Having to deal with my least favourite city in the world is only icing on the crap-cake.
Belgrade. The city of unnecessary rush hours (it's not that the majority of people are doing anything really useful for the mankind), more than 50 shades of gray (in your face E. L. James) and completely unexpected and uncalled for - coffee prices.
From the first time I set foot in this hellhole they, oh so ironically call the White city, I knew we were not going to see eye-to-eye, ever. My first experience, I remember vividly, included several layers of fear, anxiety and a hysteria topcoat. And here, I am not overreacting. For a small town kid, Belgrade is an overwhelming mix of all sorts of stimuli - noise, crowds, smells etc., that cause this certain unsettling feeling that, in my case, still lingers.
In the eyes of a six year old, Belgrade was this gray beast that eats cars and machines, using lampposts as toothpicks. I didn't even care for the zoo at that time, and that was the only trick up my grandparents sleeve in their desire to organize a fun fun weekend for the fussy precocious kid I was.
From then on, me and Belgrade have had a strictly business relationship. I go there if I must, and it "tries" not to give me a headache, and I must say it has worked well. Up until now.
The tables have turned, and now it is my turn to impress Belgrade - at least the astrophysics community stationed there. I have to find a way for me and the Big White guy to work together, in a sort of a forced symbiotic manner. It sounds like fun, if you define fun opposite to the general public's view on the topic.
My only hope resides in the abundant nightlife and theater scene, that we here are deprived of. There is this tiny, nano-chance that I might regret my present attitude, and find myself enjoying the perks of a big city - but that is still to be seen.
To end on a positive note, I do not hate Belgrade more than Hitler, or vanilla, or gums stuck to my hair. That should be enough for a kick-start.