Montreux bank holidays

New Year's day was quieter than a Sunday. It was mild and sunny with clouds until sunset, when it began to rain. In the afternoon I walked the lakeside path as far as the Chateau de Chillon with my camera, and got a decent close up photo of a bird I couldn't identify swimming off-shore. A flock of a hundred or so Scaup were swimming together nearby. This is an aquatic bird I hadn't come across until I identified a few of them among the Coots and Mallards on the rio Aguas in Mojacar back in November. I wonder if the birds live here or are spending the winter here, or just passing through?

In the evening I watched the New Year's Day concert from Vienna, always a favourite, and even more so now we've sailed on the not so blue Danube, seen Vienna, and the Vienna Woods slipping past. It prompted me to take another look at my on-line album of cruise photos, and realise just how little of Vienna we'd seen in our packed day's visit. Hopefuly, there'll be another time.

Then I watched first episode of McMafia inspired by a novel of Misha Glenny. It's a dramatic exposée of the power struggle between different Russian criminal clans. and how this impacts upon the personal life of a second generation British banker of Russian parentage. It's a stylish portrayal of the lifestyle of the super-rich after the manner of the film of Le Carre's 'The Night Manager'. It's complex and a little slow moving, which makes me wonder if it's making sense to me. Early days, however.

Today was another 'quiet as a Sunday' sort of day, being a second Swiss public holiday in a row. It walked into town to see if anything was open, and found several restaurants, cafés and convenience stores were open, not that I needed anything, as I'd stocked up before the weekend. I walked up into the old time, and discovered several old streets and alleys I hadn't found before. I walked back past the ancient Parish Church of St Vincent Veytaux, and took another photo of it with the vineyard in the foreground, now in winter wear, denuded of leaves. The church was open, and the sanctuary was host to an unusual nativity scene.

The figures were cardboard cut-outs, which had been minimally decorated by a local artist who had also written an interpretation of the intended symbolism of the scene from his viewpoint which was displayed alongside the nativity scene in the spacious sanctuary of the church. In common with many other reformed mediaeval church buildings there's almost no furnishing in the chancel and sanctuary, just a simple Communion Table at the entrance. The simplicity of the space is enhanced by stained glass window light. It's a delightful building, with a timeless feel to it, and it's such a contrast to the glitzy cosmopolitan streets down below on the lakeside.

Later, I watched episode two of McMafia. I'm still not sure I've got a grip on the plot-lines, or if I'll have the patience to watch the third episode on Sunday next.

Enjoying the results

A long and refreshing night's sleep, and at last I seem to be getting over the cumulative tiredness of a series of night's sleep on the cruise, broken by curiosity more than anything else. It was a lovely sunny day, the garden looks gorgeous, so Clare spent as much time as she could sitting outside enjoying her own special work of art.

Apart from writing a sermon and updating my diary with duties assigned to me over coming months, I edited and uploaded another two days worth of photos. 

Day three pictures can be found here. 

Day four pictures are here. 

I'm finding a lot of pleasure just reviewing our week's travels and looking more closely at so many things noticed and captured in the moment, on the move. I'm pleased with my newly acquired Sony HX300 camera too. The long reach of its zoom, and a proper viewfinder allow me to satisfy my visual curiosity and produce the kind of results I want. No wonderful wildlife shots so far however, many birds glimpsed along the Danube were too far away to capture satisfactorily from a moving ship. But there will opportunities soon, no doubt.

Tonight a new eight part crime movie series on BBC Four in French called 'La disparucion'. Its filmic style differs from the Nordic Noir genre. Different too from the powerful film series 'Engrenages', in being set in Lyon for a change, not Paris. I found the French clear and easy enough to follow, noting the discrepancies between what was said and how it was translated into subtitles. The Parisian argot of the other series is much harder to decode. This movie is also in full colour, not in that stylish mix of black and white, and occasional tinted scenes that gives Engrenages its gritty style and character. Very promising so far.

 

Catching up time

After spending Wednesday morning slowly waking up and adjusting to being back home, getting the week's food shopping done, I retrieved the car from the Vicarage front yard, where it was lodged while were away to make space in the ever crowded street, then took Ashley our radio suppliers in Chepstow. In the evening I started editing and uploading photos from the first day of our cruise. There's a link to them here.

Thursday morning, I joined the congregation at St John's Canton for the Corpus Christi Eucharist, before going into work, and starting the job of sorting out radio handset equipment returned to CBS after the great frequency switchover two weeks ago. It's a matter of sorting and boxing for storage six different components from ten dozen sets, already at end of their expected life before the changeover. Accessories can be recycled but not the radios themselves, unless someone needs dummy handsets to  use in a film production. It'll take a while before the office is rid of boxes and tidy again. Then we did made another trip to Chepstow to finish what we'd started yesterday. Once again in the evening, more editing and uploading the photos of the second day of our cruise. You'll find Day 2 here.

Today, more time spent in the office, continuing the slow tasking of dismantling kit, disentangling cables of various sorts collected in haste and simply needing patience to sort out. It's a humdrum sort of task, but a calming one which I welcome after so much fresh input and stimulus recently. 

No photo work tonight, as Clare had tickets for a concert at the new Welsh Language Centre in the Old Library, the building where CBS was based last year. Veteran singer song writers Heather Jones and Meic Stefens were performing their own music and singing some songs together, as they had originally done forty years ago in the group 'Bara Menin'. 

Both are in their seventies now, voices as strong as ever, and still full of passion and enthusiasm for their bardic role, as leaders of Welsh language popular song, it's a better way to describe them than 'iconic'. There were well over a hundred people there, of all generations, singing along affectionately with familiar ballads. Sadly I know none of the lyrics and just a few of the tunes, but I greatly appreciated their musicianship.

 

Turbulent homecoming

As our flight was later in the afternoon, we had a free morning free to look at Budapest and for us that meant going on foot, first to visit the amazing covered market, three times the size of Cardiff market, with and upper floor almost entirely dedicated to embroidered garments, tablecloths, and a variety of other hand-crafted souvenir goods including decorated eggs and Russian dolls. It was an amazing red and yellow brick nineteenth century building, materials and colouring traditionally used in municipal properties in the city.

Then we walked to the Dohanyi Street Synagogue, in what was the Jewish Quarter, said to be the second largest in the world. Interestingly enough, although not a municipal building it used the same building materials. Its design is unique and unequivocally distinct because of its use of the Star of David motif. It was designed by the city's best Catholic architect, who had never done a synagogue before. He visited Spain to get ideas, and drew inspiration from Mozarabic architecture, so it has a passing resemblance to a mosque. Hungarian Judaic tradition is also sui generis, belonging neither to Orthodox nor Reform nor Liberal stream. The building reinforces this originality. 

There was not enough time for the visits and guided tours on offer, but I was happy to walk around and take some pictures from outside, as its substantial presence in this city which also has a Calvinistic Reformed Church presence and churches since the 17th century. This community was also persecuted under the militantly Catholic Hapsburg dynasty, though accepted fully in a liberal ecumenical secular era.

After a final lunch on board we drove to the airport under darkened skies, punctured by lightening flashes. While we were waiting to board the heavens opened. Flights were for a while prevented from departing or arriving, so ours was initially delayed half an hour. As we went to board we got wind of a gate change, but the information displayed when the flight was called showed no status change. We walked across the 'tarmac' to the gate area for budget flights housed in a large shed. 

The walkway is sheltered but caged in with wire on one side, so rain blew in. Some of our party were walking back saying "Gate B15", so we all turned around half way and returned. A cursory glance across the loading area suggested the previous flight had not yet left. Two earlier Ryanair flights were loading and about to go. We never got to find out whether Gate B15 was like, as when we reached the place in the main terminal building, it was deserted, and there was no indication the flight had been re-located here. The display panels were still at status quo. Then an announcement over the tannoy stated it was Gate B2, so the crowd turned around and headed back. At least by this time the previous Gate B2 flight was getting ready to leave, and another Ryanair flight was landing, having been diverted until the storm abated, I suspect.

While we were passing through the terminal waiting area for the second time, I picked up strains of the last 'Sturm und Drang' movement of Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata' being played on an old piano. These community artefacts are turning up in the most surprising places. The last time I saw one played was outside King's College in Cambridge, last summer. The musician was a young woman. She was reading the music from a smartphone, being held by a friend who was scrolling the page display for her. It was amazing, playful and appropriate for this turbulent moment. Some travellers smiled. Others still worse that 'confused.com' face, as I overheard another passenger remark.

This time, we made it into the departure shed through an ankle deep lake of water. The torrential rain, only just abating had overwhelmed the drains, and many boarded with wet feet, no amused. People had to moan at Ryanair, as they often do, but this was a straightforward Budapest airport management team issue, unprepared for contingency, unable to update the flight information panels or make announcements fast enough to meet the need. One simple holding announcement stating that all was on hold as scheduling was being disrupted by the weather, would have covered this at the outset. Ah well, next time. We have to get used to more 'extreme weather events' in the mildest of climates, and beef up contingency plans right across society. Or make things worse, most costly to fix.

Once on board the flight went smoothly, and arrived just an hour late. We seemed to be surrounded by travellers subdued, still recovering from a long weekend of boozy partying, for which Budapest is now renowned. I wonder if they'll all be in work tomorrow? I know I will. 

By ten thirty were were back home, looking at the thankfully slim pile of mail. When I switched on my phone I had a WhatsApp message from Hamid, stating that his asylum appeal was rejected as it had been submitted two weeks late, and his solicitor was no longer answering his calls. He had also received notice to quit his accommodation and withdrawal of his subsistence allowance from the end of this month. Will he be detained and deported before this date, or just left homeless and destitute, because of more administrative chaos in an administration system not fit for purpose for serving displaced people in our crisis ridden times.

After the last few days of revisiting Nazi era history history, travelling the Danube, it's tempting to worry that history is repeating itself. Austria has just elected a left leaning Green party president in a close run-off with a far right candidate. Just. What if it had gone the other way?

      

On the Danube - Budapest conclusion

Sunlight streamed into the cabin as I woke up. When I looked out of the window, the sun was just fully above the far horizon, immediately in from of that was the top wall of the last of eight locks ascended and descended during our 1,100 kilometre voyage. Immediately the descent began as the lock emptied, and at five thirty in the morning, we set out on the last stretch of the Danube past Esztragom to Budapest for our final day. After much much dozing and eventual breakfast, relaxed and enjoyed the river, looking forward to a lunchtime arrival.

After we'd eaten we were taken on a guided coach tour of the city. There is such a lot to see and for the guide to tell about. It was all a bit overwhelming. Photographing the sights from a passing bus in narrow streets with a fair about of bright sunlight creating reflections on the windows was very frustrating. There were no opportunities to stop, get out and look, but flagged up one thing I want to see tomorrow - the second largest synagogue in the world, in Mozarabic style architecture for some strange reason. It contains a museum and holocaust memorial as well.

The coach tour ended up on the older Buda side of the Danube, where the royal palace is located and a substantial collection of old town buildings from the fourteenth to twentieth century. It is now designated as a World Heritage site, and at any given moment in time deluged with visitors like us, wanting to take advantage of the panoramic view of Pest below, on the other side of the Danube.

We only had an hour after the coach tour to walk the streets and get some idea of what the old town contained. It was just enough to walk the length of the place, drink a rather nice Hungarian beer, reminiscent of amber ale, and return to the coach stop. I missed the royal palaces altogether, but have had enough of grandeur on the trip so far to last me a long while.

After supper, we were entertained on board by performance from a gipsy trio and four dancers. It was an exuberant affair, with much percussive thigh and boot slapping to the music, and high jumps and loud shouts. There was a stick dance, and a somebody in the audience 'volunteered' me to take part. I was handed a metre long wooden rod, and caught a splinter in my finger, which started to bleed as we started the stick dancing routine. I grabbed a paper serviette from the table to suppress the bleeding, and completed my embarrassing moment with as much aplomb as I could muster.

A lady sitting close to us discreetly handed me a tiny plaster for which I was most grateful. Later I I had to pull out a splinter out of the wound, but no great damage was done. It could have been worse, but I couldn't help thinking that it was a bit careless of the performer to have engaged a member of the audience without at least a little equipment safety check. This crossed my mind as I have been so aware of just how strict and consistent every single safety check make by crew and staff has been on this cruise. Nothing is left to chance. But outside performers are another matter.

Ah well, home tomorrow. We a late afternoon flight I have a morning to visit the synagogue. If I can find it on foot.

  

  

On the Danube - Vienna

We arrived at Handelskai in Vienna about half past seven, later than I'd expected, so there was no question getting away by taxi to the eight o'clock at Christchurch Anglican church the other side of the city centre. Disappointing, but unavoidable. After breakfast we were collected by coach and driven first around the central ring road, built in the 19th century under Emperor Franz-Josef, along the route of the mediaeval walls, which were demolished to make way for the road and for grand houses alongside. We were dropped off near the remarkable renaissance era Rathaus, and given a guided tour of the area in which the main public buildings, parks, gardens and old town streets and churches are situated.

In the main commercial thoroughfare, Graben, is a towering ornate gilded baroque sculpture. It represents the Holy Trinity. A nice coincidence to be confronted with this on Trinity Sunday. The tour ended outside St Stephen's Cathedral in the heart of the old town centre, a huge ornate gothic building of the 15th century, and we parted company as quickly as possible and joined the crowds attending the main mass of the day inside. The service had started at ten, and intercession were being offered. The Eucharistic prayer was sung in Latin, by the three con-celebrants, one of whom had a distinctively English or American sounding accent.

There was an orchestra, or maybe just drums and trumpets, plus a choir with soloists for a setting of the Mass of the Holy Spirit composed by a near contemporary of Bach, one Johan Joseph Fux. Very uplifting, and a welcome surprise to us, deprived as we were of an opportunity to attend an Anglican Sunday liturgy. I noticed seven candles on the high altar, evidence of a Bishop presiding, and indeed the man at the back of the procession going out at the end was wearing a purple biretta, quite old fashioned these days, to see that.

Afterwards we found ourselves a place where we could drink coffee and eat strudel. Clare tried the apricot and I tried the apple. I mistakenly ordered Vanilla Sauce, aka custard, for both of us, and ended up eating both lots. The we walked some more streets and ended up visiting Vienna's Jewish museum. It was an unexpected find in a side street, and both of us decided on impulse that this was something we'd prefer to see, even if it meant curtailing sightseeing.

The museum we visited displays the extensive historical research done on Jewish community life in Vienna since the end of the World War Two - survivors returned from concentration camps and a larger number of Displaced Persons driven out of communist lands in the Balkans and Central Asia, who ended up taking refuge in the city. Many were poorly treated and exploited. There was little or no interest in the persecution they had endured and they were denied the same civil rights as others. American occupation forces however protected them and helped those who wanted to go to Israel the United States, or elsewhere. Denial of the the plight of Jewish people persisted in Austria until the sixties and only after the Waldheim affair did measures to redress the injustices begin to take shape, and sit still continues.

On an upper story there is a developing collection of exhibits relating to Jewish life in Vienna from the Middle Ages to the 19th century. It's not substantial as it might be because the Nazis destroyed the previous Jewish history museum entirely, though research on recovery continues. There are also two contemporary historical exhibitions of an entirely original and different nature.

One is in a separate location we didn't visit and concerns the cultural life of the area in Vienna known as the Prater, the Viennese entertainment district with predominantly Jewish run clubs and theatres, that were avant garde in their day. Most of this disappeared during the Nazi era of persecution, along with several synagogue buildings. We saw the 'Stars of David' exhibition which is about Jewish people in radio, TV and film, writing and creating music as emigres in the United States. It was a huge eye opening multi-media celebration of Jews in show business, well worth seeing in its own right. I hope this goes on tour. I'd love to see it in Britain.

For me the entire experience made me think about how easily its possible for decent citizens to slip into denial when confronted by the plight of oppressed people. With so many needy people begging for refuge in Europe and UK at the moment, especially unaccompanied children, some of them lone survivors of families wiped out by war, some other wise upstanding citizens make excuses for inaction, others by xenophobia, anti-semitism or islamophobic behaviour. The moral voice of conscience can too easily get drowned by falsehood and anxiety. Migrants and refugees generally give back far more than they get to their host society, once they are entrusted with freedom and responsibility. And when this doesn't happen, everyone is at risk.

We had lunch in the Vienna Woods restaurant, and then visited the Skt Peter u Paulus Kirche at the end of Goldschmiedgasse, where we found an orchestra and the organ playing to a packed house. I'd have loved to stay longer, but was in search of photos and left after five pleasurable minutes of music in a fine baroque church, acoustically perfect for hearing baroque music. I found the church of the Minorites open - not what it seems - this is a Franciscan Order of Friars Minor church, of mediaeval origin. My next port of call was the Rathaus, to get a photo, and the huge imposing Burg Theatre opposite. This was enough in the time available. I then needed to head back, find Clare and go back with her to the ship on the shuttle bus provided, rich with impressions of a remarkable city centre.

After a brief siesta and supper, passengers were treated to an hour's concert by the Ars Mundi string quartet, an all female group that has been playing together twenty years. Music of Mozart, Haydn, Strauss Senior and Junior were on the bill. Their rendering of the Blue Danube suite and the Radzetsky March at the end were a fitting climax to a day of discovery of the beauty and the darker side of this key European city. So much to think about, as we cruise the last leg of our journey back to our starting point in Budapest.

On the Danube - the turning point

After another overnight journey that included passing through several locks, I'm not sure how many as I went in and out of sleep, we docked in the centre of Linz in the half light before dawn. At first sight it seemed as if we were moored outside a large industrial warehouse, dark and forbidding with an unusual shape. When the sun had risen properly, the building emerged from obscurity revealing dark grey cinder block walls clad with thick glass that was decorated with the name that gave the identity of the building. 

The writing was indeed on the wall, tens of thousands of times over 'LENTOSKUNSTMUSEUM' the city's new gallery of modern art. It had the countenance of a warehouse, because it is a place of cultural storage as much as display. It does what is says on the outside yet gives no idea of its real content. The building itself is a work of modern art, or, you might say, an artful modern work.

Last night before bed we decided that we didn't fancy a two hour coach journey each way to visit Salzburg, rated as Austria's most beautiful city. A few hours brief visit would be likley to afford more tiredness than satisfaction, so we decided to skip the tour and explore Linz instead. The view from the top deck was attractive enough, and it turned out to be a most enjoyable day, exploring the old town centre, with many fine sixteenth and seventeenth century buildings in great condition, plus some magnificent churches.

The 19th century composer Anton Bruckner was the city organist here, and composed liturgical works that were used in the churches. The astronomer Johannes Kepler worked here in the offices of the Land administration, and we found the house he lived in, quite near to the ship, in a side street. There's a 16th century Old Cathedral, plus a 19th century New Cathedral, said to be the largest church in Austria accommodating 20,000 people standing. It is indeed a fine Gothic revival building in contrast to the other baroque and renaissance churches of the city centre, indicative of the industrial wealth of the region, generated by heavy industy, downstrean. 

In the oldest quarter, an extensive international arts and crafts fair was going on, just this one day of the year, with much to attract the eye. In the main square, where the old 16th century Rathaus now serves amongst other things as a tourist centre, a huge Flohmarkt was being held, a giant outdoor jumble sale and bric a brac fair, where the vendors were as interesting and varied a crowd as a assortment of goods on sale. So much activity, so much to see. So glad we stayed.

On the way from the boat we looked into a Jesuit church and found that the Ember Day mass, for a congregation of over thirty,  had just reached the post Sanctus prayers. We stayed and prayed. I found it very moving to join in saying the Vater Unser, which I half remembered in German, having learned it at the time of our visits from Halesowen to Leipzig back in 1989. Such a blessed gift of a moment. The new Cathedral contained a memorial to the conscientious objector and martyr Franz Jagerstatter, beheaded by the Nazis for refusing to be drafted as a combatant in 1943. There was also a photo of his wife, who had only died at great age several years ago. Lovely that she was also being honoured in this way.

In the main entrance door, a wooden panel is set, dated 1936, testimony to the relationship of the established church to the regime of the time, compliant for the most part, despite the prophetic voice of martyr Franz Jagerstatter, not celebrated then as he is now. Underneath the plaque is a modern metal plaque stating the older one remains as a reminder of how things once were, adding that the 2006 Austrian Bishops conference had stared unequivocally that the church would not now endorse any totalitarian regime, but support only those who would govern by democratic and egalitarian values. Thank God for that. Lessons have been learned. All we have to do now is set our own house fully in order. A labour of Hercules.

After lunch on the ship, I walked across the Danube bridge out into the suburbs aiming to  find a way to the top of the hill overlooking Linz. I found a path which took me past a huge high school that had once been a boys seminary, and up through fields of long grass and woodland. I found a discreetly placed German military cemetery just in the woods, and starting beyond it, a Kreuzweg leading up the very steep hill, with stations of the cross built in pairs. Half way up in a clearing in the woods I found a well maintained shrine dedicated to St Hubert, patron saint of huntsmen. A few hundred metres short of the summit, I took the wrong choice of path, which led me around the contour, through an elite woodland housing estate to the point where it intersected with a tramway that runs from the town centre to the summit. Conscious of deadlines, I headed downhill rather than go to the summit. In any case I didn't have enough change for a ticket machine, which didn't accept notes or cards.

The walk down wasn't as steep, but much longer. I must have walked ten kilometres by the time I got back to the ship, tired and footsore, but I was most for the remarkable perspective of the city and its surrounding which my two and a half hour walk had afforded me.

As soon as a Salzberg trippers were all back on board, the boat left, a quarter of an hour early. It's a good 12-13 hour trip  downstream to Vienna overnight, with all those locks to negotiate!

  

Danube bound - first leg

Neither of us was finally ready to leave until after lunch on Tuesday, both of us apprehensive about this new adventure, something different for both of us. A taxi collected us after lunch and took us to start our train and bus trip to Bristol airport. A delay on final leg of the journey between Filton Abbey Wood and Temple Mead stations increased apprehension, but we were checked in for the Ryanair flight by six, with a good hour and a half to spare before boarding the flight to Budapest. We landed at eleven fifteen CET, and by the time we’d retrieved our luggage and boarded a bus to take us to where MV Jane Austen was moored in the Danube, it was half past midnight when we arrived. 

We were greeted with sandwiches and a drink, so it was nearly half past one before we got to bed. The view of floodlit Buda and the Danube from our cabin, just above water level was enchanting, but as it was late, it wasn't long before most of the lights were switch off, so there were few decent opportunities for photographing. At two the cruise ship began its engines and slowly made its way upstream through the suburbs and into open countryside. Glimpses of the night time riverside were enough to make it hard to settle down to sleep, and after four hours it was first light, and even harder to stay in bed, with so much to photograph.


At six thirty we docked at Esztergom, Hungary’s ancient capital, and still the see of the country’s equivalent of the Archbishop of Canterbury. It’s about 45 miles by river from Budapest, and the Danube passes through some beautiful mountain scenery whose deciduous forests run right down to the water’s edge. There are several small towns and villages along the way, but for the most part, there are no roads or railway lines visible along the water’s edge.

After breakfast, we walked into the older part of town, close to the landing stage, then up the steep hill to visit the huge Renaissance Cathedral, with one of the largest domes in Europe, some 70 metres high internally. It was already busy with visiting tour groups, many of whom had come in coaches which were parked in the grand square with its imposing buildings, just outside the walls encircling protectively what at one time would have been the Archbishop's castle. There was a wonderful view from the terrace at the west end of the cathedral, overlooking the great bend in the Danube. 

We learned in a talk given earlier that the opposite bank of the river wasn't Hungary but the Republic of Slovakia, formed when Czecosolvakia divided peaceably in the early 1990s after several years of arguing about a common post USSR future. Over the water is Euro-land. The Czeck Republic kept the Koruna (Crown), Hungary keeps the Florint, although the Euro is also acceptable currency, especially for visitors, except you get your change in Florints! The Florint is another antique sort of currency, like the old Italian Lira and Greek Drachma, with lots of zeroes after the numbers that matter most.

There were fine churches, museums and other places of interest to visit in the town, but after such a short night's sleep we were too tired to contemplate doing more, so we had a drink in a snack bar in the castle grounds, then walked back down to the ship ahead of the tour group that had ascended by road train, here called a 'Noddy train' from their toy like appearance. As we were eating lunch, the ship slipped its moorings and headed up river towards Bratislava, capital of the Slovak Republic, currently looking forward to hosting the next turn in the Presidency of the European Commission, with its influx of bureaucrats and special diplomatic and business events. 

We sailed for the rest of the day and were still going steadily into the night negotiating several locks, of which only one was in daylight hours. We were to tired to keep a night time sightseeing vigil, and that was that.