Despite the name, Novi Sad is far from sad. In fact, its openness, its
charm, and its slower rhythm give it a quiet happiness that softens Serbia’s rough edges, apt for the actual meaning of sad in serb, which is garden. Novi Sad offers a side of Serbia that contrasts
sharply with the intensity of the capital Belgrade, so much
energy, scarred yet unbroken after centuries of war and destruction. It just gives off something else entirely. It feels like a place where things seem to
breathe, pause, and slowed.. Case in point, in restaurants, it's normal to
expect to wait for food to be served, there's no need to rush, as if they have all
the time in the world.. which I truly appreciate, except that I was on a limited time.. and budget :(
Of this one-day affair, I spent a few hours in the Petrovaradin Fortress, which stands as the city’s sentinel, offering sweeping views of the Danube. I even met a friendly cat right there, which easily stole half of my time there. I especially liked the short hike up. And it some point, I did run up that hill. Thinking about it now, I'd make a deal with God and I'd get Him to swap places and be there right now.
Then I had to move and check other places. In Trg Slobode, or Liberty Square, the neo-Gothic spire of the Name of Mary Cathedral carves a striking landmark. Parks and promenades invite unhurried exploration, along the Danube’s edge, in shaded Dunavski Park, among swans and ducks gliding beneath the branches. It couldn't be less poetic than that, to put things in perspective, I fear. It was a chill midday stroll, despite the scorching heat, and the seemingly hurried vibe, al because of the limited time.
Not far away, the baroque town of Sremski Karlovci tells its story in cobbled streets (majority of details I totally forgot) and centuries-old wines (which I fully remember). But I was honored to try a glass of Bermet. Atop Oplenac Hill, the dazzling mosaics of the Church of St. George cover its walls in vivid color, tracing saints, rulers, and epics. Finally, beneath the church rest the tombs of the Karadordevic dynasty, where Serbia’s royalty lingers.
While Belgrade speaks of fire and survival, Novi Sad answers with serenity, culture, and subdued celebration. And to leave without experiencing both would be to walk away mid-conversation. In this balance of chaos and calm, scars and beauty, Serbia was easily among my favs. And in the small irony of its name, Novi Sad stands not as sad at all, but rather as the city where happiness gathers quietly.
