Golubac Fortress is a historic site standing on high cliffs on the south bank of the river Danube, at the entrance to the Iron Gate gorge in northeastern Serbia. For centuries, it served to control river traffic and border approaches, but is now a tourist attraction. That latter part is where I come in.

Soon after I reached Belgrade, the Second Born mentioned that Golubac (pronounced go-loo-bats) is one of the places we’d be visiting over the weekend. I jumped with joy, only figuratively speaking. You, my kind and loyal readers, know already that I need to mind my bad back and should know better than to jump for real however happy I am.

The reason for my joy on hearing him was that I love visiting forts. Not only are they feasts to the eyes, they also tell stories, not in so many words, but through feelings its very atmosphere evokes. Imagining a long gone era, the way people lived, all of it interests me no end.

On Sunday, we set off, his friend, the son and I. It is a drive of almost two hours from Belgrade to Golubac. I took the opportunity to enjoy the countryside of Serbia, having so far only seen the city of Belgrade part of it. By the way, in between we stopped for brunch at a lovely place, which needs writing about too, but on another day because I want Golubac to be the star today and not have to share centre-stage with anyone or anything.

My first view of the fortress was through the window of the car as we were driving along the road underneath an overhanging cliff. What a pretty picture it made in the distance! In the distance, beyond the northern bank of the river, I noticed windmills with their huge vanes circling lazily on hillsides. That I learnt, was Romania, the river here being the boundary between the two countries.

My second view of the fort was from the parking area. I quickly took a shot before we walked towards the entrance to the fort area. The sky was overcast and a chilly wind was blowing. I debated whether I should put on my jacket, but then decided against it. The chill was invigorating.

At the ticket counter, we had to sign declarations stating we were going in with our eyes open to the risks involved, all said in official parlance of course. The woman then checked that we were all in trousers/pants and had shoes on before she issued us the entry tickets. Apparently skirts and dresses and sandals were a no-no, and I would soon find out just why.

Luckily, I was in comfortable pants and shoes. To think that I had just that morning toyed with the idea of wearing a dress! I would then have had to forgo the experience of climbing up the fort. The tickets we purchased were for the blue section. There were two more, red and black, said to be tougher to tackle, the black even needing guides accompanying you on the trek up.

Frankly I was not even sure I was up for the blue zone since I had no clue what it entailed, but I was willing to give it a try. With the Second Born with me, I felt more at ease. He is the most patient person you’ll find, never hurrying you (best person to take with you while shopping or bird watching!), also never discouraging you from attempting things. In this he is the opposite of his dad who’d be the first to point out what could, or would go wrong. But I digress.

Up we went the clearly recently erected metal steps, the old stone ones having eroded. And then came the dicey bit, a steep climb up the original stone steps, now broken and uneven. Like a mountain goat, I carefully put one foot after the other and went up, except that unlike the mountain goats I had helping hands to steady and support me, not to mention the steel poles on the sides with chains connecting them, to hold on to.

After that bit there were more metal steps. We were almost halfway up when I turned back to look down. My heart fluttered in trepidation. No, it was not the height. However was I going to navigate that tricky bit while going down?!!! What most people are ignorant of is that, going up is not really the problem, coming down puts more strain on your knees. In addition I had to navigate the tricky bit of stone steps.

Now that I was where I was, I’d simply go forward and worry about the descent when it was time to descend. But I realised I had new worries. The next bit was even more steeper and more challenging. This was not something I could do, so wisely, I chose to stay back and let the youngsters go ahead.

I hope you enjoy the pictures I took of the Golubac Fortress. I am not writing anything about its history because you can find it all on the net.

Since I am writing this (and posted pictures too), you all know I got through the descent safely, Phew. I must say I was relieved, and also thrilled, that I could go as far as I did. What’s more, I woke up early the next day and went for my customary morning too. Apparently I was none the worse inspite of the hard climbing I did. Hmm… I must be made of sterner stuff than I imagine, in spite of the osteoporosis, eh? 😉

©️ Shail Mohan 2025