Busted Bus

Sarajevo was having a film festival when I was in town. Given how much I enjoy movies, it was sort of like Christmas in August for me. I finally caught a movie in an outdoor theater (my plans for an outdoor movie were twice cancelled by the rain). I found out about the festival a bit late, but I made up for it by catching four documentaries in one day. (One about the paramilitary/guerilla warfare in Columbia, which was very good but extremely graphic. The others were about romance, friendships, and life in the postwar Balkans.) I also saw Layer Cake, a British mob film, sort of like a more clever and intelligible Snatch. Surprisingly, I liked it a lot. The one movie I thought was complete crap (but I am certain David,Evan, & Trey would love) was Kung Fu Hustle.

I was quite happy to leave the crazy hostel and the crazy hostel dude. Of course, I couldn't escape without one last crazy conversation.

Crazy Hostel Dude: "Why haven't I seen you around? You are never here with us."
Me (weirded out): "I have been busy." (Translation: You have a lockout at the hostel and I am not allowed to be in the building from 11-5, so why the hell would you expect to see me around?)
Crazy Hostel Dude: "When are you leaving us?"
Me (very weirded out): "Tomorrow." (Translation: Not soon enough.)
Crazy Hostel Dude: "We will miss you."
Me (running toward the door as I choke back vomit): "...."

Maybe you are doing something wrong if you must flirt with customers to drum up business. Just a thought.

I decided to take an overnight bus to Belgrade. I get to the station about two hours before the scheduled departure and ask for a ticket. The ticket lady shook her head, no. Perhaps she does not understand me? I ask again. She shakes her head again and points to her seat. Sold out? This is very very bad. So I stand there for a bit and do the only thing I can think of. I go to a different counter and ask somebody else for a ticket to Belgrade. Obviously if I keep asking the availability will change. My plan does not work because the second lady says 'no' as well. I check the train schedules. They are all in Cyrillic. Not helpful. I almost start to panic. I then ask the first lady if I could get a ticket to anywhere in Serbia. This time she nods. I am ecstatic. That is how I found myself waiting with a bunch of Spaniards for a bus to Novi Sad.

It starts to drizzle as we board the bus, but we leave on time--11 p.m. Destination: Serbia. Fifteen minutes later we are on the outskirts of town, driving up a hill, when the bus begins to make some unpleasant sounds. Perhaps it has indigestion? We pull off to the side of the road. The driver revs the engine as he tries to shift into second. VrooomVroom. SplutterSplutter. VroomVroom. SplutterSplutter. Choke. Die. The bus rolls backwards and lodges itself into the ditch.

Things are not looking good. Our bus now dead and stuck. It is deathly quiet on the bus, so of course I take the opportunity to laugh loudly and hysterically. The other people on the bus do not seem to find the situation humorous. Perhaps I should not laugh, so I bite down on my hand to stop myself. The bus driver comes flying past us with a rachet set, lifts up the seats, and starts fiddling with the engine. He mumbles a little to himself, then comes back with a pair of pliers. Brilliant idea! I'm sure all the transmission needs is a minor adjustment that can be done with a dinky set of pliers. At this point, I know we will be there for awhile, so I nod off to sleep.

Two hours later a new bus arrives, so we board it and reach Novi Sad by eight in the morning. I check out the town until it begins to rain. I then decide to head to Belgrade.

So, I'm in Belgrade now. I will write more later. I'm kind of tired of typing now. It's raining, so I've taken refuge in an internet cafe. The rain has (finally) let up, so I'm going to grab something to eat and head home for a nap.