Zagreb- Trnje

The 10.25 train from Belgrade, Serbia to Zagreb, Croatia was a bit better than its predecessor in that it was cleaner and more comfortable. However, again there were no announcements about which platform it left from, and none of the TV monitors or platform screens were working. Few of the railway folk spoke English so you really had to keep your wits about you or risk missing your train. After finding my carriage, I noted that the seat I had reserved was taken up by a young Serbian mum and her child. As it was very busy I had no option but to point this out, only to be shooed away by her. ‘You can sit elsewhere, and anyway I have a kid.’ The ‘kid’ looked like a spoiled wee brat and sneered triumphantly at me. Rather than argue, I moved along the carriage and found two unreserved seats. I remember as a child how my Mum taught us always to give up our seats for the elderly - how times have changed. And if that child played ‘Old Macdonald had a farm’ one more time on that bloody gadget of his, I swear I would have thrown it out the window.

At the Serbian-Croatian Border, the by now usual searches involving screwdrivers, mirrors and panels coming off various train compartments were undertaken. Two black guys sitting behind me were quizzed about having no passports, which they said they had forgotten. After much arguing and toing and froing, they were huckled off the train and never seen again.

Arriving in Zagreb, Croatia was a revelation - what a beautiful city. So clean, bright and well organised, unlike some of the other former communist states. Lovely squares and gardens appeared around every corner, and gleaming modern trams glided by silently. For the first time on my trip, I booked into an apartment for the night, just round the corner from the station in an old 19th century building. I had two large rooms plus bathroom all to myself and the young female owner seemed proud of her eclectic art collection. For the first time I had a piano in my bedroom - anyone for a singalong?

In the building next door was a laundrette, and the woman who ran it helped me use it. What a pleasure it was to get all my laundry washed and dried while sitting outside with a local beer from the adjacent cafė run by the same woman. She’s got a good wee business there.

As it got dark, I made my way to the large square around the corner where there was a free classical music concert taking place. How lovely it was on a balmy evening sitting listening to a 50 piece orchestra with a choir and soloists in this beautiful, manicured square with fountains that worked. As wee Jean McCormack would say ‘Aye, we’re anointed’.Read more