People, like great novels, have themes.
Blog and Vlog
We said goodbye to the crew of the AmaVerde and stepped to the dock at Budapest. It was the last stop of our cruise along the “Romantic Danube.” We had traveled some 500 miles, approximately one-third of the run of this magnificent river. We had floated through beautiful swaths of Germany, Austria, Slovakia, and Hungary. But now we were down to the final 24 hours.
Some people go to Vienna for the coffee, Others for the opera. I scored COVID there.
You expect to catch viruses and diseases in drab German towns like Feuchtwangen (“Moist cheeks”), Kotzen (“Vomit”), or Elend (“Wretchedness”). But no, no, no. Not me. It was during a night in waltzing Vienna that the symptoms struck: deep cough, tight chest, snotted nose, running wife. Vicki glided in 3/4 tempo to the reception desk and fetched a test kit.
Dürnstein may not tickle the eyes as other Danube castles do, but its secrets tickle the imagination— especially for Bible Land explorers. Here, Richard the Lionheart was imprisoned on his way home from the Crusades. How he was captured and how he was released is the stuff of mystery (and music!). Consider his capture here; we’ll save his release for another post.
I met Roskovics for the first time outside my hotel in Budapest. His easel was before him, as was the picturesque Széchenyi Chain Bridge spanning the Danube (no surprise!). Buda Castle Hill was stretching beyond. Roskovics was focused on this landscape. He paid no attention to the gawkers peeking over his shoulder on the promenade. He was absorbed in his work, crayon in one hand, cigarette in the other, bag at his feet.
We walked the asphalt trail. The earth smelled wet and looked smudgy. The sky was indecisive. In one moment the rain dropped and veered, its trajectory altered by gusts of wind. A moment later, the muslin drapes of the sky were pulled back and sunlight shot through. It ricocheted off the wet sheen and illuminated the droplets clinging to leafless branches of the trees (that undoubtedly provided marvelous colors or welcome shade along the riverbank in other seasons of the year). These droplets transformed into diamonds for an instant, then the drapes curled and closed. The dance was over as suddenly as it started.
