DAYS 6–7. From Tara National Park to Novi Pazar

After leaving Tara National Park, we soon arrived in the small town of Mokra Gora, where a scenic train takes tourists through forests and mountains. This is part of a narrow-gauge railway that once connected Belgrade with the Adriatic coast. A section of this route (15 km) has now been restored and operates from April to October. Twice a day (at 10:30 and 13:30), the train takes tourists on a non-stop ride to the Šargan Vitasi station (45 minutes). Then, in half an hour, it goes back making four stops for its passangers to enjoy the views and take photos.

We weren’t able to book tickets in advance (the phone numbers we found online turned out to be incorrect; as we later discovered, the correct number is 0113602899), and by the time we arrived, all tickets were sold out. However, the ticket office continued selling standing tickets (for the same price of 120 dinars, of course), so we decided to travel standing. This route is also known as the Šargan Eight (Šarganska osmica), as on one of the sections the track forms a complete figure eight.

Stopića Cave, where we headed next, is what’s known as a sinkhole cave, so there are almost no stalactites or stalagmites in it. However, it features a very interesting sight: dried travertine barriers that resemble miniature “fortress walls” of a doll-like castle. They are high enough that the basins they form, if filled with water, could serve as standing bathtubs. There is also a passage leading to some kind of channel, but it was closed due to repair works.

Our next stop was also in nature, at Gostilje Waterfall. The waterfall is small, but quite charming.

Evening was approaching, so we rushed to Mileševa Monastery, afraid of being late (monasteries in Serbia are usually open from 7:00 to 19:00, sometimes from 8:00). We arrived just before seven, and while no one asked us to leave after closing time, the guard sternly warned us about the no-photography rule, producing some kind of badge—almost like a sheriff’s—for extra effect. The 13th-century frescoes are very impressive, although only a few have been well preserved.

Day seven began with a cruise along the Uvac River—one of the highlights of the trip. The story of booking the tickets must be told here, as it perfectly illustrates what Serbia is like. I booked tickets on the Serbian Adventures website, selecting the date, time, and the services we needed. The reservation we obtained by a return mail had a booking number, but no request for payment, which seemed strange. After some time, I got a message from them: “The company operating the cruise will contact you regarding payment.” I waited. And waited. Nothing. I wrote to that company (fortunately, the contact address was provided), and finally got a reply—and everything started from scratch: what date, how many people, the price. From the first company I had ordered the lunch and a transfer to the viewpoint, thinking that if they offer this service, it is better to be donе. The second company’s reaction was: “We can arrange all that, even though relevant people are on vacation—but why do you need it? The viewpoint can be reached by a quite decentr road, and there’s a restaurant there.” Perfect, thank you. Again, not a word about payment, but there were instructions: arrive at 9:45 and call the “driver.” OK.

We arrived in time and I called the driver. This time, my usual way of communicating in Serbia – using a mix of words from different Slavic languages, with an attempt at a Serbian accent – didn’t work. Eventually, we managed to find out that a group of Hungarians had booked a trip for 9:30, and he had simply set off with them at that time. Fortunately, a woman appeared – she turned out to be the driver’s mother. She called him, led us down to the water (there’s no pier, just steps carved into the ground), and soon we saw the boat returning to pick us up.

The cruise itself was fascinating – the meanders of the Uvac are truly unique. There’s a spot where two bends of the river are separated by just a few meters. As a finale, they take you into the so-called Ice Cave, which actually has no ice (perhaps it once did), where reaching the entrance requires climbing a short but steep staircase. The “tourist” section of the cave is about 800 meters long, with the final stretch over large rocks. There are quite a few stalactites; photographing them in the cave’s total darkness is possible due to powerful flashlights distributed to visitors and the high light sensitivity of modern smartphone cameras.

After the cruise, we drove along an asphalt road up to the “Molitva” (a Prayer) viewpoint, from where both the eye and the camera can capture a large part of the Uvac’s zigzagging bends. We were also lucky enough to spot a soaring griffon vulture – the king of these lands.

We had a tasty lunch right there at the top, in a small eatery run by a cheerful Muslim owner (we were already in southern Serbia, a region with a predominantly Muslim population), who entertained his guests with jokes – while charging quite a bit. As a vegetarian, I had to be satisfied with pita with cheese – the Serbian version of Turkish börek, differing from the original mainly in shape.

Another long drive, and we arrived at Sopoćani Monastery (officially “Tsar’s Lavra Sopoćani”), which was added to the UNESCO list back in 1979. Unlike most rather unremarkable Orthodox churches in Serbia, the Church of the Ascension at Sopoćani Monastery is built in the Romanesque style.

Inside, the walls are entirely covered with 13th-century Byzantine-style frescoes, some of which are very well preserved. The most impressive is the enormous 30-square-meter fresco of the “Dormition of the Mother of God” in the central nave. Photography is officially prohibited, but no one really enforces it – even the priest looked at me with complete indifference while I clicked my camera. Tomorrow more monasteries and nature are waioting for us.

DAY 8. Novi Pazar and More

Novi Pazar (“New Bazaar” in translation) is a Muslim city. It is home to Bosniaks—Serbs who converted to Islam during Ottoman rule. Interestingly, of all the regions that were under Ottoman control for a long time, and there were quite a few, it was only in the area of present-day Bosnia that conversion to Islam became widespread. AI explains this by a combination of economic advantages, social pressure, and the fact that Bosnia had its own “heretical” Bosnian Church, which was not firmly tied either to Catholicism or Orthodoxy, making the population less resistant to religious change. Adopting Islam made it possible to preserve property, gain privileges, and avoid high taxes. Islam has left its mark on both the appearance of the city and the clothing of its residents (mostly women, although only a few with their faced covered completely, which fact offers a chance to see that the city has much more than an everage number of beautiful girls and women).

In some places, we saw Palestinian flags. Yesterday, we even spotted a Hamas flag. There are many gold-buying shops—something typical for cities like this (like the old town of Skopje, also largely populated by Muslims. There, I was told that such shops often serve as a front fo some less respectable activities. I don’t know if that’s true, but their number is disproportionately large).

We took a short walk around the city, reaching an old mosque with a beautiful minaret and unusual masonry work, but unfortunately it was under renovation. We had an excellent coffee and continued on to the Đurđevi Stupovi Monastery (literally “The Pillars of St. George,” named after the two square towers on its western façade), dating back to 1178. The monastery stands on a hill in a very scenic location. The frescoes are moderately preserved—many have not survived, and those in better condition have been moved to a museum.

The frescoes in the separate funerary chapel of King Dragutin are better preserved, but unfortunately I cannot corroborate this with photos.

Our next destination was Studenica Monastery, the most important monastery in the country. The first construction works on the monastery buildings were completed here in 1196, and in 1230 a large narthex was added – looking more like a church hall than an enclosed porch or vestibule wich narthex is supposed to be. The Ottoman invasion, an earthquake, and a fire caused significant damage to the complex. In 1314, the church was rebuilt, equiring its current Romanesque-Byzantine appearance. The early 13th-century frescoes have not been fully preserved, but enough remain to make the visit worthwhile. Once again, there is a massive fresco of the Dormition of the Mother of God. I managed to persuade the guard to let me take a photo of it—and then a couple more. He wasn’t as strict as the one with the badge. Outside, the church is partially clad in marble.

From Studenica, we headed toward the Maglič Fortress. The fortress, with its eight towers and a central keep, stands on a high hill and is believed to have been built in the 12th century. To reach it, you need to cross the small Žičica River. The crossing operates from 8:00 to 18:00 every day except Monday and costs 200 dinars. The turnoff to the crossing is easy to miss—if you see a café on the left side of the road, you’ve gone too far, so go back about 100 meters. Every two hours (at 10:00, 12:00, etc.), one crossing is free.

From there, a trail winds its way up around the hill to the fortress. Although the path is well maintained, the climb is long and requires considerable effort. We didn’t quite have the energy for that challenge.

Our next stop was Žiča Monastery, dating back to the early 13th century and dedicated to the Dormition of the Mother of God. More modest than Studenica, but still impressive in its own way. The frescoes, once again, are not very well preserved.

DAY 9. Monasteries and Nature

Leaving our overnight stop—Kruševac, a rather unremarkable town (like most peripheral towns in Serbia)—we continued our journey through Serbian monasteries. The first was Ravanica Monastery, built in the late 14th century and dedicated to the Ascension of Christ. The monastery is the burial place of Prince Lazar, the ruler of these lands, who died in 1389 in the Battle of Kosovo against the Ottomans, which made the monastery a popular pilgrimage site. Ravanica was repeatedly damaged, both during Ottoman attacks and in later centuries. It was once surrounded by defensive walls with towers, parts of which still can be seen today, along with some late 14th-century frescoes.

When even the most resilient among us (me) began to feel that the number of monasteries was becoming excessive, we were in for a surprise. Arriving at the next site, we thought we had the wrong address: instead of a monastery, massive fortress walls rose before us. But it is within these high walls that Manasija Monastery and its church are located.

It is a true fortress, built according to all defensive principles, with a keep integrated into the walls—the Despot’s Tower. In case of a siege, the despot (the ruler) and his family would take refuge there. By pulling up the ladder behind them, they could hold out for months.

We learned all this—and much more—from a very pleasant young woman we met in the church, who turned out to be a local volunteer guide. Her story was a wonderful addition to the highlight of the day. Interestingly, she was married to a Muslim—something not very common in these parts.

I managed to persuade her to allow me to take one photo, and then quietly added a couple more without permission. Once again, a large fresco of the Dormition of the Mother of God caught my attention—a popular theme in local monasteries.

And then it was time for nature. First—Krupajsko Vrelo, a spring emerging from a cave, forming a small lake and continuing as a stream. In a small channel, diverted from the main stream you can see thousands of trouts raised by a nearby restaurant.

Then we headed to Resava Cave and managed to catch the last tour at 16:30. Inside the cave, there are several great spots for photos, with stalactites and beautiful rock formations.

To finish the day, we visited Veliki Buk Waterfall—not very full, but peacefully murmuring with its streams.

The end of the day wasn’t very successful: for a number of technical reasons, it took us a full three hours to reach our accommodation near Bor Lake—much longer than the distance would normally require.