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Safe arrived in the ancient Caravan-Serai/National Capital in the mountains of Bosnia, and waiting to set up the Humble Quarters.
Was excellent to return to Belgrade, if only for an afternoon’s glimpse. After the traditional tall Americano in my Starbucks office across from the national parliament, walked down to Studentski Park and spent some quality time with Henry James, and then back up King Alexander street after dark, with the scent of the popcorn vendors on a warm summer evening, annd hopped on the tram to the bus staiton at Zuk’s Spomonik…
…at which point the tram went out of service at St. Mark’s, due to the evening’s protests. So I double-timed it to the bus stop sideways from the Parliament to catch the bus to the train station (also the same one as to the House of Flowers/Pebbles, I think), with the thought of then hopping onto a commuter train across the river, but that arrival board kept spinning in the wrong direction, as perhaps it was going out of service as well. At this point, I discarded all modern mass-transit conveniences, and set out for Brankov Most, as the walk would be at least theoretically possible, if I ran for part of it. (The luggage storage at the bus station has changed their hours, and so I was carrying the knap filled with clothing, computers, cooking pans, etc.) At the bridge, logic dictated that I catch the first bus across, as all buses were going across the river, and the first one that I hopped on happened to be going right to the bus station. Deo gratias.
And so, then a mysteriously long bus ride into the mountains of Bosnia, and then a morning arrival at the capital city. (Where the theatre season starts up a month before other cities in the region.)
The Catechism says that to come to Christianity, one has to first feel the presence of God, or at least something there, in nature and existence as a whole. Then, the God of Abraham emerges in history, and this is the second step. Finally, the events that unfold within that history describe the Christian mystery. I went to the mountains, and I am now in a city where the calls to prayer echo out every evening.
There’s a divinity that shapes our itineraries, rough hew them as we may.