Abandoned church, Beocin, Serbia
I know, I know. I promised to bring you detailed and in-depth stories about my discoveries in Serbia. Well, I’m sorry, I’m already resorting to pretty pictures.
I couldn’t help myself, though. On the second full day of my time in the country I caught a bus from the city of Novi Sad out to a small town called Beocin.
There’s nothing special about the place – it is, like many small towns, just a remnant of a time when not all culture was urban culture. The residents who remain are workers of the land or commuting slaves to the nearby city.
Either way, Beocin shows signs of being a slight shell of its former self. My plan was to explore Fruska Gora National Park and the monasteries there but one of the highlights was discovering the ruins of this old church.
It was not a planned sight and there was no sign out front telling me what it was. A community that cannot maintain its landmarks cannot justify an explanation.
But, in that mystery, I found an element of exploration and intrigue. It reminded me of my recent adventure into Nara Dreamland.
There was no fence to climb over – in fact, the driveway seemed eerily inviting. So I gave myself permission to walk inside and capture the moment.
No facade existed and the building was open to the elements and observers. But, inside, there was a sense of isolation.
A barrier was created as I stepped over the threshold and I was alone in the structure with no concern for what was back beyond it.
It must have once been a grand building. I actually wonder now, looking back on it, whether it really was a church.
It was certainly something of religious significance but it’s not of the design of the traditional Orthodox structures of Serbia.
Maybe it was more of a community place of gathering, perhaps a residence for the pious, or perhaps just architecturally-inspired by the divine.
It didn’t really matter to me and I, in some way, like that I didn’t know. In my mind’s eye I created a scene that fitted my interpretation.
Like a telepath, I used my imagination to bring in the missing parts of the building – I had them flying through the air and reattaching to the foundations.
People appeared in my vision, walking through the inception-ed front door and meeting others already there.
The buzz of the insects was replaced with chatter of people who existed before disrepair was the best option. The sun shone through the stained glass windows and lit up their lives.
Let me know what you can see. Here are some photos of the scene, taken in just two dimensions. Think with more, though. Not just three – maybe four.
What once was in this shell of the Serbian town of Beocin?