NewsBite

Advertisement

To explore the less predictable side of Europe, this is the way to do it

By Kerry van der Jagt
This article is part of Traveller’s Holiday Guide to river cruising.See all stories.

Watch out for the lone horseman, warns guide Albena Darakchieva as she leads us through a fissure in the Belogradchik Rocks.

Engulfed by thick fog we step across the threshold and enter a world of soaring sandstone pillars and animal-shaped boulders.

The Belogradchik Rocks Fortress.

The Belogradchik Rocks Fortress.Credit: iStock

Following the trail ever upwards, we pause to inspect fairy chimneys, to gaze down upon fortress walls and to take in views of the army of stone figures spread across the mountainside.

Here, on the western slopes of the Balkan Mountains in the far north-west of Bulgaria, the Belogradchik Rocks form a 30-kilometre belt of sandstone and conglomerate rocks.

Forged under the sea more than 240 million years ago, the red-hued rocks have been sculpted by natural forces into human and animal forms – the Horseman, the Madonna, the School Girl, the Dervish – each figure associated with a legend.

To the Romans, Byzantines and Ottoman Turks, these rocks were a strategic stronghold within which to build their fortresses; to our small group on a shore excursion from Viking Lofn they are as unexpected as if we’ve docked on the far side of the Moon.

I’m in Bulgaria as part of an 11-day “Passage to Eastern Europe” cruise along the Danube River from Bucharest, Romania, to Budapest, Hungary, and I’m making new discoveries every day.

It seems the famous gladiator and rebel leader Spartacus was born in the region of modern-day Bulgaria not Rome, and that I can eat seven Romanian doughnuts in one sitting.

All this and it’s only day three.

Advertisement

With a name meaning the Norse Goddess of Comfort, Viking Lofn carries just 190 passengers with a crew of 53.

While the Danube’s entire journey from the Black Forest of Western Germany to the Black Sea in Romania and Ukraine covers 2850 kilometres, we’ll be tracing a still substantial 800 kilometres of it in what is referred to as the Lower (eastern) Danube.

Our voyage passes through five vastly different countries, where the landscape changes rapidly, morphing from raked vineyards to dramatic cliffs to Soviet-era villages with each bend of the river.

My interest in the breakup of both the Soviet Union and Yugoslavia (and love of Balkan sweets) has led me this way before but only by plane, train and automobile.

By cruising upstream from Romania through Bulgaria, Serbia, Croatia and Hungary I’ll gain fresh insights while sidestepping the crowds of the better-known European hotspots.

And unlike the broiling heat of the recent summer, I’ve chosen to travel in mid-autumn, where the only thing burning is the colour of the chestnut trees.

Bucharest, Romania: The real Paris of the East

If Eastern Europe is the less predictable cousin to the West, it makes sense to travel with a cruise line well-versed in its nuances. Founded in 1997, Viking Cruises offers destination-focused journeys designed to help guests untangle the mysteries and histories of the cultures they travel through.

Throw in expert guest lecturers, a curated reference library, regional cuisine and optional privileged access to places otherwise difficult to visit, and it’s easy to see why Viking is billed as the “thinking person’s” cruise.

We board in the Romanian capital of Bucharest, where the Scandinavian-style design and paired-back elegance of the Viking Lofn is immediately obvious, but over the coming days it’s the depth and variety of excursions I grow to value the most.

Fountains along the tree-lined Bulevardul Unirii, a major thoroughfare in central Bucharest, with the Palace of the Parliament in the background.

Fountains along the tree-lined Bulevardul Unirii, a major thoroughfare in central Bucharest, with the Palace of the Parliament in the background. Credit: iStock

A “Sights and Flavours of Bucharest” tour leads us around the city on a progressive dinner, where traditional dishes are served with a side of architecture.

We start at Becker Brau brewery for beer and appetisers before moving to a classic art nouveau-style inn in the Interbelic district for a hearty main served with matching wines.

Dessert sees us scoffing Romanian fried doughnuts inside a graceful Neo-Romanesque villa before a slug of sour cherry brandy warms our bellies for a stroll around the Old Town.

This is my third visit to Bucharest, and I am still smitten by its Beauty and the Beast charm, where Beaux-Arts architecture and wide, French-style boulevards are tempered by brutalist communist buildings.

“At first glance, Bucharest is a difficult city to love,” says our guide Catalin Calaceo, as she leads us on a morning tour of the city. “But dig a little and you will find it has many treasures.”

There’s been a lot of digging going on at Vlad the Impaler’s former 15th-century court, now an archaeological site of medieval ruins. “Bran Castle in Transylvania is a fairytale,” says Calaceo, “this is where the real Dracula lived.”

Dracula’s fortress … Bran Castle.

Dracula’s fortress … Bran Castle.Credit: iStock

Like all the best guides, Calaceo has a knack for showing the star attractions, such as the 300-year-old Stavropoleos Church, as well as making time for contemporary highlights like Carturesti Carusel, once an abandoned 19th-century building, now a stunning bookshop, art gallery and cafe.

“Much of our Old Town was destroyed in the 1980s under communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu,” says Calaceo, “so we celebrate what we have left.”

I’m shocked to hear that Ceausescu’s plans for a new Bucharest led to the destruction of almost one fifth of the city and the forced relocation of 40,000 people.

Even more astonishing are Calaceo’s stories about a group of defiant engineers who moved more than a dozen churches and other historic buildings along metal tracks to save them from demolition. “Rolling them a few metres each day you could hardly see them moving.”

We see the conclusion of Ceausescu’s evil plan at the Palace of the Parliament, more a testament to a madman than a “Palace of the People”.

With its 3000 rooms, nuclear bunker and retractable glass ceiling wide enough for a helicopter, it was Ceausescu’s dream to build the largest, most lavish civic building in the world. “More like the world’s stupidest building,” says Calaceo with a sniff.

After ruling Romania from 1965, Ceausescu – forever known as the Butcher of Bucharest – was overthrown, tried and executed on Christmas Day 1989. The building (second largest after the Pentagon in Washington) remains unfinished.

Bulgaria: Of fortresses, fiends and fresh pies

An overnight sail brings us to Viden in northern Bulgaria, one of the country’s oldest towns where we remain docked for the day. While some choose to explore the medieval fortress of Baba Vida, I’ve signed up for two, half-day tours designed to bring me deeper into rural Bulgaria.

“Viden is the poorest region of Bulgaria,” says our local guide Albena Darakchieva, wasting no time in painting a grim picture of a country still recovering from 50 years of Soviet rule. “More than half of our people have moved away to bigger cities or emigrated.”

Driving through the foothills of the Balkan Mountains we pass ghost villages, where wooden houses huddle in forlorn groups, their shoulders slumped from the weight of Jack and the Beanstork vines.

Darakchieva points out an abandoned telephone factory, which reminds me of something I’ve seen in Chernobyl, and a derelict school where blackened windows stare back at me like rows of eyes.

“The nightmare began in 1944 when the Red Army invaded,” says Darakchieva. “At first, it was thought the Soviets were liberators, but by 1946 they’d installed a communist regime, confiscated our land and forced our people to work in factories. My grandfather was so angry he pushed his tractors over a cliff.”

After the Fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, Bulgaria transitioned to a parliamentary democracy, where elections were guaranteed and land previously confiscated was handed back. “But our connection to the land was long lost,” says Darakchieva.

On approach to the town of Belogradchick, Darakchieva’s mood lifts, as we see new hotels and restaurants being built to support tourism that is growing around the rocks and fortress. Art galleries and museums are popping up and discoveries of Roman ruins is putting Belogradchick on the map.

The city of Belogradchick and its fortress.

The city of Belogradchick and its fortress.Credit: iStock

“You coming here on ships is the best thing to happen to this region since the fall of communism,” she says, leading us through the outer walls of the Belogradchick fortress.

Later that day, in a rustic farmhouse on the outskirts of Viden I’m welcomed by the kindly Yonovi family to join them for a cooking class.

“We want to teach you how to make banitsa pie,” says Niki Yonovi, guiding my hands to layer the filo pastry, “But we also want to charge you with positive energy from our land.”

Served hot, straight from the oven and drizzled with honey foraged from forest hives, it may be the most memorable pie of my life.

Back on board our cultural immersion in this remarkable town continues, with a talk by students from the local high school and a dance performance by the Vidin Children’s Ensemble.

Serbia: Hikes, bikes and buttocks

From Viden we have a free morning, cruising through the Iron Gates Gorge, one of Europe’s most dramatic natural formations.

Excitement is high, and I’m not sure whether to enjoy the ever-evolving spectacle from my private verandah (with a celebratory glass of champagne) or from the sun deck (with a pot of tea and cake). I manage both.

At just 132 metres at its most narrow it’s a tight squeeze, with Romania’s Carpathian Mountains on the north bank and the foothills of Serbia’s Balkan Mountains on the south.

The head of King Decebalus in the Danube Gorges, Romania.

The head of King Decebalus in the Danube Gorges, Romania. Credit: iStock

We glide past the rock sculpture of the face of King Decebalus, our ship dwarfed by the soaring limestone cliffs, their chalky surfaces hung with garlands of orange, scarlet and gold foliage.

A few hours later I’m crunching through autumn leaves inside Serbia’s Djerdap National Park, where fire salamanders dart between our feet and white-tailed eagles soar overhead.

Up we go, led by a national park guide to a scenic viewpoint, where we snack on Serbian sweets while absorbing the beauty of the Iron Gates from above. In the distance I spot Viking Lofn, a child’s toy floating in a ribbon of blue.

It’s early evening when we cruise into Golubac, an after-hours tour of the illuminated fortress an appetiser before our speciality Taste of the Balkans dinner.

I forgo the main onboard restaurant for a table for two on the Aquavit terrace, a quiet indoor/outdoor alternative at the bow of the ship with 180 degrees of floor-to-ceiling glass doors.

Meals aboard the rivership are a highlight, with relaxed three-course lunches and elegant four-course dinners, which also include regional specialities (who knew something called Transylvanian sour soup could have such a bite) and a range of classic “always available” Western favourites.

Cruising overnight brings us to Belgrade, the former capital of the state of Yugoslavia, and today’s Serbian capital, where, during an early morning stroll through Kalemegdan Park I come eye-to-rump with a set of naked male buttocks.

Belgrade’s bohemian quarter.

Belgrade’s bohemian quarter.Credit: iStock

No, no, not fleshy ones – that would be too much before my first coffee – but a 14-metre high sculpture known as The Victor monument, built to honour the victory of the Serbian army over the Ottoman and Austrian-Hungarian empires. Sans uniform, he is said to belong to “all people”.

The city is an easy walk from where we are docked, and with an 8pm departure, I have time to explore further afield on an afternoon bike excursion followed by an impromptu dinner in Skadarlija, Belgrade’s bohemian quarter.

The Victor monument.

The Victor monument.Credit: iStock

Croatia to Hungary: From conflicts to cowboys

To many, Croatia can represent little more than Dubrovnik, that over-touristed “Pearl of the Adriatic” in the far south of the country.

But here on the Danube in the north-eastern town of Ilok we find ourselves inside a Baroque-style palace, built on the foundations of a 15th-century castle, with not another river cruise ship or Game of Thrones fan within sight.

Known as Odescalchi Palace, this “Noble of the Danube” is now a museum, housing an exquisite collection of artefacts from the early Roman period, Middle Ages to modern times. The museum is normally closed on Mondays but has been opened today just for Viking passengers.

Viking Lofn’s Aquavit Terrace.

Viking Lofn’s Aquavit Terrace.

Afterwards, we descend 12 metres underground to the castle’s 500-year-old wine cellar, where priceless bottles are still kept, some vintages famously served during the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II and the wedding of Charles and Diana.

Feeling like monarchs ourselves, we head to the tasting room to learn about local varietals such as Grasevina and Traminac.

Cruising to Vukovar we have more sobering lessons to learn. Known as “Croatia’s Hiroshima”, the town of Vukovar was under siege by the Yugoslav People’s Army and Serbian forces for 87 days from August 25, 1991, until the city finally fell on November 16, 1991. A total of 3000 lives were lost and the city was razed to the ground.

While many buildings still carry the scars of bullet holes, it’s the war-damaged skeleton of the 50.3-metre-high water tower that moves me the most. Having suffered more than 600 direct hits it continues to stand proudly as the symbol of Croatian resistance.

Taking a lift to the top, I look out beyond the Danube and think deeply about the suffering of war around the world, and how we never seem to learn from the past.

After Vukovar we have a free morning of cruising, where I happily while away the hours in my verandah stateroom.

It’s comfortable and elegant, complete with Scandi-style decor of blonde, taupe and teal, queen-size bed and floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors.

The light and bright theme continues through the public areas, including the library, restaurant, observation lounge and Aquavit Terrace, a casual, al fresco at the bow of the ship where breakfast and lunch can be taken.

On river cruising days, the Viking Lofn’s sundeck is the place to be, with its panoramic views of daily life along the Danube River.

For me, this is the pleasure of river cruising – lying in bed and watching the ever-changing scenery before pulling up in the heart of a town and stepping ashore. Today, only the promise of wild horses will drag me away.

As a long-time equestrian, I’ve been fortunate to see the Andalusian horses of Spain and the Lipizzaners of Vienna, yet for sheer excitement these two don’t come close to the power and strength of Hungary’s Nonius horse.

Puszta Black Horses.

Puszta Black Horses.

An excursion to Kalocsa brings me to a wide field in the Hungarian plains of Puszta, where I watch in awe (and a touch of terror) as bands of Hungarian cowboys or csikos, descendants of the nomadic Magyar warriors from the steppes of Asia, put these gallant horses through their paces.

The finale is a “Puszta fiver”, where a rider stands on the backs of two horses at once while holding the reins and driving five more. With mud flying and the csikos’ blue tunics billowing, it is a moment seared forever on my horse-loving heart.

By tomorrow we’ll be in Budapest, enjoying an included two-night hotel stay in a location ideal for exploring one of Europe’s most beguiling cities.

Cruising into Budapest.

Cruising into Budapest.

But for now, with my face and jeans splattered with mud, I’m happy, not just to connect with the cultural heritage of a little-visited part of Eastern Europe, but to play a part in its conservation.

The writer travelled as a guest of Viking Cruises.

Five more things to see and do

Sample village life
Muzeul Satului in Romania is an open-air museum where authentic dwellings from across the country have been relocated and reassembled.

Visit a UNESCO site
The rock-hewn Churches of Ivanovo in north-eastern Bulgaria are a complex of monolithic churches sculpted out of solid rock.

Inside Ivanovo, a rock-hewn church in Bulgaria.

Inside Ivanovo, a rock-hewn church in Bulgaria. Credit: iStock

Dig deep into history
At 8500 years old, the famous Serbian archaeological site at Lepenski vir represents one of Europe’s oldest settlements.

Marvel at the mansions
Once part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, Osijek, a city in eastern Croatia, has a delightful, Viennese style.

In the ghetto
A highlight of a Budapest walking tour of the Jewish Quarter, once the Budapest Ghetto, is the 19th-century Moorish-Revival Dohany Street Synagogue, the largest in Europe.

THE DETAILS

CRUISE
Viking Cruises’ 11-day “Passage to Eastern Europe” voyage from Bucharest to Budapest, or vice versa, starts from $7695 a person in a standard stateroom (based on double occupancy, valid on new bookings made until March 28, 2024, with conditions applying). The fare includes economy class flights and eight shore excursions. At the time of writing there were departures available between March and November, 2024, and April and November, 2025. See viking.com.au

FLY
Qatar Airways flies from Sydney and Melbourne to Bucharest or Budapest via its Doha, Qatar, hub. See qatarairways.com

MORE
visitmybulgaria.com
croatia.hr
visithungary.com
romaniatourism.com
serbia.travel

Sign up for the Traveller Deals newsletter

Get exclusive travel deals delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up now.

Most viewed on Traveller

Loading

Original URL: https://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/traveller/inspiration/to-explore-the-less-predictable-side-of-europe-this-is-the-way-to-do-it-20240110-p5ewcb.html