20 June 2005 Monday
MELK, AUSTRIA
6:20am
We passed into Austria about 6:30pm Somehow there really is a distinction that can be made between the German land and the Austrian land. We are putting to in the regular way. Come up to the pier, lay out the ramp and then secure the aluminum walkway by means of crane and such, The bank to the left has a ribbon of rocks and a bank that slopes up, then a thick wall of trees and the beyond the hills rise up. Yesterday neat buildings slid by, nestled in the dark green.
In the lobby, next to the pastry plate that sits out in the early morning before breakfast is served, one of our travellers speaks to the captain about his 40 years of boating. He speaks of the maintenance and the upkeep of his sailboat in an attempt to engage a fellow sailor in the rarefied language of water. The captain laughs,"I have never sailed not one meter. Only motorboats," he says. Politely excuses himself and steps outside the sliding glass doors to the sailors: weather worn men with fair hair and reddened skin and stout bodies. There is one lean fellow in particular. No nonsense. No frills. He strides around and up and down, he throws ropes and hoists and is completely unconscious of we ignorant passengers. Job to do. Never smiles. Rarely talks. Work work work.
This must be a difficult life. Months of sailing up and down the rivers. But the sailors, ever present, always wakeful as we pass through lock after lock after lock after lock. Now, every lock that we pass through brings us lower and lower, where everything up until about 2 days ago went higher and higher and higher. A long barge with a slender body like the snout of an alligator passes. The Sura from Luxembourg. Limp flag from Bavaria on the back to identify its German origins.
After many polite passenger inquiries about my emails, it is clear that I should make these electronic missives available to everyone and anyone in blogform. After a half hour of tossing late last night, I worked it all out smoothly in my mind and then felt better.
8:00am. Lots of activity in the lobby. I should be finishing my packing as we sail from Melk to Vienna between 11:00 am and 6:00pm. That should be more than enough time.
At Melk Abbey we will be seeing the monastery that was apparently the inspiration for Umberto Ecco's 'The Name of the Rose.' At 6:00 PM we will be leaving the boat for the musical performance in Vienna and then wake-up call at 3:00 am and suitcases out by 4:15 am. Then we are off to the airport at 5:00am for our short hop to Zurich and then our longer Atlantic hop to Dulles.
One woman, clearly not comfortable with heights, verifies with Katya that our bus does not have cling to the side of some precarious road up and up and up to the Melk Abbey. No. Don’t worry.
Boat rocking, and as the sliding door opens. Gerald, the program director of the red group wears a red shirt that proudly announces 'Osterreich'. Red on red. Now that’s Austrian pride!
Time to send. I am off.
Melk
The buses, we were told, were not far. They could not get any closer than they already were, so Katya sent off those who were ready. Just follow the path along the water and you will come to a parking lot.Yet another fabulously crisp blue-skied day. We pass several homes, including one set well back from the path, low white picket fence and some stone structures. We board the buses and settle in for the short ride to the Melk Abbey.
Katya boards, somewhat frazzled. She tells us that she had inadvertently left the voucher book on the ship and would we be so kind as to wait a few minutes while she ran back. Of course, since there was no entering the Abbey without payment. She returns, now thoroughly breathless.
Bad news, she tells us. Sometime during the night, one of the engines broke. Machine head damage. Was that the awful grinding metallic sound that I heard last night, thinking that this was yet another lock, or a scraping along the sides of the walls? Last night the ship was able to limp on to Melk on one engine but it was uncertain whether we would be able to get to Vienna reliably on one engine.
We are told that ship engineers are on their way from the Netherlands, but there remains an important question: How will we arrive in Vienna? By boat or by bus?
So it was a minor miracle that we could have been tied up so innocently at Melk. The River Harmony could have just as well been floating dead in the middle of the river with all engines disabled. We have been taking everything for granted. Silent thanks to the crew.
There is still the morning in Melk Abbey however. And despite the uncertainty, our morning is meant for Melk. The bus trip is a very short one, out of the parking lot, across a bridge, up a winding road to another lot. Only a bit of a descent on stairs to the Abbey grounds. It has all become an even greater adventure, and the spirit of the group is relatively undampened.
Cultivated gardens. Maze-like, I think, though we did not have time to examine them carefully. We walked on through a formal entrance into a large rectangular courtyard with modern metal sculptures. Our local guides are young 20-something Austrian women.
Our group leader tells us that this is not only an active Benedictine monastery (we have encountered many Benedictine communities on this trip!), but these buildings also house the public high school. Whoa. Handsome classical buildings are on all four sides, and most of the windows are wide open. I wonder how many classes are being held at this very moment, and how different the typical American public school would look! Perhaps it would not be so difficult to lure excellent high school teachers to the classroom if all high schools looked like this. For sure.
Within the four facades are modern paintings interpreting the four Benedictine philosophies. The only one that remains in my mind is Faith, though I am impressed with the Benedictines. These modern pieces displayed a degree of artistic enlightenment.
Exhibit of interesting interpretations of symbol and icon and history and historical figures. Artifacts and reliquary and vestments. One artist documents a day in the abbey with projections on all four walls. There is a chest with dozens of antique locks. A scale model of the abbey rotates slowly on a rectangular table.
Out to a terrace overlooking the town of Melk. As always, picturesque gathering of neat roofs and streets that snake between and gardens and the Danube beyond. It was at this point, in view of the lovely Austrian hill and dale, that I wanted to really get home. Almost all the space in my brain was completely taken up with postcard after postcard of German and Austrian vistas.
The terrace curved around and we stood amid towering shelves of books. Ah! This was the famed library that inspired Ecco’s ‘The Name of the Rose." However the movie version was far more primitive, windowless, dreary and grim. And the books were not for public viewing, but hidden away as all knowledge in the medieval days was not deemed ‘safe’ for common consumption. These books that we were seeing were not the most valuable naturally, only the younger ones capable of withstanding an unregulated environment. So all books were still not available.
Through the church, once again an elaborate testament to Benedictine devotion and then down a deceptive spiral stair with a clever mirror at the bottom. A device to remind the viewer of illusion and reality. Lots of cameras came out to record that little trick.
At the other end of the church visit, our tour guides informed us that our ship was indeed going to remain in Melk for repairs. Our mission was now to return to the River Harmony and pack before lunch. Instructions would be given at that time. Purpose set in heavily.
There was a choice to be made for we visitors of the Abbey: either wait for the GCT bus at the designated spot in Melk, or walk. And it was not a bad walk becauseof the downward direction. There was a row of stores that needed to be examined albeit swiftly.
Bright blue band of sky, square church tower ahead but no time to peek inside. The walk across the bridge and between the two rows of towering trees was gorgeous, though in our minds we were already packing and zipping and squeezing all the excess air out of our luggage.
Lunch was still scheduled for the same time, but I was very aware that we would be seeing these warm Slovakian smiles for the last ship’s meal. Last buffet, last soup, last coffee regular with soya milk, last fruit cup. My mother and I still had about an hour of the final tucking and crushing and checking under things to be ready for our trip home. Key deposits, tips dispersed. Hugs all around.
We were all to have our suitcases outside our rooms by 3:00 pm with the proper bits of yarn conspicuously tied to the handles. Bags needed to be loaded on the appropriate buses, but not brought out to the narrow halls until the staff was ready to move them.
Our departure was an orderly affair with the entire crew on hand to systematically recede. All in all a simple affair.
Our bags were placed beneath the buses and we made our final farewells to the crew as they stood on either side of us on the ramp. Appropriately ceremonial, though the most dear farewells were made between the crew and the tour guides.
The quiet trip to Vienna in the Austrian countryside took less time than planned. Our previously optional program of ‘Musical Vienna’ had became a free concert for all at the Kursalon. Our early arrival enabled us to take two loops through busy Vienna. This was by far the most populated city we had entered throughout the entire trip. Monuments and civic buildings and tram lines and cars and buses and MacDonald’s/Starbucks and advertisements. It was a sort of segway back to the present.
And there was a small segment of the Danube within the tall buildings and billboards; a dirty strip of water between two narrow walls. Is that what had happened to the cheerful little watery way that we had left behind in Melk? Somehow that was an unpleasant letdown. Our wonderful water journey had ended so abruptly that we were never really able to bid a proper farewell to the Danube.
Our buses deposited us a bit early at the Kursalon, a building for both dining and concert going. There is time to walk about the park before the tables are set for our dinner. We all walk around and perch on various benches before walking in for our meal.
It is a fine meal, lots of wine. Can’t remember anymore than that. The performance is upstairs with some very talented musicians and vocalists. Particularly memorable was a young man and woman with beautiful operatic voices. By the end of the performance I know that we were relieved. There was very little time to rest before the final trip home.
The upscale nh Vienna Airport Hotel boasted very chic accommodations. Every bit of furnishing, lighting, and space was integrated and well designed. The translucent shower wall between the bath and the sleeping area was INTERESTING, however I for one would have loved to have had more days at that hotel. Our bags were already delivered to our rooms and we asked for a 4 o’clock wakeup call. Barely unpacked. Light sleep before our long trip home.
posted by Articulate Pen @ 6:07 AM
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