Photograph by Viseslav Kodzo Beria
It’s time to formally introduce Nemanja. I am frequently asked, 'Who is the Super Serb and how did we meet?'. It's easy to list a summary history, however I think an honest account of my experiences and observations of him will be more insightful.
Немања, in his native Serbian cyrillic, grew up in northern Bosnia & Herzegovina. If you're confused as how to pronounce his name, it’s 'Ne-ma-nya'. We met serendipitously after an encounter with a friend of his, Boris, at a hostel in Belgrade, in October 2016.
After visiting Belgrade, I planned to see a few cities in Bosnia & Herzegovina and decided to stop in Banja Luka to call in on my new friends from the hostel. I needed to reach Zagreb and Boris put me in touch with a fellow couchsurfer by the name of Nemanja who lives en route; Nemanja kindly offered to host me.
I took a bus 50km north to meet Nemanja in Gradiska, a small city on the border to Croatia, where he resides. Organising where to meet, Nemanja sent the following message:
“Hey Adam, I am awaiting you at bus station, tall, fat, bearded, ugly guy.”
He sounded great.
Our first coffee together. Left to right: Myself, Nemanja and Siniša.
It was easy to spot the 6ft7 (203cm) giant. We walked back to his house where he had prepared a hearty meal and we began swapping stories. I discovered he is quite the intrepid traveller. Nemanja had already made severalcycling tours across Europe and been on numerous hitchhiking adventures.
I needed to reach Zagreb the following afternoon but I would have loved to have stayed longer as he was such an interesting and friendly guy. He was definitely someone I wanted to stay in touch with.
In Spring 2017, Nemanja invited me on his next adventure, but I had other plans for the Eastern Bloc. He began his 10,150km cycle trip across Europe and the Caucasus in May. Nemanja traversed 14 countries in six months and returned home to Gradiska in November.
We both spent six consecutive months away and at times you become exhausted, mentally and physically. Around the time Nemanja was cycling through Chechnya, I was in Eastern Ukraine; both approaching possibly problematic areas, we'd call each other to share our concerns and get advice. It's important to have someone who understands and appreciates what you're doing and can comprehend what you're going through, someone who's always there and can encourage you to keep going when you're bone-tired and wabbit.
Nemanja was on a mission to return home for Slava, a Serbian Orthodox holiday. Family and friends come together for three days of food, Rakija (their national homemade spirit) and good company, celebrating their father's saint.
During summer, Nemanja invited me to Slava and I promised if I could afford it, I would go. My budget was virtually non existent but come November I found a £20 flight to Slovenia and hitchhiked the 300km to reach him.
Nemanja's mother, Gordana, prepared tasty treats for Slava.
Before we met in 2016, I drank from the Sebilj fountain in Sarajevo; it is said that if you do this, one day you'll return. I didn't expect this would be for some time, but now I had an unexpected reason to go.
The beautiful pseudo-Ottoman-style Sebilj fountain.
I was about to spend a significant amount of time with a man I’d been in constant contact with for the past year, but had only spent one day with. It was going to be interesting.
I knew approximately where he lived and recognised his house from memories of the previous Autumn. The gentle giant was out for coffee when I arrived at his home; his father greeted me and I waited inside with his sister, Snezana, until his return. We enjoyed a magnificent hugging embrace like two long lost friends, which I felt like we were.
My first morning back in Gradiska.
He was now significantly hairier than our previous meeting. He’d gone from a crew cut to something a little more wild. With a great big bushy beard, he was wearing his travels like a badge of honour.
I was slightly anxious as we were to spend the next few weeks together for virtually every hour, of everyday; this was going to test if our friendship would last and if it could allow us to travel together long term in the future. Would it be too much? We were both used to travelling solo.
Nemanja’s family are absolutely lovely. They made me feel like one of their own and frequently told me I was now their kin. Nemanja’s grandmother even knitted me a pair of Priglavci, traditional Serbian slippers!
I think it was interesting for his parents to meet a guy from a different culture who has similar ambitions and dreams to their son. It is typical in their culture (and in mine) to finish studying, start a career, find a partner and settle down in your mid-twenties, however, in the Balkans the pressure from your family to achieve this can be overwhelming. This is not what he had in mind.
He is an outlier in his country. Beside the lifestyle choice, not many people are brave enough to attempt what he has. For Nemanja, it is second nature, but he is inspiring and has such drive, pushing himself further than most are willing to go. Some of our earliest conversations were of how he travelled on only a few Euros each day; in 2017 I learnt first hand what this is like over the course of a few months - it’s hard.
I feel we share a similar mentality, which is why I was sure we’d be great travel partners - he was willing to take the hard road and deal with whatever was thrown in his way; the chances are he'd come out smiling.
Nemanja with his father, presenting to the local cyclist club.
It was amusing to see Nemanja treated as a local celebrity. Completing a six month cycle expedition through more than a dozen countries certainly earns you the position.
Having just returned from his journey, Nemanja wanted to rest and enjoy Slava. Even though he was glad to be home, he was itching to get back out again. We discussed going on a hitchhiking trip around his country when the festivities finished. I'm pretty certain no one else knew we were about to depart for another three weeks!
The Slava gang. Front left to right: Nikola, Sinisa and Boris. Back left to right: Adam, Dejan J, Radovan, Dejan G, Nikola, Nemanja and Mladen.
We spent a week at his home and then hit the road for Banja Luka as he'd been asked to appear on the Republic of Srpska’s RTRS TV morning show, and he took me with him. It was pretty funny; they were initially confused as to who I was and must have thought, “why not have a hitchhiker from London on too”. It’s quite something sitting in a TV studio with only €2 in your pocket, which was our situation.
Our debut TV performance.
Nemanja had organised to give a presentation of his recent adventures, at a local bar in Banja Luka; he asked if I would share my experiences and stories too. With our premiere behind us, I was excited at the thought of giving talks and sharing what I had learnt. We considered the idea that this could be a possible way to help fund the trip and put out a donation box at the end of the talk for anyone who wanted to support us. We didn't expect anything but if someone enjoyed our two hour stint, it was up to them to value it how they felt. The possibility grew of travelling without being destitute. Together we’d share our story, what we’d learnt and how it felt to live on the road for extended periods of time on such a small budget.
It was very well received and each talk raised enough to cover our food costs until the next city, where we’d give another talk.
Hitchhiking in -5°c, we waited for an hour.
Soon we arrived in Mostar, where you can find the first ever statue of Bruce Lee; the city unveiled the sculpture one day before the more popular sight in Hong Kong.
Yes he really is that tall...
Nemanja studies history at the University of Banja Luka and knows a great deal about not only his own European region, but world history also - much of which he learnt independently. He shares my passion for abandoned and derelict places; the combination of these ingredients make him an unusual and venturesome guide.
Visiting places like the Abandoned Aircraft Hangar outside of the Mostar, Nemanja is in his element and can reel off a comprehensive history of the location. He once gave an unofficial tour for his friends when visiting Belgrade's history museum of Tito and Yugoslavia. His knowledge enticed other tourists to join him, much to the dismay of the official guide.
Exploring the abandoned aircraft hangar was a very exciting day.
I had the opportunity to meet many of Nemanja’s friends. It was interesting that age isn’t a barrier like it can be in the United Kingdom. Though we may claim not to, typically our friend circle is within ten years of our own age. Nemanja’s didn’t have this limitation and we’d often meet, socialise and be hosted by his friends of different generations. The knowledge and position of one's life meant experiences, ideas and hospitality could be shared, which is a wonderful cycle that will pass on the wisdom.
Dragan, possibly the coolest priest in the world with his backup dancers.
After a month together, we hadn’t killed each other in their sleep - there were plenty of opportunities as we couchsurfed for much of the trip and shared a sofa or bed at least a half dozen times. We’d battled sickness, uncertainty and empty wallets together.
Could he be mistaken from Rambo in First Blood Pt I?
We covered over 1,150km by thumb and visited nine cities, including the three capitals of each region. It certainly strengthened our relationship and now I know for sure he can handle a difficult style of travel. He had told me many times of his adventures and living on a shoestring budget but I had to see it for myself; I needed to know how he handles situations and if we’d reach any limitations.
Not once did he say, ‘no, it's too much’.
Tired, hungry, flu-stricken and cold he pushed on. I hope I was as graceful.
Our hitchhiking route around Bosnia & Herzegovina.
Hitchhiking trucks, feeling likes kings.
At times we did become frustrated; I saw a glimmer of fatigue on a particularly hard day. We were trying to find accomodation at night after being on the road all day in subzero temperatures. We had walked 12km and had eaten one meal over the past 20 hours - this would test most people. Nemanja pushed on and supporting each other we made it. There was no tension between us but a mild level of exhaustion. Moving around in this capacity is difficult, especially during winter.
I learnt a great deal about my companion. He's a stand-up guy who is willing to go the distance, literally. We get on incredibly well and have a similar sense of humour. A group of volunteers in a friend's hostel thought we were having a real bromance.
We made the papers!
Recently Nemanja took part in Epiphany. Dozens of Serbs jump into an icy river, diving to find a Holy Cross. I'm already deciding on what colour Speedos I should pack for next year's...
We shared a wonderful month adventuring, learning and laughing. I experienced real Balkan hospitality and hope to have enriched Nemanja's experience in some way.
We’re currently planning a sustainable way to continue our adventures; it's time to think to the future. I thoroughly enjoyed giving presentations and would love to do more. For our final performance of this trip a large group took us out for Burek after.
This year we're hoping to embark on an extended adventure to the Caucuses. We’ll continue sharing our story and hope to inspire others to get out into the world and experience it for themselves. It's an outlet I never thought I'd have but it's one I enjoy very much.
Travelling with Nemanja was an absolute pleasure and I look forward to sharing more tales with him.
So until next time, here's looking at you.
