Bratislava: A Castle, a Gate, and Weird Stone Animals… The Great River Series: Danube # 5

December 6, 2024December 7, 2024 / Curt Mekemson / 23 Comments

The Bratislava Castle, overlooking Bratislava, has been a prominent landmark of the city since the 9th Century AD. Long before that, however, the hill was occupied by people stretching as far back as the Stone and Bronze Age. It marked a key crossroad location of the ancient world.

When we wrapped up our visit to Vienna, it was time to begin our journey down the Danube. Our transportation was waiting for us, the brand new riverboat, Amadeus. The boat looked great, but we had to walk through the mud left behind from the previous week’s flood to get to it. Our first destination was Bratislava, the Capital of the Slovak Republic, a mere 35 miles down the river.

Sunset on the Danube River near the city of Bratislava

Here’s the Amadeus docked in Bratislava. We had a rear cabin on the opposite side of the boat. Large picture windows that could be opened or closed at the push of a button, provided great views of the river, passing towns, and scenery along the way. The round building on top of bridge is known as the UFO restaurant. You can see why.

While time didn’t allow us to visit the castle, its prominent location provided ample opportunity to view it from both the city and the river.

Bratislava Castle as seen from the Danube River.

Michael’s Gate is another prominent city landmark. It dates back to medieval times and is one of the oldest buildings in the city.

Its copper green roof adds to its elegance.

The Archangel St. Michael slays a dragon on top of the tower. It’s hard to visit a medieval town without finding at least one depiction of a dragon slaying event. Saving virgins, children, and even sheep were some of the reasons. St. Michael, according to Revelations, even fought with the Devil, who had apparently taken the shape of a dragon. Whether they existed was apparently not an issue. While dangerous, it was a great way to earn Sainthood— much better than being tortured and having your head chopped off. And besides, how dangerous can a fantasy beast be?

Another example was found in the Primatial Palace in Bratislava. Here, St. George slays a three headed dragon. He came on a town where people were being chosen by lot, tied up, and sacrificed to the dragon. The latest was the king’s daughter. So what’s a guy to do? George rode off to do battle. The story is well known but the Bratislava dragon had a couple of extra heads.

Here is a closeup of the ferocious beast in its role as a fountain. The tip of St. George’s spear can be seen at the top. The dragon was one of many interesting/weird stone creatures Peggy and I found in the city.

Worn by time, this dragon displays its clawed feet and wings.

Stone carved alligator, crocodile, or dragon?

A long eared something. Probably a rabbit given its ears and hind feet. The wire is to prevent unwanted visits from birds.

And finally a sleeping dog. I’m assuming these carvings are from medieval times given the wear on them. They represent both fantasy beasts like the dragon and bat as well as common animals of the time.

Plus a horned fellow with pointed ears and a face to scare even the stout hearted. I’m thinking either the devil or a demon.

This coat of arms featured rearing horses with a wild-looking tails.

This coat of arms also featured interesting animals: Lions with two tails and their tongues sticking out. Note the fish as well.

As do demons. That’s it for today. Next post: More on Bratislava including the manhole man…

Back to the Rabbit, er Hare: It’s a Wrap on Vienna… The Great River Series— Danube #4

December 2, 2024December 3, 2024 / Curt Mekemson / 34 Comments

I ended my last post on Vienna by jumping down a rabbit hole to learn more about this fantastic beast that hangs out on top of the Bitzinger Sausage Stand with his bottle of champaign. I’m not talking about an *Alice in Wonderland* hole; I’m talking about its modern equivalent: the internet. I discovered he is modeled after one of the world’s most famous hares. And no, it isn’t Bugs Bunny. Clue: Art. Raise your hand if you know. And it’s okay to brag in your comment.

“Waiter, waiter!” Old Tom called. “There’s a hare in my soup.” Neither is it from one of the cards I create.

It’s Albrecht Dürer’s 1505 water color of a young hare that is located at the nearby Albertina Museum. As for the champaign, think of it as product placement. My guess is that the French Moet and Chandon Champaign giant would pay a generous bucket of euros for the exposure. First, there are the thousands of tourists and locals who pass by daily. Even more impressive are the millions of people who probably see it in travel photos people take home. Who can resist a bunny? It’s marketing at its best. BTW, Moet puts out 28,000,000 bottles of champaign per year. You can buy a bottle for $51, or, if you prefer, $6,161.

While we are on art, our guide for the day told us that locals call this the ‘Grapefruit Building.’ I wonder why? Artists call it the Secession Building. It was built in 1898 to represent a group of artists who broke away from Vienna’s established art institution to participate in a trend of modern art that was sweeping Europe at the time: Art Nouveau. The statement below translates to “To every age it’s art, to every art it’s freedom.”

Turning to a little ‘Art Nouveau’ (or Cubism) on my own, I thought this building’s refection might qualify. There was a McD’s just below. It would have made an interesting addition.

Peggy is a great fan of architecture. Vienna is full of classy buildings like this. I recall the guide told us that Beethoven lived here as the bus zipped by. It wouldn’t be surprising since he lived in more than 60 locations in Vienna during his 35 year stay in the city. Note the green building on the far end.

Several buildings in Vienna had striking green tops. This one belonged to the Generali Insurance Company. I think the globe was meant to imply that the company is worldwide. Apparently it required at least two of Atlas to hold it up. Which brings me to Zeus and Minerva in Albertina Square.

A man, a merman and some other creature share the heavy responsibility of holding up the statue of Zeus and Minerva. Minerva is Zeus’s wife (and sister). She had the difficult task of taming Zeus’s wandering ways.

I felt sorry for the squished merman. But check out the muscles. Even Arnold Schwarzenegger might be jealous.

A much more solemn memorial against war and fascism is also located on Albertina Square. This is one of several statues. After the annexation of Austria to the German Reich on March 12, 1938, Jews were forced to clean the streets of pro-Austrian and anti-Nazi slogans by working on their knees with brushes. The bronze sculpture recalls this humiliation that preceded the merciless persecution and murder of some 65,000 Jewish citizens in Austria during WW II.

We had time to walk around in the historic area on our own. Here are a few things we noted. A number of exclusive and expensive shops…

A boy squeezing the water out of a fish…

This attractive church— The Reformed City Church of Vienna.

And for those of you who enjoy finding and photographing unusual doors, we found one covered with cowhide that included a peep hole. I discovered it’s an exclusive night club open from 10 pm to 3 AM, a time when Peggy and I, with any luck at all, are sound asleep.

Stadt Park was situated just across the street from our hotel. In fact, our room looked out on it. Given that much of the park is dedicated to Vienna’s great composers, it’s a fitting place to wrap up this post. Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, and Schubert were among the luminaries of classical music that called Vienna Home.

Franz Schubert was among the composers who had statues scattered throughout the park.

This properly weird scene of a scantily clad musician riding on a scantily clad sphinx was prominently located on the front of Schubert’s statue. I’m assuming that the woman with the lyre is a Greek or Roman goddess of music, possibly Minerva, who was goddess of lots of things.

And last, but not least, Johann Strauss. We read that his statue is the most photographed statue in Vienna. Unfortunately most of it was covered in scaffolding as he got a makeover. We were lucky to capture this photo of him (through the boards) playing his violin. And that’s a wrap for Vienna.

Next up, we hop on our riverboat and sail down the Danube to Bratislava, the Capital of Slovakia. This is one of Bratislava’s prominent landmarks, Michael’s Gate.

“Sisi, Sisi, Let Down Your Hair:” Apologies to Rapunzel—The Hofburg Palace…Danube #3

November 25, 2024November 24, 2024 / Curt Mekemson / 28 Comments

A German Duchess, Elisabeth (Sisi) Amalie Eugenie became the Empress of Austria at 16 in 1854 when she married the Habsburg Emperor Franz Joseph. He was supposed to marry her older sister. While Sisi loved Franz, she never did adjust to the limits placed on her as an empress. But, boy, could she grow hair! She’s a legend in Austria. (Painting in the Sisi Museum.)

Sisi was considered one of the great beauties of Europe and thought of her hair as her greatest asset. It actually reached all the way to her feet when let down. Its care and maintenance required three hours per day. Sisi spent the time studying Greek and Hungarian, reading and writing. Every three weeks she had her hair washed with raw eggs and brandy. The process took a whole day, including drying. (Painting in the Sisi Museum.)

The Sisi Museum is in the Hofburg Palace, the winter home of the Habsburgs. Peggy and I visited it as part of our tour of the historical center of Vienna. This was Sisi’s exercise room. She was as fanatical about exercise as she was her hair. Long workouts and multi-hour fast hikes were all part of her daily regimen. Her passion, however, was horseback riding. She was one of the premier horsewomen of her era.

Sisi loved the out-of-doors and dreamed of exploring the world. A number of paintings in her rooms reflected her desires to travel and visit exotic lands, which she wasn’t allowed to do.

Peggy was so fascinated by Sisi, she bought a biography on her. At 410 pages it was hardly light reading. Nor was it light carrying, or easy to fit in an already packed suitcase!

Peggy noted that the main reasons for Sisi’s unhappiness were the close-to-total control her mother-in-law had over her, and the fact that she was a very private person. The latter was a poor fit for being an empress of a vast empire expected to be constantly involved in public events and private meetings. She expressed her unhappiness in poetry. A particularly telling poem was included in the museum:

“I am a seagull of no land,
I call no shore my home,
I am bound to no place,
I fly from wave to wave.”

She was assassinated at age 60 by an Italian anarchist.

This bricked up wall we found as we exited the museum was not designed to keep Sisi home. It’s designed to keep visitors out of the official residence and workplace of the President of Austria, which is located on the other side.

The Hofburg Palace and its connected buildings could take several days to explore but Peggy and I only had two hours. This duplicate of the Habsburg Coat of Arms and Crown is located on top of the Palace. Angels trumpet the glories of the empire.

We liked this royal lion seated outside what’s known as the Swiss Gate of Hoffburg Palace.

He was a handsome beast that looked quite regal.

Atlas was holding up the universe on top of the 2.5 million book Austrian National Library in the Palace complex. It was punishment. Atlas was forced to carry the heavens on his shoulders by Zeus for leading the Titans in a rebellion against the Olympian gods. The gods were quite creative when dishing out sentences. Remember Sisyphus who was forced to push a heavy boulder up a mountain for his transgressions. It would then immediately roll back down for Sisyphus to push up again. Poor Prometheus, whose crime was giving humanity fire, was sentenced to having an eagle peck open his body every day and eat his liver. It conveniently grew back overnight to feed the eagle the next day.

One of the most popular places to visit at the Palace complex is the Spanish Riding School of Vienna, which features the white Lippizaner horses known for their superb training. Once bred for war, the horses now earn their living by corralling tourist dollars.

While we are on the subject of white war horses, we photographed these guys running rampant over a person near Atlas. My only question is how can you eat an ice-cream cone (or anything) while being trampled by a horse and strangling a snake? Given Peggy’s love of ice cream, she might be able to answer the question, especially if it was coated with Heath Bar bits and hot chocolate fudge.

One more horsey thought. I can’t remember what great military hero/emperor/etc. this is, but I do remember our guide told us you could tell how he died by the position of the horse’s hoof. One hoof up meant he died from injuries suffered in battle. All four hooves on the ground meant he died of natural causes. Both hooves off the ground with the horse rearing would tell us he died in battle. Other guides told us this as well. Validity? I don’t know.

We’ll close today with a visit to St. Michael’s Church which is opposite St. Michael’s Gate at the Hofburg Palace. Remember how I thought a huge painting of St. Stephan being stoned to death on the altar of St. Stephan’s Church was a bit weird. This is even stranger. This represents the bad angels being kicked out of heaven to roam as demons among mankind forever while Lucifer was sent straight to hell.

A close up. The good guys are on top armed with various weapons while the bad guys aren’t doing very well. I have to think the huge wings of archangels would get in the way during close combat.

St. Michaels is old, with a history stretching back over 8 centuries. I thought that this picture we found on the wall when we were leaving, spoke to the church’s age more than anything else we saw. The fresco is from around 1350. What’s going on is psychostasy, which was a new word for me. It means the weighing of souls. Have you been good or bad? This particular scene even comes with a rooting section, with the Devil on one side and the Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus on the other. St. Michael is doing the weighing. Apparently, Jesus is winning, even though it appears the Devil has attached a weight to his basket. Tricky fellow. Note he has a face on his belly. If that’s not duplicitous, what is?

Not sure whether we will get a post up on Friday, given that it’s Thanksgiving weekend. If not, we’ll be back on Monday with more on Vienna’s historic downtown including this large green rabbit who seems to have landed himself a bottle of expensive Moet Champaign. That’s all for now. “I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date.” The rabbit hole is waiting.

The Schönbrunn: Vienna’s Ornate Palace of the Habsburgs…The Great River Series: Danube #2

November 22, 2024November 21, 2024 / Curt Mekemson / 22 Comments

Imagine living in a place with ceilings painted like this. Baroque art doesn’t get any more baroque than it does in the Schönbrunn Palace. Angels float through the air in sky boats while humans fill in the sides with activities ranging from war to farming: It’s a world of fantasy with the barest of holds on reality.

A sky boat floats through the clouds, probably carrying Habsburg royalty along with angels. Geese fly through the air. What about the trumpets? Are they announcing Royal and Divine presence or serving as horns clearing a path? Make way!

A scary, more real ceiling painting shows soldiers lined up to fight. While one group was firing, the other was kneeling in front, reloading their muskets.

Here, a stern looking shepherd tends his flock of sheep. I’d look stern as well if a guy was about to jump out of the sky and land on top of me— or my sheep.

Ornate chandeliers matched the ornate ceilings. Check out the walls.

What does your imagination suggest here?

While the Schönbrunn Palace has some 1,441 rooms, we visited maybe 15. One of the things that caught our attention in the rooms were beautiful stoves like this one. Imagine keeping them all burning. It would have required an army of servants. Non obtrusive side doors entered the rooms from hidden servant corridors to allow servants to do their work. Numerous paintings like the one on the right were found in the rooms we saw. They ranged from everyday people doing everyday things to portraits of Habsburg rulers.

This peasant couple looks a little fuzzy, but hey, they were dancing fast and having fun. A guy on the right toasts them. And does the half moon on the building behind them show an outhouse? Probably not. More likely, it was a sign for the tavern where the revelers were getting their liquid refreshments.

No fuzziness here. Royalty required more attention in their paintings. They wore clothes, jewels and symbols of power that needed to be shown off— along with bosoms. This is Maria Theresa, who ruled the Habsburg Empire for forty years (1740-1780), and managed to have 16 children along the way, most of whom were married off to cement political alliances throughout Europe. One was Marie Antoinette of France, known for her profligate spending and supposedly saying, “Let them eat cake,” when the poor were rioting in the streets of Paris from starvation. Not a very thoughtful statement, considering. She lost her head over it.

While there was much of interest inside the Palace, Peggy and I actually spent an equal amount of time wandering around outside on our own. The Schönbrunn Palace is more popularly known as the Summer Palace. The Habsburgs like to spend their summers here. This is a section of the front. I provided a complete view at the end of my last post.

This map provides a view of the Castle and the grounds that featured beautiful gardens and interesting sculptures. We hiked from the Palace up to the ‘Gloriette’ at the top of the map on top of a steep hill. Note the large zoo on the right. Started in 1752, it is the world’s oldest zoo still in operation.

While we were at the end of flower season for Vienna, the gardens were still impressive. This provides a back view of the Summer Palace.

The walkways along the edge of the gardens were filled with 32 life-plus size mythical deities and historical figures. This is Perseus, who the popular Percy Jackson books and movies were based on. Here, he borrowed Hermes’ winged hat and shoes and flew off to Medusa whose look could turn you to stone. Perseus is carefully looking the other way. Judging from his present status, however, he may have been little late.

Our goal was to visit Neptune’s statue and the Gloriette above it.

Ride ‘em Cowboy. Neptune’s home above a small lake included a number of other mythological creatures besides the trident carrying god of the ocean. What you have here is a merman (part man, part fish) going for a joy-ride on a hippocampus (part horse, part fish).

And here’s Neptune. Not sure whether the woman is a mermaid but I don’t think I have ever seen a picture of a mermaid wearing a dress. It appears she has his attention.

Neptune’s statue provided great views of the Summer Palace.

The Palace from the perspective of a Hippocampus.

Remember how I said St. Stephan’s Cathedral dominates the skyline above Vienna. We took this photo above the Neptune statue on our way up to the Glorietta. The church is on the right. Its only competition was a crane.

And finally, the Gloriette. A gloriette is defined as “a building in a garden erected on a site that is elevated with respect to the surroundings.” This one was built as a ‘Temple of Glory’ in 1775 and served a a great viewpoint and ballroom. It was Vienna, after all, where umpteen top Viennese composers were busy writing waltzes and other dance music.

A closer view. The glassed in middle section served as the ballroom.

This mallard happily made use of the pond in front of the Gloriette.

We’ll wrap up today’s visit to the Summer Palace with a side view of the Gloriette. Next we will return to the historic downtown of Vienna and visit the Winter Palace as well as other sites.

Vienna and a Strikingly Beautiful/Strange Cathedral… Great Rivers Series: Danube #1

November 18, 2024 / Curt Mekemson / 21 Comments

I’ve put on some mood music for today’s post: *The Beautiful Blue Danube* by Johann Strauss. Appropriately, it’s being played by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. This is the river and its beauty. Its blue green tint is caused by the time of day and clouds. Like all rivers, it has a variety of ever changing moods.

We leave the Colorado River as it flows through the Grand Canyon today and travel 6000 miles to the second river in our Great River Series, Europe’s Danube River. Peggy and I, along with her brother John and his wife Frances, cruised down the river from Vienna to the Black Sea for nine days in late September/early October this year while adding another 7 days with a pre-tour of Vienna in the beginning and a post-tour of Transylvania at the end.

Polar opposites come to mind when comparing the two experiences. The Colorado combined the world class natural beauty of the Grand Canyon with the high adventure experience of floating through roaring rapids in small rafts. Accommodations are best described as roughing it. We slept on the ground in our two person tent, prepared our own food, and took care of bathroom chores on the groover— which was hopefully hidden from public view by bushes and rocks. Whatever bathing took place was in the ice cold river or or side streams with our clothes on— might as well wash both at once, right? Side trips normally involved climbing up the steep, possibly dangerous sides of the Grand Canyon to enjoy the beauty or leap 10 to 20 feet off cliffs into small, hopefully deep, pools of water. As for weather, think up close and personal.

The Danube has a beauty of its own but lacks the incredible scenery of the Grand Canyon. Our ‘raft’ was a brand new river boat holding around 100 people, where we ate four course meals served to us by friendly, attentive staff. (Peggy had won them over on the first day. When we entered the dining room we’d hear, “Hi Peggy,” coming from all sides.) We slept on a king-sized bed, had large windows looking out on the river, enjoyed a hot shower every night, and had a toilet that, um, actually looked and behaved like a toilet. Our side trips were usually into major Eastern European cities known for their culture and stunning architecture. It wasn’t quite ‘roughing it.’

The primary difference, however, was on focus. On the Colorado, it was the river, the surrounding natural beauty, and the adventure. On the Danube, it was on history and the cities that border the river. The Danube had once served as the boundary for Rome. In the centuries since the region, known as the Balkans, had seen continuing invasions including the Mongols out of Asia and the Ottoman Turks from Turkey.

World War I started in Bosnia when Archduke Franz Ferdinand of the Austro-Hungarian Empire was assassinated by a Serbian nationalist. World War II ended with Russian tanks and troops rolling across the area and establishing the Communist Eastern Bloc nations. Ethnic rivalry, seen most recently in the bloody Kosovo conflict, has often been intense. The word Balkanization, which refers to a country or region breaking up into smaller, frequently hostile units as the result of ethnic, religious, or political differences, is actually based on what happened in the region.

We followed the Danube River traveling for about 1200 (1930 km) of its 1700 miles (2,730 km) in a southeast direction starting in Vienna and ending at the Black Sea. I’ll start this series in the classic city of Vienna. On today’s post, I am going to feature St. Stephan’s Cathedral which dominates Vienna’s skyline and is remarkably beautiful. And strange, in a medieval sort of way.

St. Stephan’s Church with its striking roof and its 446 feet (136 meters) tall south tower reaching for the sky. The roof is covered with some 230,000 glazed tiles. Note the birds flying between the tower and the roof. They had been disturbed by the ringing of the noon bell. It is said that Beethoven first realized how totally deaf he was when he saw the birds fly out of St. Stephan’s bell tower but couldn’t hear the bell ringing.

A front view of St.Stephan’s. The main entrance to the church is just below the overhang. It’s know as the Giant’s Door. The story behind the name is that the thighbone of a mammoth was found in 1443 while workers were digging the foundation for the North Tower and hung it over the door, where it apparently resided for decades. Did they see it as a unique decoration? Or maybe they thought of it as a message from God…

A view of the North Tower where the mastodon bone was found. Originally the tower was supposed to reach the height of the South Tower but the funding came to an end. It does, however house the Pummerin, or, as it is known locally, the Boomer, a 44,380 pound (20,130 kilogram) bell, which is the second largest swinging bell in Europe. The two eagles on the roof are the symbols of Austria and Vienna. Note the monument on the lower left…

The Capistran Chancel was once the main pulpit in St. Stephan’s. It’s named after St. John of Capistrano, a Franciscan, who is said to have preached a Holy Crusade from it against the Muslim Turks in the 1450s. It shows St. Francis tramping on a defeated Turk. From what I’ve read about St. Francis, that’s fake news. St. Francis was a man of peace who risked his life to establish peace between the Christians and Turks.

Also, I wouldn’t be surprised if you are thinking swallows when you hear Capistrano. And you’d be right. The Franciscans also named their early mission south of LA, California after the Saint, San Juan Capistrano. And that’s where the swallows return to each year. There is even a song about it. One final note: The door to the church’s catacombs is next to the monument. There are the skeletal remains of over 11,000 people in the catacombs. I wonder if the mammoth’s bone is there as well? Why not.

Most people think of beauty and vast size when they visit Europe’s great cathedrals. And yes, there is that. After checking out the beauty, however, I like to focus in on the details. I found this stone carving on the side of the church. Is it a bird; is it a plane (as they said about Superman)? No! It’s St. Francis, appearing as a bird carrying a tree. It’s much more like the usual portrayal of a good saint than his image of stomping Turks. He loved trees and was said to talk to animals. If you see an image of a saint from medieval times with animals, birds or trees, you can almost bet it will be St. Francis.

This is a photo of the inside of the Cathedral. It’s busy. I meant it to be. The number of statues and paintings of saints and important church personages was mind blowing. This is looking toward the high alter where a painting of St. Stephan is featured.

He’s being stoned. It would be hard to find a painting of the saint when he isn’t. Even Rembrandt painted one. Here’s the thing. Most people were illiterate in the Middle Ages and the church fathers wanted their parishioners to know their saints and understand the messages they carried. Like St. Francis and nature. And St. Stephan and stoning. A bit gruesome perhaps, but most martyred Christian saints are tied to their martyrdom.

There are several at St. Stephan’s including St. Sebastian with arrows sticking out, St. Barbara holding a castle tower and St. Catherine of Alexandria holding a spiked wheel. Their stories are all similar. Deep faith brings them into conflict with non-Christian authorities. They are tortured and God miraculously intervenes to save them. Finally, they are killed. Thus you have faith, suffering because of faith, the power of God to miraculously intervene, and ultimately their willingness to die because of their faith. I assume they are all pulled into heaven where they live happily ever after. A story with a happy ending…

The woman standing behind at least 10 other beings, including the weird angels/people peeking out from the clouds, is St. Barbara. Her daddy kept her hidden away in a castle until he discovered she had converted to Christianity. Then he took her to the local pagan priest who submitted her to various tortures, from which she would miraculously be cured by God each night. Finally out of frustration, Daddy chopped her head off. On the way home he was struck by lightning and burned to a crisp. There’s a message here. Anyway, the castle represents where she was held, the sword with which she died and the crown her martyrdom. BTW, because of the lightning, St. Barbara became the patron saint of artillerymen and miners— things that go boom.

I, for one, if I ever have need for a saint, will stick with St. Francis of Assisi, the man of peace and nature who died of a natural disease. I like a guy who can talk to an almond tree and it suddenly breaks out in blooms.

Here’s another symbol, Baby Jesus and his apple. It refers to him as the New Adam who will redeem humankind. I couldn’t help thinking, “Here Mom, your really should try this apple. Snake says it’s great.”

The church’s pulpit is quite impressive. it includes realistic stone sculptures of the Four Fathers of the Catholic Church: Augustine, Jerome, Ambrose, and Gregory. The pulpit is found in the central part of the church rather than in the front. In the era before microphones, this was necessary for the priest to be heard. Note the balustrade on the right…

It was covered with frogs and lizards biting each other, which, according to our guide, was to remind the priest/bishop/cardinal mounting the stairs of his many sins. A stone dog stood guard at the top of the steps to protect the speaker while he gave his sermon. Even then, it appears that dogs were considered man’s best friend. Cats, associated with women, were considered evil. Hmmm. An impressive organ can be seen beyond the stairs.

Every cathedral we visited on our journey down the Danube had one. Looking at this one, I was reminded of the first massive organ I ever saw. I was on an Episcopal Church related trip in the early 60s and we stopped off at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. At the time, Grace was one of the most progressive churches in America. It still is. My minister, Father Baskin, grinned at me and sat down at the keyboard. The sound was incredible, echoing throughout the church. He played an old ditty that I was familiar with, “The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the worms play pinnacle on your snout.” Father Baskin was one of the best men I have ever known. He was my kind of priest.

There were many other strange sights that caught my attention as I wandered around the church, including this knight with his codpiece, meant to protect his vitals during battle. They were quite the fashion statement of the time and kept getting longer and longer. And don’t you wonder how his helmet (on the left) could ever fit over his hair.

It’s time to move on, however. (Did I just hear, past time!) Next up is Vienna’s Summer Palace.

Welcome to Dracula’s Castle in Transylvania… Happy Halloween

October 31, 2024October 30, 2024 / Curt Mekemson / 27 Comments

Peggy and I never expected to visit Dracula’s Castle in Transylvania but there it was on our Danube River trip itinerary. How could we resist? Halloween was only 2 1/2 weeks away.

There was a danger of being tied up, however.

And ghosts. This scary fellow was floating back and forth in a dark room, like a caged wild animal. Optical illusion? Perhaps…

A wild lion with vampire sharp teeth peered out from a table…

A lioness with frightening sliced eyes was hidden among scroll-like decorations.

Looking closely, other evil creatures seemingly appeared out of nowhere, like this satan goat with dead eyes and his companion, a horned dragon.

Even door knockers were threatening. “Beware!” rather than “Welcome” was the message. Monsters’ heads peered out from the medallion. Two snakes slithered out, wound around the knocker, and became a second set of massive horns on a cruel face with pursed lips.

Strange metal doors invited opening. Dare we? What dark secrets does the room hide? Eyes stared out from the top panel. Halloween scary for sure.

Peggy entered a dark room and came out screaming. Had her hair fallen out? (Our guide had hidden behind a curtain and jumped out yelling.)

And there were lots of dark, narrow, ancient stairs to climb that led to mysterious heights. Was this damsel in distress wearing a nervous smile about to become Dracula’s latest victim? (We were traveling with Peggy’s brother John and his wife Frances. This is Frances negotiating the ‘dark, narrow stairs,’ with a smile.)

Even the castle’s no-smoking sign had a bit of Halloween-type humor, which brings me to something much more scary than Bram Stoker’s Dracula, the real, historical Dracula, son of Dracul…

Stoker never visited Dracula’s Castle but he based his book partially on folk tales, legends, and the actual historical Dracula/Vlad the Impaler. Compared to him, Stoker’s Dracula was a wimp, a woozy, a rank amateur. Born in 1431, Vlad would be responsible for some 80,000 deaths throughout his 45 years of life, utilizing various means including torture— the worst of which was impaling. Not to get too graphic, but imagine sitting down on a yard long, pointed, narrow pole. Ouch. He once did in 20,000 Ottoman Turks using that method. The rest of the army turned and ran home. Even Pope Pius II was impressed. The gruesome chair and standing tomb above are other examples of torture implements he might have used. Once a delegation of diplomats visited Vlad and refused to take off their hats in respect. He had their heads cut off and their hats nailed to their heads. So, if you want scary, Vlad is your man.

These were violent times throughout Europe and Vlad was among the most violent. No wonder ghosts roam about his castle, virtual, or otherwise.

At one point, Vlad was imprisoned in this tower for a couple of years, a part of his own castle.

And now, to lighten things up, a leap forward to Halloween 2024…

If you’ve been around this blog for a while, you know Bone, Eeyore, Bonetta, and George, the African Bush Devil. Bone has been wandering the world for 47 years, ever since Tom Lovering and I found him while backpacking south of Lake Tahoe; Eeyore has been his traveling companion for 25 of those years; Bone found Bonetta in a Florida swamp and married her at Burning Man; George came home with me from Africa in 1967 and is on the front of my book about my Peace Corps experience: *The Bush Devil Ate Sam*. They dressed up for Halloween— and you— using their Burning Man costumes.

Eeyore and Bone have been wandering around North America together for 25 years. Bone gets Eeyore into trouble and Eeyore gets Bone out of trouble. Eeyore is wearing his leopard mask. Bone, BTW, is naked, which is his Burning Man costume. If Eeyore appears a bit bedraggled, it may be because he served as an elementary school mascot before joining Bone.

The gorgeous Bonetta put on her Burning Man wedding dress to appear as the Bride of Frankenstein. (Baby Bone was sleeping in his coffin and no one wanted to hear him scream if he woke up.)

George is wearing his dramatic Red Hawk mask. He was carved by a leper in Ganta, Liberia.

And finally, the Mekemson and Cox Family Pumpkins. Clay’s lurks threatening in the background. Tasha’s is a First Grade Monster with eyes peeking out on the side. Ethan’s is an AI Robot (scary as a category five hurricane). Cody’s large mouth pumpkin is throwing up his innards. Peggy’s is the Castle of Dracula, and mine is Dracula’s Teeth. (I have a dental appointment this week and all I could think of was teeth. How much scarier can it get than trip to the dentist?)

Actually, my dentist, Dr. Tim Smith, and his staff at Purcellville Dental are excellent. And have a great sense of humor! Their annual “Decorate for Halloween Contest” was underway. Each staff member creates a ‘Jack-o-lantern’ and patients are invited to vote for their favorite. This was mine.

Peggy and I, along with Clay, Tasha, Ethan and Cody and, of course, Bone, Eeyore, Bonetta and George would all like to wish you and your family a Happy and Safe Halloween filled with laughter, goodies, and slightly scary things.

The Great River Series… Introduction

October 18, 2024 / Curt Mekemson / 17 Comments

Clouds roll in threatening rain along the Danube River. Fortunately, the weather gods were kind to us. The river had flooded the week before our arrival due to heavy downpours upriver.

Today marks the beginning of our Great River series. The inspiration for it is our trip down the Danube from Vienna to the Black Sea that we just finished while traveling with Peggy’s brother John and his wife Frances.

Along the way, we traveled through Austria, Slovakia, Hungary, Croatia, Serbia, Bulgaria and Romania, all countries that I had never visited except Croatia. (Peggy had been to Austria, as well: Way back in BC…As in before Curt.) Other than the Romanian apple that got us in trouble with US Customs and a cold I picked up and undoubtedly shared along the way, our trip in a riverboat with the GoHagan travel company was quite good.

Knowledgeable (and often humorous) local guides led us on tours through cities, towns, churches, castles, and palaces while providing historical background that ranged from Mongol and Turkish invasions, to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, to the Russian Communist occupation following World War II.

We watched horses prance, people dance, and consumed at least three times as much food as we usually do. An ancient village with roots going back 5-6 thousand years and the beauty of the Carpathian Mountains of Romania/Transylvania wowed us.

Dracula/Vlad the Impaler called the Carpathians home. While we found the Impaler’s castle fascinating, I think Peggy was more excited to discover that the Cantacuzino Castle (where we stopped for lunch) serves as the site for the Nevermore Academy of the Netflix series Wednesday, a take-off on the TV series, The Addams Family, of yore. How much does she like the series? Well, she has binged on it. More than once. Her scream of delight when she saw a sign promoting the castle as the series’ location led everyone on the bus to turn and look at her. I felt like I was married to a smitten teenager.

The Cantacuzino Castle that serves as the as the location for the Nevermore Academy of the Netflix series *Wednesday* with a view of the Carpathian Mountains of Transylvania in the background. The leaves were just beginning to turn as we made our way through Romania.

The castle of Vlad the Impaler, aka Dracula, in Transylvania.

One great river doesn’t constitute a series, however. And we’ve promised a series which brings up what our criteria are for defining a great river. There are the normal factors, i.e. length and volume, but I would also add history and in beauty. The Nile is a great example for history, while the Colorado River on its run through the Grand Canyon is one for beauty. Both are mind-blowing.

There is one criterion that is strictly ours: We have to have floated on the river. For example, Peggy and I have crossed the Mississippi, Missouri, and Columbia Rivers numerous times from their headwaters to where they flow into the ocean. But our only personal experience has been to take photos and explore their history, with folks like Mark Twain and Lewis and Clark serving as our teachers. Peggy is known to stick a finger or toe in on occasion, however, “to test the water.”

In addition to the Danube, the series will include the Colorado, Amazon, Rhine, Nile, Zambezi, and England’s Trent and Mercy Canal— not a Great River perhaps, but Peggy and I had a blast navigating it in a 60’ long 10’ wide narrow boat, stopping at pubs along the way.

Our private 21 day trip through Grand Canyon National Park by raft was filled with beauty, adventure and fun.

We explored the Amazon River out of Manaus, Brazil for a week on the Amazon Clipper, a small boat that we shared with four other couples plus crew. We dined on piranhas for dinner that night, the ones we had caught in the afternoon (carefully).

Our trip up the Rhine River had it all: Charming towns, Medieval castles, towering cathedrals, bucolic countryside and history. Plus, we took our son, daughter, spouses and grandkids with us.

Horus, the Falcon God of ancient Egypt in the Valley of Kings. The Nile is lined with such treasures.

The Zambezi River of southern Africa brings its own magic ranging from water buffalo, to hippos, to crocodiles, to lions and numerous species of birds.

An underpass on England’s Trent and Mercy Canal. “Low bridge, everybody down.” —Erie Canal song

Since we have already blogged about these experiences (other than the Danube) in the past, I’ll simply do a summary post or two on each one that focuses on photos. The Nile may include more since there were several blogs that I ran out of time to do after the trip last year.

Next week, a quick look at the incredible beauty of the Colorado River through Grand Canyon National Park. After that, we will start on the Danube.

Dangerous Romanian Apple Is Caught Slipping into US without Passport… With Us. We’re Back!

October 14, 2024October 14, 2024 / Curt Mekemson / 30 Comments

This apple is a dangerous criminal, an illegal alien attempting to slip into the US from Bucharest without a passport. I am using it here to hide my identity as it is interrogated under the bright lights of the law in a US Customs Detention Center at Dulles Airport. I can still hear the questions, over and over: “Are you or are you not an apple? Did you or did you not come from a former Communist Country? Where is your passport? Is it your intention to destroy America’s apple crop and replace it with foreign apples? What about oranges, grapes, turnips, and petunias?” Petunias?

Peggy and I were innocent victims. The apple was using us for its nefarious purposes. The staff at our hotel in Bucharest had slipped apples into breakfast paper bags when Peggy and I, along with her brother John and wife Frances, checked out at 2 AM. They had included a sandwich made up a slice of cheese and a slice of ham on white bread without any condiments, plus— the piece de resistance— a two-bite muffin. I’d eaten the sandwich and muffin on our ride out to the Bucharest Henri Coandă International Airport. I was suspicious of my apple, however. It had a not-right feeling. I tossed it into a trash can. Let the Romanian authorities deal with it.

Peggy, on the other hand, had visions of eating the apple somewhere along the way on our seemingly endless journey as a defense against starvation. She slipped it into an extra bag she was carrying for gifts and the apple immediately burrowed itself into the bottom of the bag, where it hoped to be forgotten. I can’t blame it for not wanting to be eaten, but apparently it had other motives as well. I don’t know what John and Frances did with theirs. I’d watched Frances cut up lots of them on our trip down the Danube, however. As for John, it probably depended on his political assessment of the apple. Had he thought of it as liberal, or radical, he would have consumed it on the spot, down to its very seeds. Had it been Libertarian, he would have coddled it, possibly even slipping it into Texas where the laws are different (not really, when it comes to US Customs).

We had a 4 hour layover in Zurich where the apple would have been consumed except we were traveling business class and could hang out at the Swiss Air lounge where all sorts of goodies were available for eating. Likewise, we were fed two full meals on our flight from Switzerland to Virginia. The apple continued its happy and secretive existence in the bottom of the gift bag— until we were in the middle of a massive crowd of people slowly making our way toward the passport check stations. It was then that Peggy saw the sign: “All travelers entering the United States are Required to Declare meats, fruits, vegetables, plants, seeds, soil, animals, as well as plant and animal products (including soup or soup products) they may be carrying. The declaration must cover all items carried in checked baggage, carry-on luggage, or in a vehicle.” The food might contain dangerous pests. Not declaring it is a crime subject to fines up to $10,000!

It was an “Oh poop,” moment. Oh well. Having lived in California for many years, we were used to border checks for fruit. We either got rid of it before entering the state or declared it if we hadn’t. I’d stopped being overly concerned when the border checks were frequently unmanned. If we declared fruits, the guards told us to throw it into a nearby trash can, or eat it. So much for the dangerous pests.

When we reached passport control, Peggy bravely pulled the offending apple out of her bag and explained why she had forgotten it. “Here, you can have it,” Peggy offered with one of her dazzling, disarming smiles. “Or is there a place I can toss it?” The agent reacted like Peggy was offering her a dead rat with the bubonic plague. She grabbed Peggy’s passport and locked it up in a plastic box for Peggy to carry. “Follow that red line to Custom detention,” she told her. Suffering from guilt by association, I was directed to go with her.

We opened the door and a very stern looking fellow took Peggy’s passport and glared at the apple. We were told to go sit on the side with a lot of other people. We would be allowed to go when and If the agents found no more apples in our luggage, which, at the time, was going around and around on the Swiss Air’s luggage carousel. “Can I go pick up the bags and bring them back here?” Peggy asked. “No” was the terse reply. “You will not bring fruit into the country,” we were reminded again. We were very close to being criminals. Agents would go collect our luggage so we wouldn’t try to escape.

A sign declared we were to take no photos or record any conversations. I understood why. Four agents were standing in the back of the room sorting through a pile of garbage four feet high and four feet across, carefully pulling out each piece and examining it. I certainly wouldn’t want my photo taken doing that. I hoped that they were well paid. As for the no photos, I wasn’t going to take any photos of their secretive activities, but I really did want a photo of the apple.

I pulled out my MacBook Pro and opened Photo Booth. Positioning my apple where I wanted, I pushed the red cameral symbol. BEEP, BEEP, BEEP the computer went as it counted down. The wasn’t an ‘Oh poop’ moment. It was an “Oh shit” moment. I imagined guys with guns rushing over to grab me. I quickly closed my laptop and waited. Nobody seemed to have noticed. The problem was, I wasn’t happy with the photo.

Out came my laptop again, this time with the sound turned off. I positioned the apple just so (as you see it above) and snapped another photo. The only thing I could see in the photo that might be considered in the no-take area was a TV that featured Mr. Potato Head on the left and an orangish looking guy with horns on the right. Satisfied, I put the laptop away and we waited. And waited. Another family of four was in the same strait we were. The daughter had brought a closed package of beef jerky to give to her brother, which was apparently a crime even more serious than ours. Her father was roaming around like an angry bee.

A half hour passed, and then an hour, and then an hour and a half. Each time the agents brought in luggage, Peggy and the dad would jump up to see if ours was included. Nada. Once the agents brought in 20 pieces from a French airline. Who knows what that was about. Maybe the French were trying to smuggle in a hundred pounds of Foie gras. The French fellow they were holding couldn’t (or wouldn’t) identify any of the luggage. I felt for all of the passengers who were wondering where in the heck their luggage had disappeared to.

Finally, the dad went over to talk to the “Big Guy,” who stood about five feet tall, and asked if he could go out with an agent and identify his luggage. Maybe the fellow was feeling a little guilty about the dad’s long wait with children. He said yes. Peggy, who knows an opportunity when it knocks, ran over and requested the same privilege. Five minutes later Peggy and the dad showed up with the luggage that the agents hadn’t been able to find in two hours. Ten minutes later our luggage had been scanned, Peggy had her passport back, and we were free to go. It was one AM in Bucharest. We had been traveling for close to 24 hours. All’s well that ends well. We had been worried that the following photo may have shown our fate.

Peggy is threatened with having her head cut off at Vlad the Impaler/Dracula’s castle in Transylvania. Our guide, whose name was also Vlad, was wielding the ax. That’s it for the day. Next up, we will start our Great River Series, including our adventure down the Danube River.

Cape Town, Table Mountain and the Cape of Good Hope: South Africa… On Safari 25: A Wrap-up

April 1, 2024April 1, 2024 / Curt Mekemson / 22 Comments

This is a view of the Cape of Good Hope as seen from on top of Cape Point. Portugal’s Bartolomeu Dias was the first to round it in 1488. He named it the “Cape of Storms,” for good reason. Ten years later, Vasco da Gama followed the same route and then sailed up the coast of Africa, prompting King John II of Portugal to rename it the “Cape of Good Hope.” It opened a sea route to fabulous wealth of the spice trade in India and the Far East.

Today marks my 25th and final post on our African Safari. As you read this, Peggy and I are driving between Carson City, Nevada and the Central Coast of California where we will spend the next two weeks exploring Big Sur, Carmel, Monterey, Pinnacles National Park and the surrounding area. The visit will kick off our next series: A three month, thousand mile journey following the Pacific Coast through Northern California, Oregon and Washington— one of the world’s most beautiful coastlines.

But first, a wrap up on South Africa where we will visit the Cape of Good Hope, Cape Town and Table Mountain.