Written by Indu
with edits by Caleb
During our drive to Niš, I was taken aback by the beauty of Serbia’s countryside. Our stay in Niš itself was amazing — a bustling little city with kind people and more good food than we could eat — but I was ready to move on to something a bit more quaint.
Initially, I started off looking for places to watch the sunset near Niš, but away from the city. This quickly evolved into much more. I stumbled upon something called Ethno Villages, a term I had never heard before.
Derived from the phrase Ethnic Villages, Ethno Villages are communities where the heritage of the Serbian people remains intact and alive in the village’s architecture, cuisine and daily activities. In most cases, Ethno Villages are scattered across rural mountain roads, where authentic Serbian culture has been able to thrive, away from the intrusion of city culture. Depending on the village you are staying in, you can partake in a variety of activities customary to that village, like making rakija (Serbia’s national drink), pickling the community’s food, creating local crafts, etc.
I was sold.
I loved the idea of taking a break from the city life to soak up some nature and culture. The Serbian people we had met so far had been very warm & we wanted to meet more. The only problem was that Caleb and I aren’t the types to make a lot of new friends by exploring the city nightlife or city daylife, or country nightlife, or life…We are socially awkward. An Ethno Village seemed like the perfect way to continue experiencing the Serbian culture and people without having to endure a night of awkward clubbing.
I looked for places on our route to Kolasin and stumbled upon the Ethno Village of Rajski Konaci, a little gem tucked away in the mountains near the town of Leusici. For $35 a night, we booked our 3-night stay.
Our drive from Niš to Rajski Konaci was prettier than we imagined. We passed through steep, green mountain roads that had the same orange-roofed houses we saw on our drive into Serbia. We have Caleb has driven in developing countries where the roads are poorly paved and the infrastructure is lacking throughout. Honestly, we expected the same from Serbia…but that was not the case. These roads were well maintained and even better than some of the roads I drove every day in California. It is clear to me that whoever manages the Serbian infrastructure takes a lot of pride in doing so, because it is some of the best I have traveled.
After a 3-hour drive, we saw a small entrance sign for “Rajski Konaci” and recognized the colorful little houses behind the sign. We had arrived.
We didn’t see an official parking lot, so we pulled into a small dirt lot where we saw a few cars parked and a man chopping wood. As we entered the lot to park, he locked eyes with us and put down his equipment. I got out of the car and started walking to him so I could let him know we are looking for Rajksi Konaci and ask if it’s okay to park there.
He wore a big hearty smile as I was walking towards him… which turned into a confused, but no less welcoming smile once I started to speak. He only spoke Serbian. He motioned me to walk with him and walked me across the street to the Rajski Konaci sign. There I could see the full, vibrant village in front of me. A tall, sweet looking Serbian woman came out and the man conveyed what I could only assume was “I think she is looking for you.”
Also with a smile, she shook my hand and welcomed me to the village in Serbian. I motioned to Caleb that we were at the right place and we proceeded to bring our things in. She did not speak any English but we somehow found a way to communicate as she guided us to the room.
As we walked to our cabin, I was happy to see that the village was even better than I could glean from the pictures. It sat on a modestly-sized stretch of land filled with orchards, fields, different plants, and vegetables. Across the road, the man we initially met worked, collecting and chopping lumber for the village to use.
The village itself had a lot of character. The shutters on each cabin were painted in vibrant colors, each of them different. The walkways were paved with cobblestone, while farm equipment like wheel barrows and watering cans were propped against the cabins. It’s so funny, in the states people create gardens and yards to look like this. Upcycling practical things to create a shabby chic look. Here, it is just the way of life.
We got to our room.
It was cozy and fully equipped. Private bathroom. A kitchenette. Two bedrooms. A comfortable living area with 3 single beds. There was a fireplace in the main room, which I was excited to use knowing that the weather over the next few days was going to be rainy and cold. We put our stuff down and Ceca (the woman who greeted us) asked us something in Serbian. We didn’t understand and she tirelessly tried to motion out what she was saying. Then she said the words “kafa” and motioned drinking coffee & eating. The universal language.
We told her yes and she walked us out to a big, red picnic bench. Before going into her kitchen to make the kafa, she pulled out a bottle of homemade liquor and asked “rakija?” This word we knew very well from our nights of rakija drinking in Niš and Sofia. We shook our heads yes. She filled two shot glasses, set the whole bottle down, and left. We wondered… how much are these shots? Is this whole thing ours to drink? Caleb downed his shot and didn’t contemplate long before pouring another and another, and…
Ceca came back shortly with two cups of espresso and a telephone. She was talking to someone on the phone in Serbian and the only word I understood was “Americans.” After a few seconds, she handed the phone to me. In English, a man said “hello” and welcomed me to Rajski Konaci. He explained that Ceca doesn’t speak English, but if we need anything or are having a hard time communicating, to give him a call.
He gave us some minor details about the village and told us we are welcome to eat with them. Breakfast was $5 each, while lunch and dinner were $10 each. Kafa and rakija are included! Ceca cooks all of the food in her kitchen and we are welcome to sit anywhere to eat. Eager for authentic home cooking & not having to worry about the logistics of finding food, we told him we would eat all of our meals with them.
We said our goodbyes and I gave the phone back to Ceca. A few minutes later she brought out enough food to feed 10 people and placed it on the table for us. Slow cooked beans that reminded Caleb of the ones his mom would make, pork stew, a variety of cheeses, crispy sliced tomatoes, homemade apricot jam, bread, and for desert, cherry filled pastries that I literally can’t stop dreaming about. The food was delicious, but we felt bad that we could barely finish a fourth of it. Ceca didn’t seem to mind, she brought the leftovers back to her kitchen and we got up to explore the rest of the village.
We walked across the street to where we initially parked and saw a sign describing the history of this village:
“Villagers of Pranjani, Leusici, Kostunici and other communities across Serbia were providing shelter to downed American airmen. The families hid them from the Nazis and shared everything they had with the aviators. In return the airmen helped with the farm work and shared the duties of caring for the family and children. Mr. Manojle Jevtovic’s household was a safe house to B-24 crew led by Charles Davis (459th Bomb Group). The Jevtovic and Davis families forged a lifelong friendship during the World War II.”
We had no idea of the support that existed between Serbians and Americans, enough for this sign to be preserved in this community today. Actually, prior to this trip, I would have guessed that Serbians had a poor perception of Americans and that relations were tense. Many conversations and experiences like these are proof to the contrary. After exploring a little more, we headed back to our room to unpack & unwind.
Do you ever get that feeling — even on a good trip — like you need a vacation from vacation? We had been packing our schedules with things to see and do, and driving long hours on the road (first world problems, I know). But sometimes it feels good to just disconnect for a few days and RELAX! And that’s exactly what we did. Rajaski Konaci was the perfect place to do it too: up in the mountains, surrounded by nature, delicious food & other Serbians who also came to disconnect.
For the next three days, we didn’t get in the car once. We didn’t research sights to see nearby or the best way to get there. We didn’t Google the best Cheap Eats restaurants in the area or what their open times were. In fact, we didn’t even give a thought to what we were eating! We simply showed up to Ceca’s when we were hungry. While it was cold and rainy outside, we holed up in our room watching Zootopia and Damages. When we needed to feel more productive, we took a break from the leisure, loaded up on Ceca’s espresso shots and did some blogging near the fireplace. And of course, we drank a lot of Ceca’s homemade rakija.
Everything was so simple & easy. And when it was’t, we figured it out together. On the second day, we had a really hard time communicating with Ceca. First world problem #2, the portions that Ceca was feeding us were so large, we could not manage to have three meals a day. So, we wanted to talk to her about just having two meals a day.
After a few failed attempts at communicating this, Ceca introduced us to Danica, another woman staying in the village who had come here from Belgrade. “I came here from Belgrade because I needed to turn off the internet and disconnect,” she told us chuckling… a notion we were all too familiar with.
Danica speaks very good English and helped us quite a a bit to communicate with Ceca. From that initial conversation, we started to speak more & more about the food we must try in Serbia, the hikes we should take, and the cities we should experience. It was wonderful to organically connect with someone like that and we hope to see her again when we are in Belgrade in a few weeks.
Danica wasn’t the only friend we made in Rajaski Konaci . There were at least 10 adorable cats walking around. One of the cats, whom we’ve dubbed “Boxing Gloves” (i.e.: BoGlo for short) because of her white paws, took a liking to Caleb. She must have been in sales in her former person-life because she knew exactly when to sneak in with us for dinner. Persistently, she kept Caleb company until she got a bite of his food and some lovin’. I miss you BoGlo! Much love.
Overall, our stay at Rajski Konaci exceeded our expectations. While we initially viewed it as more of a cultural immersion trip, it ended up being mostly an opportunity to disconnect from our travel chaos, connect with some good people and gain 10 pounds from all of the delicious food we had. We would 100% stay at an Ethno Village again in the future. Next time, we will look to stay in fair weather when there are a few more locals hanging around and more outdoor activities.
This was the perfect stop. It’s great to be a tourist, but ever once in awhile you should slow down and feel what it’s like to be a local. Love it.