Later we promenaded through the garden like everyone else, enjoying the midday warmth of a last dry autumn day – the browns, yellows, reds and dissolving greens.
THE YOUNG GIRL RUNS A SHORT DISTANCE FROM HER FATHER TO PLAY ON THE BANDSTAND.
It ought to be the "Radetsky March", and there should be young men in Hussar uniforms, and walking arm in arm with women holding white lace parasols, while the military band plays on.
But this is now the city of "Turbo-Folk" (nationalist music); close by on the ornate wrought iron and wood park bench, the young woman is sitting astride her boy-friend. They kiss passionately, the SLEEK STYLE tightness of their jeans hardly separating cloth from cloth.
Then on south along the pedestrianised Kneza Mihalia, Cyrilic letters give way to Roman, and there are names like Prada and Top Shop. Café society, boys and girls out walking. Sleek. Here everyone is sleek. Some are beautiful, but few actually have the money to buy.
On out along the "Terazije" of the Kneza Mihalia, the Terrace; the long 1000 metre Boulevard along the central ridge of the city, the crowds on wide pavements now joined by cars and buses in the wide street; the "Terazije" that joins Kalemegdan to the Sanctuary of Saint Sava, fortress direct to church, church direct to fortress, to remind that Belgrade is frontier and here all walking is upon an edge.
mmj