Growing up in England, I knew nothing of my Serbian ancestry – until a summer of exploration in Belgrade made me realise that Todorovic was more than an ‘inconvenient surname’.
Ted Todorovic-Thomas
Oddly, it took Novak Djokovic to spike my first real interest in Serbia. It was during his great 2011 season, and specifically his first Wimbledon success that grabbed the attention of my seven-year-old mind.
It would have been the first time I’d seen a Serbian person. Like any child’s mind, I instantly associated Serbia with winning as a result – a standard that I would later understand applies only to its sporting endeavours.
In 2013, as he faced Murray for the championships. I stood out like a sore thumb in classroom chatter. This was peak “Britannia”, and I was the one kid arguing with everyone and hoping for a Murray loss. Of course, Murray would go on to win, leaving a vivid memory of childhood pain.
Regardless of the actual tennis, the personal victory for myself was that Serbia had entered my life. I was still too young at the time to do anything about it, but the seed was planted.
It would take another sportsman to water the seed that Novak had planted. Despite my geographical location, I am a Newcastle United fan (that’s a whole other story). When I was a little older, a teenager, we signed the Serbian forward, Aleksandar Mitrovic.
Not only was Mitrovic Serbian, he also had the same name as my grandfather – Aleksandar. That seems little now, but to a 13-year-old looking for answers about his identity, it was an interesting coincidence.
As I attended the games, I asked my parents if they would buy me a Serbian flag. They obliged, and after the games I would wave the flag, waiting for a wave or smile from Mitrovic. He had become my favourite player and another addition to the increasing intrigue.
There would be others, like David Vujanic, aka Vuj, a British-Serbian Youtuber who I watched as a kid. I had the pleasure of meeting him once, when our WIZZ Air flight was cancelled. We had to get the painful bus to Budapest to get a flight home, as Wizz Air didn’t have a seat available for the next eight days.
By the time I was in Sixth Form (school for those aged 16-18, for those not familiar), this seed of curiosity that had been planted years earlier became an overgrown plant in my mind. I was desperately waiting to turn 18 so that I could go explore my ancestral homeland.
As my curiosity grew, my mother told me that my grandmother had visited Yugoslavia. She first visited Belgrade to meet family and friends. She later travelled across the other republics, especially fascinated by the coastline of Croatia.
Eventually, I would get the chance. I followed in my grandmother’s footsteps and visited Belgrade, becoming the first member of my immediate family to do so, in February 2022. It was cold, and obviously, during the COVID period, which would skew any experience.
My first visit felt like a teaser. I had no experience of travelling or any knowledge of the language, and I knew that to extract what I wanted, I would have to come back.
Best summer of my life
