The rooftops from my balcony reminded me that I'd have to wind my way through a series of walkways and tunnels before I could reach the new bridge across the Sava.
The snow and ice on the ground had morphed into harmless traces of puddles as I blended in with the foot commuters at pedestrian rush hour. But I failed to remember the seemingly senseless signs I'd seen in the mountains and in areas prone to snowfall: "Bridge Surface Freezes Before Road Surface." There were some seemingly dry pathways, but they often turned into dead ends. I walked carefully and waffled between fears of slipping off the bridge into the water or slipping in front of a bus on the roadway.
Across the bridge I was able to take the old, stone stairway that was part of the original bridge that crossed the Sava.
I had found an image of it in an old photo of the fairgrounds that later became the German concentration camp, Staro Sajmiste.
Today I had a chance to photograph some more of the buildings that I believe were part of the original fair complex, including the building now housed by The English Book, a distribution office. One of the employees there told me that it was originally occupied by the Phillips Company and it was from there they they sent out the first television signals in Yugoslavia from the transmitter that still stands across the street.
Onward into what was once swamp land but became New Belgrade in the 1940s. The images in many ways remind me of home.
I walked past signs of progress and signs that there is life in Serbia.
I rounded the corner and walked past the typical communist apartment complexes that house a majority of the citizens.
Even though I stopped to take about 50 photographs, the journey only took a little more than an hour. I feel wonderful. Would someone remind me to get out of the car and out of the office and do some walking in California? It's so easy to forget.