The Unknown Hero of Avala Mountain.

The Unknown Hero of Avala Mountain. Belgrade, Serbia.

May 2021.

“How tall is this mountain anyway?” I wondered, out loud, as our bus stop-started its way through the morning traffic. It was a warm May Monday morning and we were excited about our project to track down Serbia’s mysterious unknown hero. “Oh not all that high” answered Sladja, tapping away at her phone. “About 500 metres”.

Photo courtesy of Petkovic Boris.

It was a bit of a song and dance getting to the Serbian capital’s southeastern corner. In fact, it took over ninety minutes from the city centre and required a change of buses.

Eventually though we reached our stop where we gratefully jumped off. Getting our bearings and gathering our wits, Sladja and I crossed the busy road to join the forest trail that leads visitors up Mount Avala.

Within just a few minutes the road was far behind and we were enveloped in a pleasing blanket of hushed greenery. Built of limestone, serpentinite and magmatic rock, historians reckon Avala Mountain has been knocking around for roughly 200 million years.

The Unknown Hero of Avala Mountain.

Photo courtesy of Djidash.

Moreover, they believe the first human settlement here came around 5700 BC. Known as the Vinča culture, they most likely raided the mountain’s many mines for mercury sulfide. Basically so they could produce pigments for ceramics.

Today approximately 70% of Avala is forested and we certainly drank in the nature as we made our way up the trail, a well-maintained clearly signposted stone path.

Soon, we came upon a wooden sign written in Cyrillic. I presumed it was simply a rules and regulations lecture of some sort. Something along the lines of “don’t start fires you idiots”. However, much to my delight, Sladja translated a charming poem called Prayer of the Forest.

“I am the warmth of your hearth in cold winter nights. A friendly shade in the summer son. I’m a gable in your house, a board of your dining table. The bed you sleep on and the wood with which you build your ships”. 

Prayer of the Forest.

“Furthermore, I am the handle of your spade, the door of your barn, the material of your cribs and coffins. I am the bread of goodness and the flower of beauty. Listen to my prayer, do not destroy me”. Ah, so I actually wasn’t all that far off with my original prediction.

A celebrated Serbian by the name of Orestije Krstić wrote the poem in 1936. As one of the country’s most talented fighter pilots he went on to co-found the Yugoslav Military & Civil Aviation. In later life he also became an expert in forestry. And, it seems, a keen poet! 

Climbing higher, we kept a steady pace and before too long arrived at the first of several clearings. Which proved a rewarding opportunity to gaze out across the sweeping countryside beyond. We were making good progress, but still had a fair way to go for our date with Avala Mountain’s unknown hero.

Shortly thereafter we passed through a large barbecue and picnic area. One guy was preparing a barbecue pit for what was surely going to be a hearty feast of sausages, chopped onions, mushrooms and bread rolls. Unfortunately, he did not invite us for a complimentary takeaway.

The Unknown Hero of Avala Mountain.

On we pushed, until the curious sight of Avala TV Tower sprang suddenly into view. At almost 205 metres high (that’s including its antenna spire), I had spied the tower dozens of times during our Belgrade stays.

What’s more, the brutalist structure is even visible from Sladja’s parents’ balcony all the way out in the neighbouring town of Obrenovac! Today though we’d finally be getting to see the tower up-close. So we dragged ourselves up the last section of the climb and headed straight for the so-called Sky Bridge that takes visitors to the entrance doors at its tripod base.

Avala TV Tower opened in April 2010 following a construction project of nearly three and a half years. It replaced the original TV Tower on the same spot which collapsed in April 1999 on a day of fierce NATO bombing during The Kosovo War.

The mission had been carried out in order to take Radio Television Serbia (RTS) permanently off the air and was one of Belgrade’s last structural casualties before the end of NATO’s operations. Support for the new tower was unanimous throughout Serbia, with numerous businesses and celebrities helping to raise over a million Euros.

Avala TV Tower.

Since its opening the new TV Tower has become Avala Mountain’s primary attraction, with around 200.000 visitors a year. Indeed there is now an onsite restaurant, souvenir store, outdoor gym and art gallery attached.

Bypassing these dubious delights, we headed straight into the main lobby to take the elevator up to the 6th floor observation deck. Outside the entrance doors, we stopped to pet a friendly doggy. Avala TV Tower’s unofficial mascot, if you will.

Happily, there were clear 360-degree views that day of the surrounding countryside. Most of which stretch out across the rural villages and towns of Šumadija, a fertile region of central Serbia.

Completing a full circle of the observation deck, we picked out a singular unmissable building nestled snugly in the lush green of the mountaintop. “Hotel Avala” said Sladja with a smile. “How about we head in that direction after lunch?”

The Unknown Hero of Avala Mountain.

Hence we grabbed some grub at Mitrovićev dom (Mitrović’s Home), a traditional eatery that has an outdoor terrace. On arrival things seemed pleasingly quiet. And yet, knowing Belgrade as we do, I still felt more than a touch of trepidation about the general tone of the place and what kind of service we might experience.

Happily, it turned out to be one of our better Belgrade restaurant experiences. Our waiter had an easygoing way about him and swiftly brought our beers over while we chose some dishes.

Prior to that day we had been gorging on traditional Serbian food with numerous home-cooked meals courtesy of Sladja’s mum. Thus for our Avala lunch we opted for a change of tastes with grilled chicken breasts, French fries and an overflowing bowl of shopska salad.  The perfect fuel, we figured, for tracking down an historic hotel… and a certain unknown hero.

On our way to Hotel Avala we got sidetracked by the pretty and peaceful grounds of the Church of the Holy Despot Stefan Lazarević. Catchy eh? 

The Unknown Hero of Avala Mountain.

Constructed in 2015, this charming wooden structure is made of white pine. It stands dedicated to Stefan Lazarević, who was prince and ruler of Serbia between 1389 and 1427. He was also a celebrated diplomat, legislator and poet, in addition to being a legendary knight and military leader.

The interior is tiny, just 50 square metres. Nevertheless, it is a charming and spotless space that’s well worth popping one’s head into.

When we arrived at Hotel Avala my first thought was “Uh, has it been abandoned?”  But then I noticed a bald head poking out of the wall of the cafe terrace. Swiftly followed by the soft clink of a fork and plate.

Built in 1928, Hotel Avala had definitely seen better days, but is still a fabulous piece of surviving history. According to my notes, today’s sad-looking parking lot is where Yugoslavia’s first national skiing competition took place in 1929.

It was King Alexander I who personally commissioned the hotel’s construction. On the one hand he wanted a grand building that would bring moneyed, well-to-do folk to the mountain. Above all though, he intended the hotel to be a base for the Ministry of Forestry staff and mangers of the Department of Water Engineering.

Hotel Avala.

To achieve his goals the king hired the respected Russian architect Viktor Lukomski. Under the king’s supervision he set about crafting the place in an array of styles. For example, there are Serbian Neo-Byzantine elements evident in the various medieval columns, portals and windows.

Meanwhile, Lukomski laid out the flat roof in the modernist style. Oh, and for the various decorative flourishes the king brought in the Russian sculptor Vladimir Zagorodnjuk. It was he who created the two sphinxes that guard the building’s north entrance. 

He also sculpted the wonderful reliefs that adorn many of the columns. For the most part they have survived the ravages of time. Such as this fantastic satyr, a hedonistic nature spirit from Greek mythology.

And this elegant albeit somewhat mournful mermaid.

We loved discovering these fascinating details around the building. Although I should point out that not everybody seemed impressed.

Today the hotel serves customers strictly as a cafe and restaurant. Naturally we just had to settle in at one of the tables to soak up the atmosphere. So we ordered some coffee with a traditional Serbian dessert known as Palačinke. Basically they are Serbian crepes that come with a generous dollop of rose hip jam.

The Unknown Hero of Avala Mountain.

If our tummies weren’t full before, they certainly were now. Settling the bill, we left the hotel and… at last… got ready to meet the unknown hero of Avala Mountain.

The idea of a memorial to an unknown war hero wasn’t a new one for me. When I think of such tributes, I recall my afternoon visiting Westminster Abbey in London. But that wasn’t quite as dramatic as Belgrade’s grandiose Monument to the Unknown Hero.

Built between 1934 and 1938, this black granite monument stands in the form of a giant sarcophagus. It holds the remains of an unidentified World War I soldier who lost his life in a fierce battle with Austro-Hungarian forces on the mountain in October 1915.

Photo courtesy of Ivanbuki.

Again it was King Alexander I who drove the construction project. This time he turned to the Croatian and Yugoslav sculptor Ivan Meštrović and a team of engineers. Even The Yugoslav army and navy got involved by transporting and then helping to mount the granite blocks.

Monument to the Unknown Hero.

An astounding team effort then, but one that was significantly marred by a major controversy. In short, the king gave his workmen the green light to demolish the ruins of the 14th century Žrnov Fortress to make way for his ambitious memorial. What an incredible historic and cultural loss.

Closing in on the monument’s single public chamber, we noticed the inscription that reads: From Alexander I, King of Yugoslavia, to the Unknown Hero. It was the king himself who laid the first foundation stone, though he never saw the memorial’s completion. Three months later Alexander was assassinated in France while visiting Montpellier.

Before stepping into the chamber, we paused to admire the four solemn caryatids, two on each side of the doorway.

As symbols of grieving mothers who lost their sons to the First World War, they stand eternally outside the memorial keeping peace and sanctity.

The chamber itself is quite stark. In fact, all it contains is a Serbian flag and a headstone-shaped engraving that reads 1912-1918 (the years that encompass The Balkan Wars and World War I). The tomb of the soldier, meanwhile, lies down in the crypt at the base of the monument. It is only available for viewing by special request.

The Unknown Hero of Avala Mountain.

Back outside in the fresh air, not a soul other than ourselves in attendance, we took a few minutes to take in the mountaintop views. Behind Sladja stood Avala Tower, tall and proud.

And so we set off on the long walk back down to the city. Much to my surprise, we came across another striking memorial, beautifully positioned on a grassy platform with gorgeous valley views stretching out in the background.

This one, completed in 1965, commemorates the Russian delegation who died in a tragic plane crash the previous year. They had been travelling to Serbia from Russia to attend a 20th anniversary event marking Belgrade’s 1944 liberation during World War II. The Red Army had, after all, played their part in the city’s liberation. 

Nobody knows for certain what caused the crash. Some say a technical failure was to blame, others reckon it was down to fog. All we know is that on its approach to Belgrade the plane mysteriously veered off course before crashing into the side of Avala mountain.

The Soviet War Veterans Monument.

All 33 people on board, including a number of Russian war heroes, died instantly. Most notably among the dead was Sergey Biryuzov, a Soviet marshal and chief of staff of the 48th army who personally led his troops into battle in (ironically) Ukraine.  

We made the rest of the descent in good time. As we walked I found myself reflecting on what had been another engrossing corner of the Serbian capital. If you ever make it to Belgrade I highly recommend taking a hike up Avala Mountain. The Unknown Hero is waiting for you…

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