JT14-Wonders of the White City

It’s June 2019.  I’m hungover.  I’ve just touched back down on British soil after conquering yet another European city through alcohol induced charm.   I hug my mates and congratulate Jimbo on yet another epic trip.  I tell him that I can’t wait to do it all again next year……  well you all know what happened next.  

I can honestly say that throughout all the pandemic shenanigans the thing I missed the most was walking into an airport, not knowing where I’m headed, to greeted by Jimbo who hands me a boarding pass with a wry smile on his face.  Fast forward 3 years and I’m walking into Luton airport and there’s the man himself with that trademark smile holding said boarding pass.  We’re back!!!!

Our destination is the Serbian capital Belgrade.  This is a personal JT milestone for me as I have been badgering Jimbo for the last 10 years to mark this particular dot on the map so needless to say I am excited to venture to Eastern Europe once again.  So strap up your backpacks and get ready to live out the wise words of Frank Turner - “if you’re all about the destination then take a fucking flight we’re going nowhere slowly but we’re seeing all the sights”.   

After some intense airport taxi negotiations which ended with Jimbo, Stevie, RP & Patch all cuddling each other on the backseat of a Skoda (the taxi driver cleaned up) we land in the city centre.  As is customary on JT, the moment we touch down on foreign soil the goal is to get ourselves to the old town and sample the local Pivo & Meat platters as soon as possible.  Jimbo had a culinary destination in mind thanks to a recommendation from his trusty guide book which naturally had to be a hike in the opposite direction to civilisation.  After a few wrong turns and a lot of moaning and groaning from the author of this blog we are soon sat in a local kafana supping the finest pilsner and chewing on a delectable assortment of local meat.  Life is good (for now). 

Desperate to get rid of our backpacks in the sweltering heat which will be the backdrop for this trip (it is insanely hot here) we decide to head towards our digs for this evening.  Now it should be noted that I have noticed that Jimbo is being uncharacteristically sheepish about our dwellings for tonight which I’ll admit is making me slightly nervous.  Given the fact that it’s about a 7 mile walk uphill to get there (or at least that’s what it felt like) I figured that was the reason for his low-key approach to tonight’s digs.  I was wrong. 

Remember that Frank Turner song I mentioned earlier?  Well shortly after that lyric he also references “going to hell”…   An irony it seems that isn’t lost on our hostel hosts for our first evening here.  I wouldn’t say our hostel was hell on earth but I reckon it’s about as close as you’ll get to Purgatory.  Think “The Adam’s Family” with more dogs, building renovations and an array of strange inhabitants.  The fact they built a bed for Patch to sleep in front of us kind of tells you all you need to know about how prepared our hosts were for our arrival.  I love that this place is “promoted” as adequate on their website - god help the poor souls that are sleeping somewhere that isn’t adequate tonight. 

After the quickest turnaround in the history of JT we are out with the locals and revelling in pastures new.  Which ultimately culminates with us following a local nightclub bouncer to his place of work which happens to be a party boat on the river.  Plenty of games of finger spoof are played and soon we are mixing it up with the Serbian youths on the dance floor before returning to Purgatory to call it a night.  

This town is bang on brand and has got all the makings of a great JT stop.  I for one can’t wait to see where tomorrow takes us.  Fingers crossed I don’t have to sleep like a refugee for another evening but I wouldn’t bet against it. 

It’s good to be back. 

SG

41 Cities,14 tours over 15 years and this is the first time I’ve woken up with a dogs balls in my face…….this was courtesy of Rex the hostel dog who either wanted to pin you down or shag you.

This hostel must be the weirdest one we have ever stayed as well as being the most likely establishment to be closed for multiple health and safety breaches. The kitchen area was a building site with homeless people hanging around painting pictures…..if you come out of the shower and press the light switch with wires hanging out you are going home with Wizz air in a body bag……although they did give us a free beer so I’ve given them -10/10 on hostel world!

So we left the worlds most likely hostel to murder you and we headed to a hostel with a lot better rating. We passed a massive church so that was an obvious ‘quick church is a good church’ stop - RP was hanging out badly and was odds on the regurgitate last nights terrible take away into the baptismal font so we had to get some fresh air.

After checking into our new hostel it was time to start a bit of R & R…….so we headed to an amazing beach 10 mins outside the city.

Unlike days gone by with sweaty walking tours we spent the day relaxing by the water, swimming, drinking and generally having a great time…..plus the standard of Tempe fruit and veg was world class so kept up our vitamin intake!

This city is really growing on us…….there’s a good chance it’s gonna break into the top 5 of all time.

East

We started the day feeling refreshed from our spa day at the sava. Shauny was up early keen to get going on the walking tour and soak up the cultural sights of Belgrade, who were we to stop him, he didn’t even want to wait for the newly instated pilates classes.

We headed to the square to check in for the walking tour which started 30mins before we arrived, standard. Patrick Allen showed his tour virginity by asking a question, you could see the anger rise in Shauny G, but as quickly as it came it subsided as his thoughts drifted to a quinoa salad for lunch.

It took us 14 tours but we finally found the gold standard of walking tours. Within the first 5 minutes our host had spotted P Allen and had bonded over their joint passion for dick pics, at this moment Shauny G felt something deep inside his soul stir, would this be the first walking tour to keep him until the end, many had tried, but none succeeded, this would be truly tested when the Somersby flag flew high in the old fort like an army calling its troops to battle.

Due to the mandated educational nature written into the Jimbotours articles of memorandum, it is my duty to deliver the highlights of the tour. Serbia has been at the centre of too much conflict, with the city of Belgrade being besieged the most times in the history of humanity, there are several persons of historical significance and the Serbians place them in order of importance depending on their link to potatoes and beer the likes of Tesla and the man who brought political enlightenment to the country bringing up the rear. The cobbled streets of the bohemian area plays host to a local tradition of watching large groups of women breaking their ankles in their high heel shoes whilst their boyfriends go on ahead to make sure they have a beer in hand and a prime viewing position for the evening’s entertainment. We also learnt that if you saw a man walking down the street with a ripped shirt he had been attacked by his friends for becoming a new father, a sign of celebration, how very Serbian. Hopeful of a particular result in a certain football game, P Allens Hawaiian shirt looked like it wouldn’t survive the night and he couldn’t be more happy about it.

A flyby of the ? Katana delivers an unwritten invitation to the 200yr anniversary celebration in 2023, but as our regular readers will know, we never go back, so they’ll be no Finger Spoof (T M pending) at those celebrations. 

The tour ended at exactly 2 hours, the group turned and there with an ethereal glow standing strong was Shauny G, shoulder to shoulder with them, a tour of firsts indeed, what next, a pork knuckle replaced by a Caesar salad? I jest.

The call to arms was strong now and the Somersby flag was flying high, the perfect first beverage overlooking war island, all was well, but an expensive and slow beer would never keep hold of JT for long so off we went in search of an elephant in a tree but not even a white Russian could calm tour virgin P Allen, he was agitated as he stood there, bathed in the rainbow colours of the Belgradian savannah giant. A quick word with our host and he was on his way to his new spiritual home, Funk and Soul, with his heart full of hope the only way he wanted to leave there would be with a torn shirt on his back. The rest of the team joined an even more nervous man not long after.

94 minutes, 22 chicken wings, 5 BBQ ribs, 4 burgers and a chicken salad later we were heart broken, we had missed out on winning £20k and an impromptu trip to Montenegro, but if the truth be told Patrick Allen would have traded all of those chicken wings not to witness 3 goals in 5 minutes.

With his shirt intact but his spirit torn, there was only one thing for it, a 1 litre jug of long island ice tea and several rounds of A Grade Finger Spoof (TM pending) served with a curve ball Pina Colada for wee Stevie and a few trips through the turnstile to meet the man who cupped his balls.

With our belly’s full of alcohol we returned to the hostel, musical entertainment had been booked by the young travellers and Jimbotours never misses a booking. A tough crowd of 18 yr old Tik Tokkers were finally won over by a flawless Oasis classic, our work here was done, well nearly, beyond the political ramblings around the Russian Ukraine conflict, there was still advice that needed to be bestowed on the new generation from these veterans, words of wisdom that underpinned the essence of the movement that had become Jimbotours, our fearless leader bellowed “GET OFF TIK TOK AND LIVE FOR THE FUCKING MOMENT” the echoes rippled through the foundations of the city, a shocked 18 year old Japanese boy looked up towards JD, phone in hand and as the echoes faded a quiet Japanese voice appeared, “I was just texting my mum”. We don’t deal in specifics on Jimbotours, only concepts, hopefully the young Japanese lad took something away from his early morning with these behemoths of travel, maybe a new love of a band from Manchester or maybe a moment of reflection next time he texts his mum, that he really should be living for the moment. Whatever he takes from that night, we know that he will take it with him forever, that is the impact of Jimbotours, we don’t do it for ourselves, we do it for the one’s we, helping them on their path of enlightenment.

The morning would come, the White City would call once again, but not for these travellers, it was time to depart, to never look back, only forwards, only to JT15 and only with the thought of who will be there once again to educate the ones we meet, tour virgin P Allen takes away with him a new life experience as well as man of the tour, so powerful are these gifts  that 3 goals in 5 minutes fade gently away into the ether.

So long Belgrade, you started at 6.8 but definitely ended on a 10.

Which I didn’t 4 days ago as I was JD tour virgin. 

What a brilliant few days. 

As we board to go home a few reflections. 

New experiences are underrated, they’re good for the soul. Being out of your comfort zone is the only way to grow. Not speaking the local language relies a lot on hand movement and broken English.

It’s a true experience, it’s real. There are no bells and whistles, it’s organic. Its not for those that don’t want to be involved with the locals.

This is not for those that have to have creature comforts and that’s another beauty. 5 or 6 (think maybe 7) of us, some strangers, all in the same room. Interesting noises. 

Adds to the uniqueness.

It hopefully is the 1st of many.

Top jobs boys and thanks JImbo.