Šid is a small town that didn’t quite win me over. It consists of slot clubs, betting shops, and plenty of cafés, but only a handful of actual restaurants. I didn’t step inside any, though—the low-hanging clouds of cigarette smoke at the door were enough to keep me happily cooking up platefuls of veggies in my apartment instead. Today I hop on the train to Belgrade, and I’ve decided that on my return to Croatia I’ll try a different border crossing—Šid and I have had our brief encounter, but once was enough.
