The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
Why we should all do the Danube differently
Art installations? Apricot cookery? A chance to conduct a virtual orchestra? Europe’s famous river holds a few surprises – especially in autumn, says Jeannine Williamson
At the bottom of a stone path I reached several ochre-coloured buildings in the narrow, cobbled street, choosing to enter the first café. I was looking for somewhere to stop after a steep 30-minute walk up to the ruins of Dürnstein’s 12th-century castle, balanced on a rocky outcrop, to gaze down on the shimmering Danube, where my ship looked like a toy on the water.
Even in mid-September my sweatshirt was too hot for the mild day and, back down again, I needed refreshment. Through the window I fixed my eyes on the pastel blue and white church tower; my marker for finding our mooring spot. My plan simply to order a coffee was scuppered as the waitress twisted my arm with the house speciality, and out came a plate of four marillenknödel: Klosterneuburger apricots smothered in cream cheese dough, sprinkled with cinnamon and with a dollop of apricot jam on the side. After I finished I was persuaded to try a tot of apricot brandy before heading back to the ship with an unexpected spring in my step.
If I’d been in town a couple of months earlier, during the summer’s apricot harvest, I could have tasted the fruits fresh. They are so revered that only fruit from the 100,000 or so trees in the valley can be called Wachau apricots. It is during the autumn months that visitors can learn how, in this part of Austria, these apricots are a year-round staple, preserved in cakes, chutneys, chocolate and ice cream. Autumn is also the time when this stretch of the Danube makes for spectacular sailing: the summer crowds are gone; the weather is mild but generally pleasant; and the vineyards and forests slopes of the valley between Melk and Krems are clad in a spectacular mantle of red and gold.
But there is more to the old river than this Unesco-listed patch. Now that green-listed Austria is once again welcoming travellers from Britain, Iam reminded of why autumn is a lovely time to sail the Danube. The midsummer hordes have gone, there are fewer vessels on the water and – best of all – the sun still shines, so you can make the most of changing landscapes from the open top deck.
Thankfully, entry and quarantine restrictions have been lifted on the other destinations lining its banks – of utmost importance for a transnational waterway. Rising in Germany’s Black Forest, the Danube winds through 10 countries, including four capitals – Vienna, Budapest, Bratislava and Belgrade – before reaching the Black Sea.
The most popular itineraries, offered by virtually every river cruise line, are one-week sailings between Budapest and Passau, or week-long round-trips from Passau. Budapest and Vienna – generally a two or three-day sail stopping at Melk and Bratislava in between – remain the headline acts. In one you will moor in the heart of the city overnight before the Hungarian parliament is lit up at sunset, casting a golden reflection on the river; in the other the Schönbrunn Palace (the summer residence of the Habsburg) is a lure – of the 1,441 rooms, 45 are open to visitors.
But to get the very best from the places that line the Danube, seek out the quirkier, lesser-known spots. Otherwise you risk being stuck in a touristtrap restaurant being serenaded by strolling minstrels demanding money, or listening to poor renditions of the omnipresent Blue Danube Waltz.
The Hospital in the Rock is one such secret, hewn into caves beneath Budapest’s Castle Hill. The subterranean infirmary was used during the Second World War siege of Budapest and the 1956 revolution. The government declassified its existence only in 2002, and many Hungarians still don’t know about it. The wards contain original equipment, including operating instruments, and are brought to life by waxwork figures (yes, it is creepy, but also quite fascinating).
Almost as strange is the House of Music in Vienna, a five-floor interactive museum in a former palace. Visitors can scale a musical staircase and pick up a baton to conduct a virtual orchestra. Be warned, the musicians respond to a poor sense of rhythm and, as a result of my rookie efforts, downed their instruments and walked off stage.
Moving on downriver, some ships stop at Grein, a medieval town overlooked by a lofty castle. It is home to Austria’s oldest municipal theatre, which dates back to 1791 and is still in regular use; the original wooden seats have been worn smooth by years of shuffling discomfort. The toilet, shielded from the auditorium by a flimsy curtain so the occupant could hear what was happening on stage, is no longer used.
A decade ago you might think the Danube ended at Bratislava as few river cruise lines ventured beyond the compact Slovakian capital, which is dotted with unusual art installations – hunt for Cumil, a bronze statue peeking out from a manhole cover. Nowadays many operators sail on through Serbia, Bulgaria and Romania to one of the Danube’s prize stops. The river delta is
When I picked up the baton, the musicians downed instruments and walked off stage
Europe’s largest wetland. Boasting over 5,500 species of flora and fauna, it is the the third largest biodiversity area in the world. The 300-plus species of bird include Europe’s largest population of white pelicans; you can see all this much more clearly on small-boat safaris that nudge through dense corridors of reeds to reach vast lagoons.
The journey along the lower Danube is so different from its upper counterpart that it could be another river, flowing down miles of unpopulated stretches or banks of rustic homes and improvised “beaches” where locals bask in the low autumn sunlight. It is here that you will find the Iron Gates gorge, sandwiched between the foothills of the Carpathian and Balkan Mountains. Once the most treacherous stretch of the lower Danube, and taking up to four days to traverse, it was tamed by a double lock system built in 1971. Today, ships glide through in 90 minutes, passing beneath a rock carving of Decebalus, the last king of the Dacians.
At the delta, prepare to steady yourself as the captain heads out to sea and the boat bobs unnervingly on the waves. This marks zero nautical miles, the spot where the second longest river in Europe reaches the end of its 1,777-mile journey.