Burly Border Guards Wed, 10 Jan 2007
What is it like to be stared down by the Serbian border's finest? Myself and Andy have lived to tell the tale. I'm exhausted at the moment but sniffing Olbas Oil in order to stay awake and share our story. We set out from Bulgaria Saturday morning with plans to reach Croatia via Serbia. Little did we know that all of Western Europe's ski enthusiasists and then some had planned on doing the same. Our first crossing was Bulgaria to Serbia, a two hour extraveganza complete with demands that we pay for "low cost" insurance. I have had to buy special insurance in other countries but never for a full thirty days and never for 125 euro. I hadn't enough folding money of the local currency or the euro so had to drive into the country without my passport and search for a bank machine. Luckily enough there was one not far from the border but it was a new experience having to wander about passport-free. The condition of the town we had to enter to find a bank machine only added to the ridiculousness. Collapsing houses and only partially existing roads make one wonder what one is doing being allowed to drive to such a place without this special insurance. We returned to the border and paid for our "low cost" and then I finally had my passport returned to me. The border chap seemed quite dissapointed to have to relinquish his prize. I was worried I might have to wrestle it from him but no such luck and we were got on our way again.
Serbia itself turned out to be a rather bleak destination. While some of the mountaineous regions were picturesque, the towns and villages were dilapadated with no sign of repair. The shock came when we reached Belgrade and discovered a city of bright lights, tall buildings, and massive highways. It seems that all of the country's recent spending has gone toward that city and the motorways taking tourists like ourselves from east to west. The aformentioned ski enthusiasts certainly showed there best colors on this day. At border crossings and motorway exits families were cutting one another off and horns were being honked with ear shattering regularity. I'm not sure that I have ever before seen so many parents with young children in the back seats weaving and dashing and shouting at one another in attempts to gain five seconds in the long lines. Adds to the madness of our scene needless to say.
I'm so glad now to have had that 30 day insurance for all of the 4 hours that we spent within the country. 125 euro well spent. I had hoped to arrive that evening to the family that I had previously stayed with in Croatia but as we approached the Croatian border all thoughts to that end were snuffed. Lines there were of a length that seemed to make pitching a tent the next logical action. An action we might have considered were it not that the cold might have shrivelled us both to an indeterminate state. We did instead join the fray. Our passports were checked once and then upon the second glancing the guard sent us over for "inspection." His instructions made as much sense as a geography class to an American high school student but eventually we understood where this inspection would take place and had to cut across about 10 lanes of cars to reach it. There a burly border guard was having his wicked way with two other tourists. Their bags were out on the road to be gazed upon by all in the area and the two had that post-cavity search look upon them. Twas an awfully cold night for such things but these border guards must be thorough one would guess.
After he was finished with them and they escaped with what dignity they could muster our new friend turned to us. The chap had a look that Arnold would be proud of. Two inch waist about but shoulders like a redwood tree. Even his voice had that "I will crush you" ring to it. He eyed Andy and I up like a pair of oatmeal cremes and then set to work examining the car. It became clear from his questions that it was my previous jaunt through Montenegro that resulted in this search. The fact that my jaunt had occurred months before didn't seem to matter compared with the fun he hoped to have. He started to work doing little bangs on doors and rooves and then began looking around at the inside of the car. Something "blue" caught his eye underneath the passenger seat and he began asking repeatedly "What is blue?" I was unable to see this "blue" as I was in the driver's seat and was unable to bend my head so ridiculously far as to see underneath the other seat. He started asking that all in the back seat be removed until he could get his hands on this "blue." When all was removed he grabbed the deadly "blue" in triumph only to realize it was the case of my mp3 player. I could see the dissapointment shrouding "Arnold's" face so he quickly turned his attention to our suitcases. He immediately wanted mine open and began the thorough search of my underwear. Some pairs after these seven months may have been toxic but were obviously not was he was after and so he instead turned his attention to the trunk of the car. Strangely enough when I opened the trunk and he saw how full it was he seemed confused of what to do so didn't bother looking in it at all. Very strange though I was glad to not have to pull out my tea bags for him to sniff. Instead he decided that I and Andy needed a once over. He signalled to me down at the hood of the car and I thought he meant for me to put my hands on it as you see in "Cops" before the usual frisking followed by cuffing. I was hardly to argue with "Arnold" so began to do the honors before he stopped me and demonstrated that I should empty my pockets onto the hood. I did so and then he examined my coins and tissues before deciding to frisk me anyway. I can still remember "Arnold's" warm hands on that cold night to this very hour. Gave "touch me tender" brand new meaning. He then turned his attentions to my fearless companion whom I was hoping had not soiled himself already at this point. Andy did not receive the customary frisk but did have the assortment of medicines in his pockets thoroughly examined. When I saw the medicine chest emerge from his pants I thought we were doomed. Took some convincing on his part that the unpackaged Advil's were indeed only that. I was a little unsure myself after witnessing the quantities. "Arnold's" final act was to return to me with a questioning look and say "Marijuana?" In such situations I imagine the culprit is then to say "Oh is that what you were looking for. Here let me show you where I keep it." I was unaware of that normal protocal and just said "NO" and for "Arnold" it was the final dissapointment. He returned our passports (which first passport checker had kept) and headed toward some unsuspecting Austrians with smiles on their faces. Andy and I did not hang around for the next victimization but instead joined the long lines once more. When we finally reached the Croatian side of the border one glance at our passports saw us through and we went to find a hotel close to the border. With the feel of those warm hands and Andy's medicine chest safely re-stowed we were on our way. We found a hotel after no small amount of searching before heading the next day to inner Croatia and the B&B of my friends there.
Two new galleries are up that first include pictures from Plodiv where we stayed in Bulgaria. It was a nice town to spend a night and a day wandering about in. Supposedly the best city that Bulgaria has to offer. I will post some comments about that short venture in the upcoming. The second gallery is of our two days in Croatia. We traveled back to Slunj and to Plitvice National Park (See earlier galleries from Croatia). It was strange to see them in Winter as the lush green trees had shed their leaves and the number of tourists there was three including ourselves. We've now arrived to Ljubliana and my friends here. As I said I will try to fill in the details of the past days more thoroughly soon enough. As I wrote in the last post check www.grandtoureurope.com for some brief daily or sometimes daily updates.