Wines of Yugoslavia

Last fall, I went to Yugoslavia with some other journalists, to look at the wineries and taste the wines. It was my first trip, and I came back enchanted with the beauty of the country, and impressed with the wines and with the wineries’ modern equipment. We were most hospitably received, and politics did not enter into the trip; you’d be surprised how far shoptalk, folklore, art, history, and culture in general can carry you.

I stayed on for some days by myself to see some things I’d been wanting to see all my life: the Orthodox monas teries of southern Serbia and those towns with the fabled names—Mostar, Prizren, Pristina, Cetinje, and Sarajevo —about which I had read in the books of my childhood. I may add that I knew nothing of Yugoslavia beyond nebulous childhood visions, alas, alas. Had I prepared myself somewhat for the lovely sights, I would have seen much more in what I saw; a guidebook in hand simply does not do it.

NH

About the Author

Nika Hazelton

Last fall, I went to Yugoslavia with some other journalists, to look at the wineries and taste the wines. It was my first trip, and I came back enchanted with the beauty of the country, and impressed with the wines and with the wineries’ modern equipment. We were most hospitably received, and politics did not enter into the trip; you’d be surprised how far shoptalk, folklore, art, history, and culture in general can carry you.

I stayed on for some days by myself to see some things I’d been wanting to see all my life: the Orthodox monas teries of southern Serbia and those towns with the fabled names—Mostar, Prizren, Pristina, Cetinje, and Sarajevo —about which I had read in the books of my childhood. I may add that I knew nothing of Yugoslavia beyond nebulous childhood visions, alas, alas. Had I prepared myself somewhat for the lovely sights, I would have seen much more in what I saw; a guidebook in hand simply does not do it.