There Are No Kangaroos in Austria

Thursday was a bit of a catch up day after our visit to Vienna. We woke up in Dürnstein, a small village in the Wachau Valley. As we headed west on the Danube, the scenery grew increasingly more beautiful, and Dürnstein was no exception. We could see rows upon rows of crops high in the hills, which turned out to be apricots and grapes. The Wachau valley is known for its wine, especially apricot flavored, and I felt like Forrest Gump as I looked around the shops. Apricot wine, apricot schnapps, apricot liquor, apricot chocolate, apricot soap, apricot nectar, apricot cakes, apricot cookies, and just plain apricots. You can eat ‘em, drink ‘em, bake ‘em, etc., etc…Dürnstein is also famous for castle ruins from the 1300’s, and the Dürnstein Monastery from the 1400’s.

We leisurely made our way to the end of the main street, which was difficult because the narrow streets were crowded with tourists, locals, and many cyclists passing through. We finally made it to the end, and were rewarded with a beautiful view of the Danube and the surrounding mountains. Not only Dürnstein, but the whole Wachau Valley is known for its wine, so there were rows of crops as far as we could see.

Back in Vienna, the t-shirts all had to do with Mozart, and St. Stephen’s Cathedral, and all things Viennese. However, out in the country, the souvenir shops have a better selection of shirts, including the ever popular, “There Are No Kangaroos in Austria.” I may or may not have picked up a little something for Tom Dunlap, as his only request when I was leaving was to bring him back a “No Kangaroos in Austria” shirt. I hope you don’t mind pink, TD… (kidding.)

Our schedule only allowed for two hours here, so after a few photos we headed back toward the ship (for those were wondering, the captain confirmed that we are indeed to refer to it as a SHIP, because we are carrying a boat onboard – a lifeboat). Along the way, we stopped at a fruit stand and bought a quart of fresh apricots for 2.30€ (less than $4). We’ve been snacking on them ever since, and have four left as of 11:53 Saturday evening.

Once back on the ship, we had lunch while the River Beatrice sailed through the Wachau Valley toward Melk. Papa has said many times that the scenery is impossible to describe, and he’s right, so I won’t even try. Finally, around 2pm we docked in Melk, a small village that is home to the impressive Melk Benedictine Monastery. Our local guide showed us a small section of the complex, but one hallway of one wing alone was over 600 yards long (I think there were about 7 wings, including the actual church part). The museum part was filled with tons of old, important things, like a life size crucifix that was over 800 years old.

We made our way back to the ship via the main street, which turned out to be more interesting than the Monastery. Did I already mention that the temperature was about 100 degrees on Thursday? As Papa and I stumbled into a café, parched and panting, we were a little surprised to find that we were now spectators of some sort of Tibetan festival. The first clue was the chanting monks and dancing natives, the second was the "I Love Tibet" t-shirts and "Free Tibet" posters. I also saw a poster for a Bongo Reggae festival the next day. Too bad we were only in Melk for the afternoon....

When we finally cooled off, the trek continued. Hildegard, our cruise manager/jane-of-all-trades gave us brief directions to get back to the ship, which were different than the way the bus went to the Monastery. After missing a turn, stumbling upon a Speedo-clad fisherman, and nearly sweating to death, we made it what I like to refer to as "Mosquito Misery", AKA, a path through the Austrian forest where Papa and I nearly lost our lives due to itch. As soon as we set foot on the path, they began to circle, and as soon as I ran out (swatting and scratching), they were gone. Ew.

We enjoyed another excellent dinner prepared by our chef, Carlos. "The Untouchables" performed in the lounge that evening, and Papa had numerous offers to dance, none of which he accepted. When bedtime rolled around, we were more than ready.