It wasn't possible to find out what would happen at the Serbian border in advance. I read a lot of contradictory information on the internet. When I contacted my own insurance company they told me my policy would be invalidated if I went to Serbia and Russia because it is against regulations to have 2 policies at the same time. Esure, the biggest UK company to cover Serbia don't sell short term policies which meant I would have to pay for a twelve month policy to get cover. In the end I argued with my insurance company that they were being unreasonable and told them I would be buying insurance locally in Russia and Serbia. They agreed with me and I declared to them the estimated times of my entry and exit for both countries.
I downloaded a route to Novi Sad on Google maps which avoided the motorways and their tolls but after our Russian experience I was fairly sure the method would be inadequate in Novi Sad. As with Russia I was unable to obtain a decent road map of Serbia. I have a European atlas, of course, but it was no better than Google maps for this purpose. I knew we were being met by friends so if I got lost there would be someone I could call. Tolls in Serbia are frequent and expensive and can cost up to 20 Euros for a short stretch. Apparently the normal cost for the stretch between Novi Sad and Belgrade is currently three Euros but I read a warning that foreigners are charged extra, although I also heard that when the Greeks took retribution by charging Serbs extra to use Greek motorways that the Serbian rules changed so maybe things are getting better now. No matter. I hate paying tolls whatever the country. Did I tell you that?
Sonja Šešlija, my Serbian friend (although I am proud to say I now have many Serbian friends) had been in contact by text on the previous night and as we approached the border. She sent me some driving instructions by text and the names of the towns we should pass through which would lead us to a meeting place in a town outside Novi Sad. We left the main road at Subotica and, as we did, the maps on the sat nav went blank. As we arrived in each town we progressed by looking for road signs to the next place on Sonja's list. After a moderately pleasant drive and only one wrong turn we made it to our destination.
We travelled through some small towns and mostly flat, open countryside. We passed a number of police officers along the way and the legend that they are notorious for stopping foreigners was not correct. The legend that Serbian roads are terrible was not correct. They were fine. The legend that Serbian drivers are aggressive was not correct. They were fine. One of my friends told me to be careful in Serbia. Another said that we would be passing through bandit country. With each obstacle put in our way and with each negative comment about Serbia it became more important for me to travel there. I had learned about Serbia's isolation but also that it isn't all of Serbia's making. There is only one thing to do with prejudice and that is to demystify it. There is only one thing to do with unnecessary barriers and that is to break them down. I don't believe what I read in newspapers. I don't believe what I see on TV. I will find out for myself, thank you very much. And I will teach my son to do the same.
We were met by Sonja, her boyfriend Nebojša Petrović, her mother Vesna and Tijana Sekulic (who played piano on Vreme Ispred Nas), not forgetting Tijana's dog, Mopi. We were taken to a country stables that had a restaurant where we drank coffee and talked in some lovely afternoon sunshine. Kit was introduced to Rakija, a Serbian alcoholic beverage made from distilled, fermented fruit, but as I was driving I had to pass. Kit doesn't drink much alcohol at all but managed, even seemed to enjoy, Rakija without problem.
My first impression of Serbs was open friendliness, happiness and laughter. This group of people were comfortable in each others company and loved each other. Tijana, in particular, had an individual sense of humour and comedic timing that brought a great deal of laughter to our weekend. She was full of wry, sharp observations on life and people. When we were alone later Kit said to me he wished more English people were like Tijana. We then drove into Novi Sad to Sonja's house where we met Miloš. It was like the meeting of long lost brothers for me.
There is a thread in the journeys I've made to my family. It is a journey for my heritage and roots. I always feel at peace with my German family and I had the same feeling amongst these people. We only knew them for a couple of days but it felt like we'd always known them. As soon as we left them we began to miss them. There is also something magical about Novi Sad. It produces many creative musicians, poets, artists and writers. All the people we met in Novi Sad seemed to have a freedom of expression about them. They were a creative people not afraid to engage in creativity.We feasted on barbecued meats with salads and a chilli dip.
There was also a wonderful raspberry and cherry cake. Vesna is a great cook and we ate well all weekend. We also finally got round to tasting the Russian Easter cake given to me by Yuri in what seems like a lifetime ago.
After such a feast and another Rakija Kit wilted and had to sleep even though the guitars were coming out for a rehearsal before tonight's gig.
I was feeling the tension of an unfinished song I'd begun in the hotel room in Rotterdam and was wide awake. I wanted to write something new for the gig. We had been invited to join Prkos Drumski playing in the studio of artist Bojan Kiridžic at the Petrovaradin Fortress which looks across the Danube onto Novi Sad and the famous bridges bombed in 1999 by NATO. So many obstacles were put in the way of our travelling to Novi Sad. Who are the people who don't want my son and me to travel to Serbia? Who started the process of Serbia's isolation and why? Who started the lies? I wanted my song to deal with all these issues, to build bridges across the rivers of ignorance and to offer the hand of friendship to the people who welcomed us so warmly. Bridges are a good metaphor. In Rotterdam I almost finished the song but was troubled by what to say about the bridges of Novi Sad. They were bombed during the conflict with the Milosevic regime and this remains a scar on the collective Serbian memory. I knew I needed to look into the eyes of Miloš and Sonja. We had just had a lunch in a house full of laughter and joy. Serbians are ordinary people after all. If there is one consistent thing I have learned from all my travels it is that all human beings are essentially the same. There are sometimes great big beautiful cultural differences between us but apart from the obvious economic wealth in the west we all eat, drink, laugh, love, live, die and, if we are lucky, we make a bit of art along the way.I nervously announced I had written a song for tonight but needed to finish it off. I never play unfinished songs to anyone but this occasion was an exception. Prkos Drumski joined me and jammed on the song. By this time we had been joined by Sanja Marković on saxophone and percussion and Miloš Drobnjaković on mandolin and bass. Their presence lifted me and the words and music fell into place. I wanted the song to be a simple one. Lyrically and musically. I wanted a song that was clear in its meaning and message. After it was finished we played it through and then we played it through again. 'My House Is An Open Door' was born and Prkos Drumski would be playing with me tonight. The magic of this visit continued.
After the rehearsal we went to check in to our hotel and Novi Sad provided the best accommodation of the whole trip. The hotel was plush with great facilities including separate bedrooms, a fridge, a PC and wifi that worked. Ironically we were to spend the least time in this hotel than any of the others. After freshening up Kit and I changed into the tour t-shirts I'd made in England. In fact they had only just made it into our cases and Chris had ironed on the transfers while we napped just before setting off.
Sometimes gigs are perfect and this was one of those occasions. Before this trip, I hadn't played my guitar since December last year but I had no nerves. Kit and I had worked out a setlist after he finished his nap and we knew we would rise to the occasion. Nebojša drove us to the Petrovaradin Fortress. I was reasonably relieved to leave the car behind for the evening and it meant I would be able to have a few beers. On arrival at the castle I looked across the Danube at the evening lights of Novi Sad coming on. It was a beautiful sight and I had a wonderful feeling of inner calm. I remembered I was in a place where innocents died and the powerful feelings I had were further enhanced. I remembered something I read in Dutch journalist Geert Mak's book 'In Europe: Travels Through The Twentieth Century' - 'The words of György Konrád in Budapest still echo in my mind: 'The sooner Milošević and his gang are gone, the better. But no Hungarian, no Czech, no Bulgarian, no Rumanian would ever come up with the idea of bombing the Bridges of Novi Sad to accomplish that. To think up something like that you have to be far, very far removed from our reality.'
The studio was a lovely, warm environment with the artist's pictures on display. There was a small bar behind a counter from which Vesna served drinks and an area of chairs where the audience sat. It was an intimate affair and I think I got to talk to everyone in the room at some point. I had a long conversation with a Croatian journalist, who was covering the gig, about the reasons for our trip and about Serbia.
It was like magic to see Prkos Drumski play. This particular line up is sharp and dynamic and the addition of saxophone in particular makes a dramatic difference.
Kit had joined them in rehearsals and played along at the gig too. The third artist on the bill was Izmena Vremena, an introspective and sensitive songwriter from Novi Sad with a lovely command of melody and nicely constructed songs. He very generously introduced one of his songs by telling the audience he had been inspired to write it after listening to my song 'Berlin' on Myspace. 
Kit and I played 'Child Of The Superficial Age' 'Catch Your Train On Time' 'Almost' and 'I Already Love You'. Kit played Vinnie Spencer's 'Schizophrenia Of Love' and Sara Bareilles' 'August Moon' solo. We finished our set with 'My House Is An Open Door' my song for Novi Sad. I think it is for others to criticise and say how we played but Kit and I felt great afterwards.
When I looked back at the video I was struck by confessing my feeling of connection with Novi Sad to a group of strangers and near strangers but that is how I still feel. I don't know why. What is there to understand? We felt at home in that beautiful, magical town. We were made to feel welcome by a family of people and embraced that welcome. The Croatian journalist I spoke to told me that Serbians have a saying for my feelings and they call my reaction 'a big Slavic heart', which is a lovely idea. After the gig I was presented with a Bojan Kiridžic painting signed by all the family. It was a beautiful gift.
The party eventually broke up and we headed back to Sonja's for yet more food and drink but I faded rapidly. It had been a long day and my eyes began to swell and itch again. Tijana drove us back to the hotel but I couldn't sleep and sat up for a couple of hours drinking water, writing the blog and posting some of it to the internet. I felt elated and at peace. Everything we set out to achieve on this trip has been successful beyond all our hopes. Today was a very, very special day. Worth the hundred Euro rip-off at the border.
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