Ottomans

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.

Rambling River Run Repeat #4

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When the Romanians lifted the severe communist skirt to see what colour knickers it was wearing, they weren’t at all impressed so they shot the two most responsible for such a fashion faux pas. The Bulgars, on the other hand, built a memorial to the Victims of Communism in Vidin. Much more civilised but not nearly as effective. But they had spent 500 years trying to chuck the Ottomans out of their country, only achieving it in the early 20th century so 45 years of communism was a blip. Admittedly 500 years is a bit better than the Spaniards who took 700 years but they did get it done earlier, waving goodbye to the last Abdul in 1492. So your average Ottoman isn’t coming fo earn a few bucks then go home like your average mine worker in a mining town. He’s not staying a few years, he’s staying a few centuries.

Yugoslavia thought so little of communism that they fought a war after its demise to determine who would live where, now that there was actual choice. Sadly, while the region seems to be at peace with itself now, it took a lot of tears to get here. And participants. You can see the remains of bridges in Novi Sad that were bombed by NATO because wars of independence are conducted much more efficiently if you include more participants. Trump’s being criticised for attacking Iran without congressional approval. This was Clinton’s folly, in between trips to Epstein Island.

They have a music festival in Novi Sad each year which, according to the locals is worse than having their bridges bombed. It’s called the Exit Festival and celebrates the demise of communism. The trouble is, when 200,000 people invade a town of 350,000 people, communism doesn’t look so bad. The whole place looks like a giant homeless camp (or California – take your pick). It’s a porno version of Glastonbury if the number of discarded condoms is any indication (I am reliably informed).

So far on this trip we’ve been to Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia and Hungary with a brief immigration stop in Croatia. As far as particular sightings are concerned, the current score is Christian Orthodox churches – 478, golf courses – 0. We might as well be in Afghanistan…apart from the Christian bit. And unlike a number of western democracies I could mention, there doesn’t appear to be much of Afghanistan in this part of the world.

While we’re on the subject of Christianity, we visited the Kalocsa Cathedral in Kalocsa (funnily enough), Hungary. It’s design is Italian baroque style which was introduced by the Catholic Church in the 16th century – sort of a Sydney Sweeney to counter the Protestant Reformation’s army of Karen’s. Jesus was a simple soul we are led to believe, so you have to wonder what he’d make of all of that gold and marble extravagance that characterises baroque. He was a man so we know what he’d make of Sydney Sweeney.

Rambling River Run Repeat #3

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We just racked up another first for the Child Bride – first time in Bulgaria. Let me rephrase that – first visit to Bulgaria. I’ve been here once, I think. Let me explain. Many years ago a colleague and I came here to sign a contract. I was an observer but still partook of the warm, celebratory champagne at 9.00am followed by copious bottles of Bulgarian red wine until they poured us onto our flight that afternoon. It may have been a dream but I’m pretty sure there’s a (fax) paper trail somewhere to prove it all happened.

Our first voyage on the luxurious boat we now temporarily call home was literally across the Danube River from Giurgiu in Romania to Ruse in Bulgaria. Interestingly Ruse is called “Little Vienna”. I have no idea why. Most of the buildings we saw are what they call panel blocks – typical soviet style aparment buildings made from pre-fabricated concrete slabs with the character of gravel. I guess this is what the crappiest part of Vienna looks like. But at least the buildings in Ruse are habitable. Out in the countryside it looks like the Red Army just passed through like a cyclone through Legoland. Most of the buildings don’t look like they’ve been maintained since before they were built. Then we got to Arbanasi and an area nicknamed “Beverley Hills” where the Bulgarian big-shots including the former communist president (everyone is equal but some are more equal etc etc) have holiday homes. Talk about a contrast.

Speaking of contrasts, we’ve driven through plenty of pristine agricultural land in both Romania and Bulgaria and fingers crossed so far and let’s hope it continues,  we’ve encountered zero of those horrendous windmills. You know the ones. The ones that consume more power in their construction and operation than they will ever generate. And after they die, the poor old landowner is left to deal with the carcass that’s left. Don’t get me started. Fortunately we’re not in Germany because there they’re as common as bums, littering the landscape like empty beer cans at a football stadium. I don’t know about Bulgaria but Romania has nuclear and hydro which exempt them from implementing the incredibly moronic energy policies so loved by equally moronic Australian politicians.

Despite economic difficulties, Bulgaria must be in a golden social age right now. They’ve seen off communism and prior to that had to put up with regular and varied periods of Ottoman occupation, or as present day Ottomans like to call it, “migration”. Then as now, the Ottomans thought of ingenious ways to bludge off the local population. For example, if a Bulgarian offered food to an Ottoman, the Bulgarian would be taxed for the wear and tear inflicted on the Ottoman’s teeth. God help us if Australia’s treasurer Chalmers starts to think like an Ottoman.