VISIONERSKI TRANSPORT

liaisons-magazin.de

back, rikverc, zurück

Visionerski Transport transformed, we stayed ashore for a while and founded an association for cultural exchange in Belgrade and soon there will be an association in Leipzig too. we wanna do projects, meet people, we wanna learn, speak and listen, we want to spend time togehter and travel and we wanna work on making things possible

Some more of the story and what we are doing now you can read and see on http://visionerskitransport.wordpress.com/

The blog where you are now is the space of our raft trip, some kind of archive and hopefully the beginning of more and more journeys.

Wir kletterten über die Reling des Arka Barka. Fünf Minuten später stieg Tica die Landungsbrücke hinab, der glorreiche Mitorganisator des abendlichen Konzerts und Sänger und Gitarrist von Manisent i Mentalnost. Er schien unter der Last der Verantwortung zusammenzubrechen und ich bot ihm erstmal ein Bier an. Anstatt jedoch beim Technik reintragen zu helfen fuhr ich lieber mit Nora und Selma Kerzen und Bier kaufen. Hinterm Hotel Jugoslavija links. Als wir zurückkamen war bereits alles aufgebaut. Das Floss hatte mit der Vorderseite an der schmalen Terrasse des Hostels geparkt, was die Bänds dazu zwang sich irgendwie hintereinander aufzustellen auf ca. 2,50 mal 4 meter. Rechts auf unserer Sitzbank hatten wir unsere Grablichtsammlung aufgebaut und entzündet, was wie ich später erfuhr, zu rauchvergiftungsähnlichen Bewusstseinszuständen bei den Bänds führte.

We climbed over the
railing of the Arka Barka. Five minutes later Tica descended down the gangway,
the glorious co-organizer of the evening concert and singer and
guitarist of Manisent i Mentalnost. He seemed to collapse under the
burden of responsibility and I offered him a beer at first. However,
rather than to offer carrying the technical stuff inside, I drove with
Nora and Selma to buy candles and beer. Behind Hotel Jugoslavija, to
the left. When we returned everything was already established. The raft
had parked with the front on the narrow terrace of the hostel, what
forced the bands to place themselves on about 2.50 times 4 meters.
Right on our bench, we had our grave light collection installed and lighted, what had caused states of smoke poisoning in
the bands, how i later found out.

An Obrenovac waren wir glatt vorbeigerauscht, es war einfach zu dunkel. Da eine laute Strasse, das Südufer vergällte, parkten wir an der Baricka Ada, einem grillenreichen, verwilderten Ufer. An Land zu gehen erschien hier unmöglich. einfach zu schlammig, also ankerten wir. Abends zog noch schnell ein Gewitter in einiger Entfernung vorbei, uns Angst einzujagen. Rückwärts nach Obrenovac wollten wir nicht mehr, also liessen wir uns am morgen einfach weitertreiben, an der Insel vorbei. Wir waren bei Km 18 angelangt, nur noch 8 Flusskilometer bis zur Ada Ciganlija, der grossen Save-Insel, die den Anfang von Novi Beograd markiert. Weiter trieben wir nun häufiger an Industrieanlagen und Brücken vorbei, an Heizkraftwerken und Schiffstankstellen. Viele dieser Orte waren 1999 Ziele der Nato-Angriffe gewesen. Gegen Nachmittag waren wir hungrig und am rechten Ufer kamen uns nun häufiger kleine Städte wie Umka und Ostruznica entgegen. In letzterem Ort sahen wir nun ein Restoran, ein früheres Zollhaus an der Grenze zwischen türkischem und austroungarischen Einflussbereich. Dort probierte ich zur Abwechslung mal wieder Fischsuppe und kaltes Bier. Irgendwie hatte das frühe Aufstehen der letzten Tage doch an der Substanz gezehrt und wir zogen uns bald in die Schlafgemächer zurück. Am nächsten morgen wurde schnell die minimalistisch eingerichtete Pekara Ostruznicas aufgesucht, Brot gab es, dann mussten noch die Plakate für das ja bereits heut abend stattfindende Konzert mit Manisent i Mentalnost, Multietnička Atrakcija und Strašni Haremski Čuvari
gemalt werden, war nur noch 15 km bis zum Konzertort, dem ArkaBarka, gegen 18 Uhr wollten wir ankommen.

Obrenovac to Belgrade - last curves
We were rushed smoothly beyond Obrenovac, it was simply too dark. As a
noisy street malfunctioned the southern bank, we parked at the Baricka
Ada, a bank full of cicades and desolation. To go ashore here seemed
impossible. simply too muddy, so we anchored. Evening drew even more
quickly a thunderstorm at some distance past, to make us afraid. To go
back to Obrenovac, we no longer wanted, so we just drifted further on
in the morning, along the island and beyond. We had arrived at Km 18,
only 8 kilometers to Ada Ciganlija, the big island in Sava, which marks
the beginning of Novi Beograd. Next we drove more frequently along factories, power plants, bridges and ship petrol stations. Many of
these places have been  goals of the NATO attacks in 1999. Towards afternoon, we were hungry and on the right bank drifted by more
small towns like Umka and Ostruznica. In the latter city, we
saw now a Restaurant, a former customs house on the border between
Turkish and austro-hungarian sphere of influence. I then tried again
for a change, fish soup and cold beer. Somehow, the early rising in
recent days, had eaten on our substance and we escaped quickly into the
sleeping rooms. The next morning quickly i visited the Pekara of
Ostruznica, minimalist shop that was, they had some bread. Then still
the posters for the concert with Manisent i Mentalnost, Multietnička
Atrakcija and Strašni Haremski Čuvari had to be painted, it was only 15
km left, it should start around 6pm at ArkaBarka, we wanted to arrive.

22 Uhr, 27th August in Munich

Im Radio spielen sie „Take me back to my boat on the river“. Vor 15 Stunden war ich auf dem boat, auf dem splav. Zeitverschiebung. Raumverschiebung. Zurück. In der Stadt. Keine Minengefahr. Kein Odakle ste. Keine Beschränkung auf 7 x 4 m. Umdenken. Schnell. I did travel back. Brzo.

On radio they play „Take me back to my boat on the river“. 15 hours ago I have been on the boat, on the splav. Change of time. Change of room. Back. In the city. No danger of mines. No odakle ste. No limitation on 7 x 4 m. Rethinking. Fast. I did travel back. Brzo.

 

Sremska Mitrovica was left through the notorious bridge. Weather was doing fine, after some river kilometers we saw an obscure object in the distance. As we came closer it turned out to be the sunken german army boat from first world war, that the Capetane in Mitrovica already had mentioned. Some raft was anchoring next to it and a small beach was around it. The people who were on the raft waved at us and asked if we had beer to share with them. We decided to stop, though we had none. They were there on holiday, fishing, their children and one young female black dog with them. They invited us for Rakija and local sausage, what we werent able to reject. And on we drifted, next stop should have been Drenovac, but we could make it only to Jarak, a village easily to identify from the river, with a fish restoran looking down from a hill. We wanted to leave next day, but then it started to rain heavily, and we sunk into a kind of sundaily trance (though it wasnt sunday), eating pancakes drinking kava. The owner of the mentioned restoran looked friendly at our adventure and invited us for a big pot of fish paprika soup, local favourite. In the afternoon we decided to leave and finally landed in some settlement consisting mostly of weekend houses near Sabac, where we spent the night. Next morning we went on while rain was still pouring on our small cottage. Close to Sabac there were some low waters what hadnt happened to us for some while. We stopped near the ruins of the old turkish Kamicak, a former castle of medieval times. There it came to our minds that something was missing, we had forgotten the anchor... I went back by bicycle, passing some interesting cottages on the banks, which were mostly built on stilts with very individual architectural styles. The anchor was still in place where we left it and we could explore Sabac, which stretches itself away from Sava...