Month: April 2026

Rambling River Run Repeat #9

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We’ve been in Germany for a few days now and I was feeling uneasy. Something was wrong. Something was missing. Was there a Zulu horde just over the next hill, shadowing our every move or were we a modern version of the Roman legions about to be vanquished in the Teutoberg Forest. It was quiet…too quiet. Then there it was. Not welcome or reassuring in the least but disdainfully expected. The wump, wump, wump of thousands of windmills. If they could move like so many triffids Custer’s Last Stand would have been like a paper cut. But with all of the trouble in the Middle East, a ready replacement for fossil fuels has to be a good thing, right? Apart from the oil you have to put in them to keep them running. And you can’t strap one to the roof of your tractor. Enough of that.

There’s a part of Barvaria called Franconia which sounds like a cross between France and some medieval Disneyworld and while it’s people aren’t a Germanic equivalent of your average French waiter they are the opposite of those occupying the happiest place on earth. The locals say that if a Franconian is smiling it’s because they’re drunk which I guess is a good thing because if drunks are required, you want happy ones. Sober Franconians on the other hand, aren’t the type of people you invite to a party (unless they get drunk on the way). “It could be worse” is about the most enthusiastic complement you will lever out of a Franc or Frances apparently. The legendary German sense of humour must have had its origins here.

In the past, property in this part of the world was worth more if it was covered, at least to some extent, with grape vines. I guess there also had to be someone nearby with the wherewithal to turn their fruit into booze (otherwise what is the point) but that doesn’t appear to have been part of the contract. Anyway, there are grape vines up and down the Rhine and Main Rivers’ valleys with up being the operative word. Building terraces or heaven forebid, growing on flat land is for pikers. You have to assume there were property scams a-plenty judging by some of the vineyard locations. How you can successfully manage a block of land which would be more accessible if it was on the side of an Egyptian Pyramid, is beyond my comprehension.

I started writing this episode a few days ago. We’re now in Amsterdam, in the departure lounge of our boat, which for the last three weeks was the bar. We’re parked next to a large blue cruise liner which is currently home to 1000 refugees. When we got off our boat yesterday to do a canal cruise and look at tulips which are now blooming, we were told to keep our belongings close and beware of pickpockets. I draw no link between the two.

Adieu until the next adventure, or unless I think of something else to write about in the meantime.

Rambling River Run Repeat #8

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I thought of something to write so disregard #7. But before we get onto Germany, a bit more on Austria. You my dear readers, know this isn’t a travelogue where you can read about what best sights to see or hotels to stay in. I’ll leave that to travel agents. We’ll talk about other stuff here.

We’ve recently been to Salzburg (not to be confused with Strasbourg as I frequently do) and if you didn’t know, Salzburg is famous for Mozart and The Sound of Music. They also gave us yodelling, according to them – not something I would mention in polite company. Had they also gifted the world rap music, their work would have been complete.

The guides on this trip have been tremendous and our guide in Salzburg was no exception. At every stop on the walking tour, there was a Sound of Music link…and she’s a singer so it was like being guided by  a South African (for South African she is) Julie Andrews. We got the whole sing-song repertoire. But at the end she became a (metaphorical) horse. Before you affect offence by proxy, I mean, like a working horse, as soon as we turned for home the pace accelerated markedly, much to the chagrin of the athletically challenged in our group. An international incident was avoided by a tactical change-up. I’ve never understood why “change-up” means “slow-down” when it should mean “speed up”.

When it comes to attitude to table service, the Eastern Europeans love us, the Austrians are indifferent and the Germans have turned into the French. The EU has a lot to answer for in the overall scheme of things but this development is ridiculous. We’ve all encountered the French waiter of legend but how did this become a German thing? Are the French infiltrating and blaming Germany for some implied slight? Surely the French can’t blame the Germans (everyone else can – Angela Merkel specifically) for cultural assisted suicide because France was already Algeria with attitude when the migrant tsunami smashed through non-existent borders (Poland and Hungary notwithstanding). But I digress (as usual), as this has only a tenuous link to table service..

To further flog this digression, we have just been to Nuremberg and there’s a very nice statue there surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The fence had a ring built into it a few hundred years ago and if inclined you can spin the ring and it will grant you magical fertility powers. Or something. Anyway, we saw this about eight years ago and back then it was in an easily accessible square. It wasn’t in a square protected by freedom bollards, placed to prevent people of irrelevant ethnicity accidentally ploughing their vehicles into crowds of unsuspecting people, usually around Christmas time. But it is now. Something has irrevocably changed so you can understand why your average German service provider might be somewhat pissed and not in any mood to indulge tone-deaf foreigners like us when they’ve got plenty of their own to deal with.

Rambling River Run Repeat #6

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Spring in Europe – snow in Romania, 6 degrees but feels like minus 2 in Vienna and 4 degrees but feels like minus 4 in Durnstein. Where’s global warming when you could do with a bit. I’m guessing but maybe this means not as much melted snow is finding its way into the river. The last time we did this trip, in summer, the water level was too low so we had to bus half of the journey – the half we’re in now. At this time of the year the danger (to tourism) is too much water meaning the boats can’t get under the low bridges. Having successfully negotiated the stretch between Budapest and Vienna and now Vienna to Passau, we are in front.

There’s a valley between the Carpathian Mountains and the Austrian Alps which the Danube flows through and extends into the Wachau Valley west of Vienna. The Ottoman Turks regularly poured through this valley taking out Bulgaria, Romania and Hungary as they went but they never got past Vienna. The Battle of Vienna stopped them in their tracks. The largest cavalry charge in history -18000 men and horses – had the Mohammed’s searching for reverse on their carpets on September 12 1683. Then as now, the Poles were at the forefront of keeping uninvited guests out of their country thanks to their king, John III Sobieski who led the charge. The two month Siege of Vienna finished September 11 1683, considered to be the last day the Ottomans had the upper hand in Eastern Europe. Some pundits suggest this is why terrorist scum chose that date for 9/11 in 2001. The only thing that pours in the Wachau Valley now, is wine. And long may it continue.

Now the same area around Vienna has been successfully conquered by hundreds of wind turbines. If HG Wells’ War of the Worlds was written today, in Austria (or Germany or any number of other numbskull jurisdictions) it would be considered a work of non-fiction. Interestingly, immediately on crossing the border into Bratislava in Slovakia, the bird mincers ceased to be like so many dead parrots. I guess the Slovakians had enough of unaccountable, unelected bureaucrats telling them what to do from 1945 to 1989. Not any more.

Speaking of the border between Austria and Slovakia (or Czechoslovakia pre 1989), we breezed through without slowing down yesterday. In 1988 we’d have had to risk being electrocuted by an electric fence or being shot. But let’s try communism again like the Mayor of New York is laughably attempting now although we’ll have to build more electric fences to stop idealistic jackasses flooding in – not. So popular was it considered to be (1956 Hungary and 1968 Czechoslovakia notwithstanding), the commies felt compelled to build the largest housing development in Europe or the World (or something). 120,000 people live there on the outskirts of Bratislava. That’s one hell of a block party.