My journey into Belgrade was less than poetic. I was DPing a series for the Tennis Channel that dove into famous tennis academies across the world in an attempt to discover how the history and culture of that country shaped the philosophy behind the teachings there. I was genuinely excited to see how the episode we had just shot in Stockholm would contrast to this one in Serbia... they’re quite different places.

Then I found out a mentor of mine passed away 2 hours before my flight and our talent for the show became sick and wasn’t able to travel. After a brief scramble I’m in a Swedish taxi alone heading to the airport to try to save the episode… it got on top of me quick. Luckily the producer of the show was able to join me at the airport and we headed off together.

I was very much in shock and grief over the passing of my friend and unsettled about trying to make an episode without maybe the most important element to the show. I was aware of the war torn history of this country and how its communist roots might have shaped its people. It all felt like a recipe for a disaster. Then we landed.

We didn’t shoot a single frame over the next 3 days. Instead, we were welcomed to a city and a people with immense pride in where they are from. They are direct yet respectful and expect the same in return. We had dinners ordered for us when our waiter felt we might miss the most authentic Serbian experience and we finished every night by being over served every iteration of Rakija, a Serbian aperitif.

It could have been a disaster. Instead, it was a wonderful reminder that sometimes you should throw yourself fully at the mercy of a place, it may just surprise you.