There, in the distance, the arches of the Žeželjev Bridge shine, and the Varadin Bridge, which I guess is called the "Rainbow" because of the multi-colored lighting, is right below the balcony. The map tells me that this water flows from right to left. And when I look at the fortress, I expect, who knows why, the river coming from the Žeželje bridge, to continue under the Varadin bridge to the south. It is a trick of the good old Danube. Sluggish, powerful water first rolls from the north, from Apatin, to flow east-west already near Bačka Palanka. Arriving in Novi Sad, the Danube at Telep begins to make a pirouette to the left, so that under Patrovaradin it actually flows in a south-north direction, as if it changed its mind, wanting to go back to its source. Then he went around the fortress and the hill and turned south again towards Sremski Karlovci.
Here, on the balcony, from where I admire the whims of the old river, I am still in Bačka. And when I cross the bridge towards Petrovaradin tomorrow, I will stop in my native Srem.
I'm here again
Now I'm going for a short walk. Mihaila Pupina boulevard welcomes me as always - the flash of headlights on the wet pavement, a series of buildings, of which my gaze lingers most on the Svetozar Marković Workers' Home, built in 1931 as the Palace of the Workers' Chamber. Architect Dragiša Brašovan received an award for this minimalist beauty at the modern architecture exhibition in Prague.
I cross the wide street that on the old postcards was called Bulevar Kraljice Marije and I'm already in Danube Park. I pass through it for the first time in winter. The development of the park began by filling in the abandoned branch of the Danube in 1895. I will not tell you what happened, what kind of renovations one of the most beautiful parks in Serbia has behind it. It is important that this time too he welcomed me with the silence of his black pines, birches and sycamores, with the glitter of snow under the New Year's lights.
We emerge onto Dunavska Street in front of the Museum of Vojvodina, the former court palace, built at the beginning of the last century. And I already said that I like this city, as always. Dunavska continues to dig into the center, getting brighter. However, we will not go any further - tonight we will visit Tontić's friends in Telep, which is about six kilometers from here. We think aloud about the taxi. Where is the nearest station? This is heard by the man clearing the snow in front of the Lantern. He says his name is Stanko and offers us to have his people call a taxi at the bar. Willingness to help unknown people always pleasantly surprises. His drawn-out Novi Sad speech gives off culture and measure. And that's what I like about this city. We thank each other and get into the taxi.
Petrovaradin viewpoint
I cross the Danube every day. Before that, I read the board reminding me that on April 1, 1999, NATO aviation destroyed the Varadin bridge and killed XNUMX-year-old Oleg M. Nasov from Novi Sad. Walking along the new Varadin bridge, I think about Oleg. On the fateful day, he went to work at the Refinery under his work obligation. His son was born three months after the murder of the bridge and Oleg on it.
It's clearing up. The Danube gold on the surface of the water is the same as that of the Rhine. It's blowing on the bridge. On the other side, I am greeted by a sign that reminds me that I am no longer in Novi Sad but in Petrovaradin. That historically based relationship reminds me of the one between Belgrade and Zemun. Petrovaradin was a military-strategic elevation, a fortified Austro-Hungarian garrison. And on the Novi Sad side, a city of artisans and merchants was emerging. I get off the bridge in Štrosmajerova and near the Church of St. George and the former Jesuit monastery, I turn up the stairs towards the top of the fortress. The shortness of breath paid off at the top. There is a unique view of the "subgrad" as the people of Novi Sad call the settlement below the fortress. And from the Clock Tower, I look across the Danube at the countless buildings of Novi Sad, which from here act like beehives with the spikes of the bell tower of the church and the solitaire cubes.
Cousin Vice Marshal
I enjoy the view and think whether I should go to Trandžament, the hill behind the Fortress in the direction of Sremska Kamenica. There, a few kilometers away, is the old military cemetery where my surname Martin Dedović, born in 1822 in Hrtkovci, was buried in 1756. He graduated from the Austrian Military Engineering Academy. In the Austro-Turkish war of 1788-91. distinguished himself during the conquest of the Turkish strongholds of Novo na Una, Gradiška, Belgrade and Cetin. He then took part in the siege of French cities during Napoleon's time, reaching as far as Luxembourg. He defended Frankfurt on the Main, and then was the commander of the Ulm fortification. At the end of the XNUMXth century, he became a lieutenant colonel, and fifteen years later he received the rank of sub-marshal. At the end of his career, he became the commander of the Petrovaradin fortress. Since the Montenegrin Grandfathers from whom my father originates claim that all people with this surname, regardless of denomination, are related, it would be my turn to visit my relative's grave. But not even a young man employed at the Fortress Museum can explain the exact location of the cemetery to me, so I'm postponing this relative duty for a time when I'm not busy. I am returning from the Srem viewpoint to the town on the Bačka side of the river.
Mirna Bačka
I take a walk through the center of Novi Sad to check if everything is exactly as I remembered. Already at the beginning of Zmaj Jovina I see a group of musicians dancing in the cold around the monument to the poet and I remember that the new year will come that evening according to the Julian calendar. Since the pubs are only open until 20 p.m., this brass band won't really go out.
I look back to take another good look at the Bishop's Palace, one of the most interesting buildings in Novi Sad. It was created in 1899 according to the design of Vladimir Jovanović. Since the famous architect was the godson of the bishop at the time, he found a solution to build the palace without breaking the pavement - another architect, Ferenc Rajhl, responsible for the beautiful buildings in Subotica and Szeged, signed Jovanović's design. It was preserved that the bishop's godson said: "I made a plan, Reichl signed it, the palace is being built and Bačka is peaceful." It seems that this way of doing business, which today is called partnership-burazer, has a great and famous tradition in Serbs.
On Freedom Square, the Catholic Church of the Name of Mary, built in 1894, and the Neo-Renaissance City Hall, a year younger, still compete for the attention of foreigners. Local people sometimes call the church a cathedral, which is logical for the largest church in Bačka, but it is not correct. The cathedral is a church at the episcopal seat, and it is in - Subotica.
I remember that ten years ago I was at a reception in the City Hall. Its decorative and airy interior impressed me. This time, as soon as I walked in the door, I was greeted by security. Can I see the historic building from the inside? No. It's a pity, I say, and I think that the guy who runs the business here has alienated a significant historical asset from both the people of Novi Sad and the rest of humanity.
Between the Church and the Town Hall, Meštrović's Svetozar Miletić seems to be angry.
Literary romance
Behind the Church is a quiet square, the Catholic Porta. I don't remember it for the historical buildings, but for coffee in the garden of Athens and visits to the Cultural Center of Novi Sad. I went there for the first time in 1989. Sloba had already said what he said at Gazimestan, the mass movement was becoming ubiquitous. In the May-June issue of the literary magazine Polja, which cost an inflationary 1.000 dinars, they published almost an entire page of lyrical texts for me. I didn't know anyone from the newsroom. I decided to change that, so one summer morning I came from Belgrade - where I was a postgraduate in cultural sociology - to Novi Sad by bus. In short, the editorial office was colorful, chaotic, no one had time for me except Nedeljko, who took me to Petrovaradin, to the studio of a friend of his. Painters always have some wine in their stash, so in my trip from studio to studio in Petrovaradin, I talked a lot, leading crazy discussions with artists of all kinds. I don't remember what we discussed so vividly, but I know that I caught the midnight bus to Belgrade. The next day I woke up quite hungover in the dormitory in Karaburma.
Fields will remain a magazine in which I will publish more often than at other addresses. Already in the new millennium, I promoted the translation of the novel in the Cultural Center of Novi Sad Dove's heart Melinda Nađ Abonji, and a few years later a book of her own. Once, the poet and publisher Nenad Šaponja took me to his favorite bars for wonderful craft beers.
If I add to all that reading in the city's National Library, several overnight stays in the old hotel Vojvodina as a guest of Branko's car, several discussions in the sumptuous Gallery of Matica Srpska, then it turns out that after Sarajevo, until now, Novi Sad was the best place for me to socialize with literature. That city is my second literary homeland. For some comrades from the Tuzla days, such as Pero Mandić and his wife Danijela, Novi Sad really became a refuge. But they came to create something - the Novi Sad Humanitarian Center is their child. The invented division into "newcomers" and old residents of Novi Sad overlooks the fact that newcomers are not only those who have difficulty adapting to the habits of their domicile, but also those who essentially ennoble the city.
From Telep to Liman
Needless to say, the food is good in this city. I've been in ethno taverns like Sokačet, in chards by the Danube, in wonderful fish restaurants like Aqua Doria. I would enjoy the garden of Pivnica Gusan in the summer. I had breakfast twice in Jamon, I drank cappuccino in cafes Le Piaf, Petrus or Atina. Compared to Belgrade, Novi Sad offers more for less money.
This time we also hung out in houses. In addition to Tontić, with whom I am bound by decades of literary and human friendship, we also visited a friend from our student days who went with us to Clapton's concert at the Belgrade Fair in 1984. Her husband, a top physicist, makes great cakes. And the daughter and son, both in their third decade of life, have a hilarious sense of humor.
They live in a nice apartment between Liman 1 and 2. I've heard that this is the Novi Sad measure of success, although Liman originally means a swampy area created by alluvium.
On the way out, we drive by the Unknown Hero Square. I wave at the statue that supposedly represents Janika Balaž. I imagine him coming down from the plinth of his monument with a tambourine so that he could play "stop the Danube and the old pointers" for our happy journey.
I would like to add these two to the series of days spent in Novi Sad. I am comforted by the thought that I am surely destined for many more precious moments from Novi Sad, and I consider this record unfinished.
Bonus video: