Here’s What I Learned from My Trip to Rural Serbia: How Warm and Friendly the Local People Are

Tara National Park is a significant point in southern Serbia, and tourists visiting Serbia basically have to come and see it. Here, there are dense primeval forests, high and distant skies, winding rivers, emerald lakes, and wooden cabins in the woods—for those who love nature, they will feel like fish in water.

Along the way, I always booked guesthouses directly online, and in Tara National Park, I stayed in small wooden cabins in the forest. These cabins belong to private companies and are managed uniformly, some belong to local farmers who rented out their rooms for a little income. The room we booked belonged to the old man, who was one of them.

The car drove into the mountains and saw scattered wooden cabins in the forest. I was so happy that I almost rolled over on the grass. There were lots of wildflowers everywhere, and the companions collected many of them to take pictures.

I couldn't find the exact location of the old man's house, so I called him. It took about ten minutes, and a dilapidated old car drove quickly, and the car window popped out the old man's head, with a white beard and hair, shouting unintelligible Serbian at us.

It turned out that the old man's room was listed on the internet, and his English-speaking son and guests communicated with it. The old man's son works in another city, and he is in charge of receiving guests.

The old man waved his head, indicating that we followed him back, and the car flew back in the same speed as when it came, until it dropped its head in a wide place—the bird-like guy in the car said: This old man drives very fiercely!

I nodded, and the old man drove out a 'thousand-horse rolling flat ground' momentum!

The old man's house.

To be honest, I was a little disappointed when I first saw it. There was a canopy at the entrance of the house, and a vegetable greenhouse occupied half of the grass. There were clothes hanging at the entrance, a water pipe, and several small trees and a large lawn—it was not very literary, not concise, and not as I imagined, a fairy-tale wooden cabin in the woods.

But it's better to come, then be there.

This tree with many fruit trees soon attracted my interest. The shape of the fruit resembled a lotus root, but the surface was covered with fluffy peach skin.

I translated software and communicated with the old man with difficulty, asking the old man: What is this tree? Can the fruit be eaten?

The old man searched on his phone for a long time and told me: We call it peach, and it's not ripe yet, so it can't be eaten.

I asked again: What color does the fruit turn when it's ripe? If it turns yellow, it's ripe and can be eaten, right?

The old man's phone translation said: Deep yellow.

I estimated that the so-called deep yellow is probably orange-red. I saw the old man's expression, probably fearing that I would mistakenly think he didn't want to give it to me.

The old man's dog wagged its tail when it saw us, and then transformed into a gangster, lying lazily on the grass and watching the little chickens under his command.

In the old man's house, there were only the old couple and their son. When we arrived, the room was not fully cleaned, and the old man and his wife hurriedly exchanged bedding and sheets. The old man and his wife also kept apologizing to me while they were changing the sheets.

The old man called his wife Miki. I heard it twice, and I understood it. Every time I imitated the old man to call her 'Miki', she would laugh happily, hug me, and her face was flushed.

Actually, Miki is a shy old lady—no, Miki is 64 years old, thin, and looks very young, it's impossible to say she's an old lady.

The old man's apples were small but very sweet and crisp. I, who didn't like eating apples, ate one under the old man's enthusiastic invitation.

The old man's vegetable garden grew peppers, tomatoes, and cucumbers.

Little craftsman Yu Lin saw it and said: 'Let's pick some chili leaves to make a soup.' I exclaimed: 'Soup with chili leaves?'

I was also surprised by Miki, who was confused and full of surprise, with the same meaning as me: 'Can chili leaves be eaten?' I had never heard of it! But I believed Yu Lin's cooking, so I said to Miki: 'When we make dinner, please taste it.'

Our lunch was bacon stir-fried with green bell peppers, tomato and egg, fried chicken nuggets, cucumber salad, and chili leaf egg soup. The tomatoes and cucumbers were all picked from the old man's vegetable garden.

Miki, who had already eaten lunch, came to have lunch with us to taste chili leaves. She kept praising—maybe this praise was mostly polite, but I think there must be a certain meaning in it, that is, 'the amazing Chinese people can eat anything.'

The old man's husband was very respectful of Miki. No matter what he did, he would consult Miki. We picked a lot of cucumbers, peppers, and tomatoes from his vegetable garden and asked how much money to pay. The old man first asked Miki, and Miki shook her head repeatedly, so he told us not to pay.

It seems that Miki controls the household economy.

Peach pie. Pure original flavor, slightly sour, not sweet enough for me. Everyone was full after lunch, and there was a lot of leftover sweet pie.

The next day when we were packing our luggage, I told the bird-like guy: Even if we don't eat it, we should take it back.

We can't disappoint the old man's generosity!

The window was bright and clean. Miki also picked wildflowers and arranged them in a bottle.

The living standards of Serbians were higher than I imagined. Although the old man's house was in the mountains, there was a fully automatic washing machine, oven, microwave, and electric stove—everything we had in the city was here.

Because it was winter in the mountains, there was also a large fireplace in the living room.

On the small table in the room, the old man put a wooden tray with peach candy. I picked one, and after a while, I finished it.

The old man was a chef. He was busy making apple pie on the cutting board.

It turned out that they were the old man's dishes!

The old man respected Miki no matter what. No matter what he did, he would ask Miki for her opinion. We picked a lot of cucumbers, peppers, and tomatoes from his vegetable garden, and asked how much money to pay. The old man first asked Miki, and Miki shook her head repeatedly, so he told us not to pay.

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