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A Night in Skadarlija for a Flight to Peru
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When the news about an incredibly devastating earthquake in Peru had wiped off the surface of the Earth 66,000 people (mainly in the city of Yungau) my then boss Joprdan Joco Ivanovski, the editor of the daily Vecer in Skopje, was in a hospital. His sugar was gone up high and he was kept under strict medical control. Although I have been to visit him before, for chats, clowning and support. I found it awkward to go and ask him for a consent that I go and report about the catastrophe. His deputy and my friend Milco Kocev was all set to send me, but could not do it without Joco.
-Listen, I do not want to kill you with this, but you need to add up your consent to your deputy's opinion that our newspaper owes it to the world to report about an incomparably bigger earthquake catastrophe,-I said after the first 4-5 minutes of chatting.
-No, you want to kill me,- what the hell you two are plotting, do you know how much will that trip costs? Oh, I feel the sugar rising up you assassin, get lost.
-I know,- I said, The trip is for free. Gratis, Nada. Guests of the British Overseas Airways Corporation called BOAC.
-What did you do to them, what did you promise?
-Nothing, poured my charm. Will mention them when I come in our tourist supplement. That is it.
-What do you want from me?
-To sign this request to the Working Council that these per-diems be disbursed,- and I took a piece of A4 already typed and ready for his signature.
-There is no money.
-Milco found some.
-What, 30 days, you and that idiot are totally crazy. Sister, doctor, take this murderer away from here.
Eventually he did sign for 20 or 25 per diems, something about 3000 or so US dollars and I was off. He recuperated. The move was judged politically clever. It was June and after meeting with bunches of people, I left, via Belgrade, on the long trip.
BOAC had a real gentleman called Mico Popovic as its off-line director for what was then Yugoslavia. He was a short, well groomed, very nicely mannered young man at the time. I invited him for a dinner in the famous bohemian part of Belgrade known all around as Skadarlija. We ate at "Tri Sheshira" (The Three Hats) just opposite the Yugoslav Army Service of Yugoslav National Bank. For quite long time I could not comprehend why did he press so hard his bosses in London to approve this damn expensive ticket.
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