A train is crossing over one of the bridges spanning this section of the Danube River here in charming Novi Sad in Serbia. Another lovely stop, Novi Sad is Serbia's second largest city, but five times smaller than Belgrade, or Beograd, the white city. We visited Belgrade yesterday, the capital of Serbia, and one of the oldest cities in Europe. Built at the confluence of the Danube and Sava rivers, its location has made it an important crossroads since before recorded history. It was very hot here too, 98+F, as we explored the Sava Orthodox cathedral, the largest in the world, the Kalemegdan fortress and surrounding park (with ancient trees, many designated as protected national treasures), and the Tito memorial. It seems the majority of Serbians remember the Yugoslavia of Tito as a comfortable time; they still mourn his loss. Things quickly disintegrated after his death in 1980, reinforcing their happy memories of Tito's reign. But people from other countries have very different memories and very different opinions of that time.

   Even with the heat, exploring these Eastern European countries is a delight. In my recent travels so far, I wish I had had more time in every one of them, Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia. There are still Croatia and Hungary yet to come, and I expect I'll want more days --or weeks-- in those countries too.  

   This afternoon several of us walked about a mile in the limitless hot sunshine to explore the Petrovaradin Fortress. It was built between 1692 and 1780 as an Austrian defense against invading Turks, although archeologists have found remains of ramparts from a fortified settlement dating back to the early Bronze age, around 3000 BC! The Petrovaradin Fortress is now a museum, and, unlikely as the men who fought to defend this hill centuries ago would have thought, on this Saturday it was a scenic backdrop for peaceful wedding ceremonies. We saw two sets of brides and grooms while we were there; I don't know how many weddings were performed that morning, nor the number that would most likely occur at twilight. It is a gorgeous spot, high on a hill overlooking Novi Sad and the curving Danube River. But to me the most exciting activity was walking through about a kilometer of the twelve mile network of underground tunnels. Relievingly cool inside, and high enough for most of our group to stand up in, we slowly descended and then climbed up dark stairways, through long black tunnels, stepping carefully over the uneven and sometimes slippery, wet cobblestones, marvelling that the men who lived here for up to six months at a time had to familiarize and memorize their ways in the blackness without any light at all so they couldn't be detected by enemy forces. They fought, slept, and ate in darkness; no lights were permitted or used by them at all. Thank goodness for modern-day cell phone lights; without them I'm pretty sure we would not have found our way out. How those soldiers could have run through these tunnels blind is a feat that is hard to imagine! But they did; it is a part of the history here.  

   Also at the fort is an iconic clock on which the hour and minute hands are reversed in size. This was supposed to help sailors see the time in any weather, but I really don't understand why or how that would help. (Perhaps some things in that explanation were lost in translation.) The beautiful clock tower has survived all bombings in this area, but down below on the Danube can still be seen the remains of bridges, the pilings bearing testament to what used to be here.