Immediately outside the station, heading up towards the fort, was that run down feel typical of many areas around stations, with plenty of artsy graffiti and a pair of what looked like highly starched, rigamotised and recently vacated trousers. I took a few pictures to enhance the grit and humour of this tome and pushed off.
Over the next few days in Belgrade, some other things I noticed:
- A proliferation of slot clubs and casinos (there was one attached to the Slavija);
- Gymnasia; a number of them;
- Adverts for Manchester United credit cards, predominantly in ‘swank’ Novi Belgrade;
- Posters advertising Damon Albarn concerts. For all his excesses over the years, Albarn looks well preserved. Inexplicably, the image chosen to entice people to go see him was a strained “cheeky chap grown old, gawping into the mid-distance like a tense Leonard Cohen”. Damon looked ready to leap off his sofa at any moment, on account of not being able to remember if he turned the gas off;
- Iron Maiden. Also gigging. Albarn’s image has had the odd mini-makeover; Maiden’s ads look like every other poster or promotion they’ve ever done. A striking, deeply shit house style.
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