A question mark hangs over the door of the city's oldest kafana, a stopgap name that stuck. Small surprises like that turn up everywhere. On the fortress ridge, the bronze Victor stands far from the square first planned for him, facing the meeting of the Sava and the Danube. Below, splavovi moored along the banks serve fish soup at lunch and music after dark.
Away from the fortress, Dorćol mixes old houses with small bars, and summer crowds head for the lake beaches of Ada Ciganlija. Summers are hot, winters bring snow, and the gusty Košava can flip an umbrella. A Local Friend pulls up a chair for you at a kafana you would never have found.
