grand Casino and played a few hours of poker; best moment was when John had a flush that cracked a guy’s aces that he had made trips on the flop.  As the chips were sent John’s way, the guy went on a rant in Serbian for a full minute before leaving the table…maybe he’s related to Phil Hellmuth?