Disappearing Belgrade No.8-

DzKC

Hidden away in a courtyard just off one of the main thoroughfares, DzKC was a haven for the riff-raff, artists, musicians, junkies, renegades and all round Belgrade bohemia. Broken ramshackle furniture, graffitied walls, a toilet that made strong men flinch and women walk 200 metres to another bar, great music, cheap beer. Made dive bars in the Lower East Side seem like the Ritz.

I felt at home straight away. Quite simply it was the best introduction to the creative side of Belgrade anyone could ask for. You could rub shoulders with all sorts of people, from wasted low-life to some of the finest minds in the Balkans (sometimes they were the same person). Plus you could party all night and still have enough money to crawl into a taxi home.

I loved it. It couldn’t last. It didn’t.

(and yes, that is ice on the walls)