Melk, the Wachau Valley and Durnstein

The abbey from the river

The thing about travelling from Amsterdam to Budapest instead of the other way round is that you arrive at spots at different times of the day – as well as in different weather. Whereas last journey we’d arrived at Melk right on sundown, this time we were there early in the morning, and went up to the abbey after breakfast.

I wasn’t at all surprised to find that photos were no longer permitted inside the building. I’m constantly amazed at how many people don’t understand, or maybe don’t care about, “no flash, please”. Last time we were here Peter took a lot of shots (sans flash) with his tablet and they might be a bit grainy at A3, but they’re plenty good for showing on a screen. But you’ll have to look at the 2015 post to see those.

The garden

We had a different guide showing us through the buildings. It seemed to me the tour was shorter and we didn’t get to see even a glimpse of the ancient library used in the novel The Name of the Rose – which we did last time. I’m afraid I’m too cynical for talk of ‘pieces of the true cross’, or a thorn from the crown of thorns placed on Jesus’ head. And of course, while I saw the artistic merit of the stunning displays in the church itself, I always find myself thinking about the peasants who ultimately supported this extravagance.

Since it was daylight, we walked back through the little town at the base of the hill where the abbey sits. It’s the usual collection of houses around a cobblestoned square. No castle here – just the imposing bulk of the abbey.

Back on the ship, we went through the Wachau Valley. The Amaverde carries 25 bicycles, and guests were offered the chance of pedaling from Melk to our next destination through the valley along the river. All the bikes were snapped up. We (of course) generously gave up the opportunity to younger, fitter people. Good of us, I thought.

We sailed past castles and vineyards, until we saw Durnstein castle perched on the crag above the town. Last time, we tied up at Durnstein before dawn so I was able to take some beautiful photos of sunrise and the town, as you’ll see here. This was a very different view, from the opposite direction. We also got to see a statue against the rockface, representing King Richard and his faithful minstrel, Blondel, who (according to legend) found where Richard was imprisoned by playing a familiar tune until Richard sang along. Pssst. Apparently it’s just a legend.

Richard and Blondel

The ruined castle perched on the hill above the town

Pete and I fancied the idea of climbing up to the ruined castle. If Sandy and Col could do it, surely we could? Before we set out for the peak, we wandered around the riverside until we found an arched stairwell with a sign that said “to the town”. Sounded good to us. But it was much longer, and steeper, than we had imagined. After a last, heart-pounding scramble we stood in the main street and looked up at the old castle, far, far, far above. Maybe we’d leave that for another time.

A few gentle stairs up to the main street. Uh-huh.

A last heart-stopping scramble to the street. I felt like Sam and Frodo in Cirith Ungol

We liked Durnstein. Because it has a warmer micro-climate the farmers can grow apricots, so you can buy apricot-most-things here. Such as apricot schnapps. We don’t recommend it in coffee, though.

All things apricot

A steep lane down to the river, with vineyards on the opposite bank

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