Day #1
Happy New Year!!! It feels good to begin again. This year has an air of being a vital year. A seminal lap around the sun, for all of us.
Leaving for this journey was a journey unto itself. Packing up my entire life in New York, felt like riding a bike with no brakes and attempting to stop. As a former fixie kid, I knew exactly what muscles to use. To get through it I treated it like a production— treating my life like a project in pre-pro— one big task made up of a million little ones. Three months later and here I am.
When I finally left Bedstuy yesterday with nothing but 45lbs on my back it felt amazing. Just incredible. Leaving it all behind, and reducing my life to the bare necessities was daunting but it felt natural.
I am presently sitting in a little cafe in Belgrade Serbia, on a 14-hour layover on the way to my first adventure of the journey. Earlier today, I took a car into the city center and walked around until I found a place that looked like a solid place to eat and chill for a while. I found a place called “Tri Sesira.” This place was a gem. Built in 1864, it feels as old as it looks. The restaurant is on an old vintage street called Skadarlija which is the second most visited tourist attraction in Belgrade. This one street contributes one-third of the city's foreign income. Say what you will about “touristy areas” but usually the most frequented places holds a history worth learning and where once the cultural staples of a community and it’s history becomes an attraction for a reason. Even if it is just a small vestige of its former glory.
Being there, I felt like I should have come in with something to barter, like a sack of animal skins or that everyone at the tables around me was pondering the future… in the year 1900. Everyone smoked at the tables as if the idea of going outside was unheard of. I looked up the place and pleasantly found out that the place was and still is a hub for the creative and intellectual elite Writers, poets, journalists, athletes, and politicians near and far stop here and get into their “hedonistic” vices as their website says. They also started their own newspaper back in the day.
I found a story about a writer who frequented the place that was pretty poignant. As a video producer and storyteller with no job and flying by the seat of my undies, it spoke to me.
Excerpt from the Tri Sesira website
