Hrad Karlštejn (Karlštejn Castle), just outside Prague, Czech Republic. Founded under Charles IV of Bohemia when he was elected Holy Roman Emperor. There is a tradition that he had the miners from Kutna Hora who constructed its underground water reservoir murdered so that none could reveal its existence.
17251. (Carl Maria von Weber) Symphony #1 in C, J.50
17252. (Carl Maria von Weber) Symphony #2 in C, J.51
17253. (Carl Maria von Weber) Music for Schiller’s Turandot, J.75: Overture
17254. (Carl Maria von Weber) Music for Schiller’s Turandot, J.75: March
17255. (Sandy Scofield) Dirty River
17256. (Sándor Kalla und seine Zigeuner Kapelle) Kulacs Restaurant: Berühunte Umgarische
. . . . . ZigeunerLieder und Immergrüne Melodien
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15055. (Captain Marryat) The Settlers In Canada
15056. (P. G. Wodehouse) Aunts Aren’t Gentlemen
15057. (Agatha Christie) Three-Act Tragedy
15058. [6] (Edgar Pangborn) A Mirror for Observers
15059. (P. G. Wodehouse) The Inimitable Jeeves
15060. (Gyula Kristó) Early Transylvania, 895–13245
15062. (Jan Kulich) Kutná Hora, St. Barbara Cathedral and the Town
15063. (P. G. Wodehouse) Jeeves in the Offing
Three days in Budapest. We did a lot of walking in this city, which has a feels totally different from Prague. Often, we ate in the gigantic Central Market. This grand structure originally incorporated an indoor canal by which goods were delivered to the market’s traders. It must be four times the size of the St. Lawrence Market in Toronto, and houses only god knows how many tons of sausages. I particularly liked snacking on lángos, flat disks of fried dough which came with a variety of ingredients, sort of like pizza slices. They would be a big hit in Canada if they were introduced. Read more »
Back in Braşov, we had a late lunch at the cafe on top of Tâmpa Hill (995 m), then split up to have a break from each other. I contacted an acquaintance in Braşov, Titus Peride, and we met for beers and talk at a subterranean student bistro. A very enjoyable discussion about Romanian culture and history, economics, and other subjects. When this finished, I walked toward the hostel, and dropped into a small cafe. But one thing led to another, and I found myself drinking with a group of Romanians. Some were actors, one who had played many serious roles, such as the plays of Ioenesco and Genet’s Le Balcon. The conversation was a chaotic mixture of Romanian, French, Italian, Magyar, Russian, German, Turkish and Arabic, all jumbled together with a background score of Romanian doina and clouds of cigarette smoke. I was completely unprepared for the style of drinking in such a context: full tumblers of whiskey followed by glasses of sickly sweet Red Bull, alternating. I stumbled back to the hostel, where Isaac and I shared a single room. A few hours later, Isaac found me pawing confusedly at the door handle, trying to get to the bathroom to throw up. The world was spinning around me, and the only way I could manage was to crawl on my hands and knees. I was not a pleasant sight.
I had not been so shit-faced drunk in many years. I’m not normally a heavy drinker, and this kind of socializing is not my style. But I sobered up relatively quickly, the next day. We did a bit more sight-seeing, got tickets for an evening train to Budapest, and ended up going back to the hostel to relax. We watched an American teen comedy called Kids In America in the hostel lounge. The long train ride to Budapest would not involve much sleep. The compartment was full, with some elderly women who chattered in Romanian pretty much non-stop. No comfortable position was possible. It must have been torture for Isaac, who has very long legs. Finally, somewhere in Hungary, the ladies left the train, and we stretched out, exhausted, for a few hours of snoozing.
The citadel at Deva was absolutely spectacular. It perched on a rugged peak, overlooking the city, and could only be reached by a funicular railway. It was pretty hard to imagine how it had been built. Every block and beam dragged up by ropes? It was in a picturesquely ruined state. The view, over Deva (pop. 80,000) and the surrounding countryside, was beautiful. The little, cone-shaped mountain the citadel perches upon is protected for its rare floral species and the presence of the horned adder. We didn’t stay long, as we had booked a train that left for Braşov in a few hours. This would be another long, overnight haul, which would land us in that city in the wee hours of the morning. Lonely Planet had recommended two hostels there, so we planned to just emerge from the railway station and try to find them. Read more »
After the detailed tour of Sarmizegetusa, Dr. Constantin offered to give a lift to Isaac and myself to Deva. He said that there was a fine 13th century citadel, which we would probably like to see, and that we could easily get a train from there to Braşov, our next destination. He had grown up in the region, in fact had been a shepherd himself, part of the distinctive subculture of “mountain men“ of Hunedoara, He had an intimate knowledge of the area’s history, geology, agriculture, and society. Read more »
