Our morning is spent scenic cruising. This morning we pass through the area which contains the narrowest part of the river, where the rocks on either side form a gorge just 150m apart. Some of the rock is ferrous, and hence this gorge is known as the Iron Gates Gorge.
Before that, we pass through Iron Gate Hydroelectric station, well of course we don’t go via the turbine hall, we use the lift, I mean lock, same difference. We start watching the manoeuvre from our cabin, before continuing whilst taking breakfast, which continues as we enter the second chamber and move into the Iron Gates Dam.
Then we are invited up to the deck as we start to enter the gorge, actually a 134km journey, of which we only sailed a portion. Our incredibly knowledgeable Program Director, Mishi, explains in fantastic detail many aspects of the river, historical, geological and mythical. He tells of folklore where young ladies sit in order to fall pregnant (we’ve heard this before elsewhere but I suppose there’s no limit to the franchise) and of battles fought, won and lost over the two thousand years at least.
The Romans used the Danube as a border of it’s extended territory for a long time, and a marker remains, the Tabula Triana where they actually bridged the river, an astonishing achievement which lasted 165 years, and would have held the bridge-record for another thousand if it had survived.
More recently as Germany was losing WWII they attempted to move over 200 ships from the Black Sea theatre towards Germany, under the protection of the Romanians, but unfortunately this was when they decided to change sides, so said Romanians then bombed and scuttled them all right in the area of the gorge, where it is at it’s deepest.
Right at the pinch point we find a very modern artwork, the rock sculpture of Decebalus, the last king of Dacia (motorists might recognise the name) who ruled Romania in Roman times and fought for independence against them. It took twelve sculptors ten years from 1994 to create on the face of a 55m high outcrop, financed by Romania’s first billionaire.
Moving on we wind our way on to Donji Milanovac, drawing up whilst we’re having lunch, and right after we join the boat’s complimentary walking tour which in this tiny town (pop 2000) is quite restricted – we first attend a choral rendition in the church, and then a Cyrillic lesson in the school. The choir is delightful, seven ladies and three men, we get a selection of religious songs.
Then we walk to the school half a block away, and our guide talks us through a few characters and their implications – it’s very simplistic but fascinating. Did you know, unexpectedly, that Cyrillic was not invented in Russia, as one might expect, but in Bulgaria by two brothers? We also meet three eighth graders, the equivalent of our year nine. They take questions, and answer, in English albeit with an American accent, so very impressive. Of course they have learned English since year three, and listen to English language songs and watch English language movies all the time.
Immediately after this, we split from the group and head off on our own into the Derdap National Park. I have a circuit planned which takes us up to 1300ft, along a ridge and then back down to the river. I throw in a slight curve-ball by aiming for a modest viewpoint en route. An excellent journey, we didn’t see another soul except for a lonely shepard tending his goats, who is too timid to wave back at us.
We return just in time to shower and dress for dinner, at least within the framework of what is needed to secure one of the five upstairs tables we really like, which requires planning and stealth.
I get on with writing, Hubby is chatting to fellow customers, and before long he goes through to listen to the “tomorrow” plans. Then dinner service commences.
Tonight we have no menu, it’s Balkan dinner, everyone is eating the same, and we start with plum schnapps, followed by strong local beer. Then a mountain of bread arrives, followed by a cheese platter, ham platter, mixed salad and mushroom soup. All four are excellent. White wine flows during this course.
Main course is a bit of an overkill (litterally) we have lamb skewer, chicken leg and thigh, beef stuffed cabbage and braised pork shoulder. Any one would probably have been enough. Red wine for this course, at least we get our choice.
When pudding arrives we joke with Andre our Brazilian waiter that it is for all five tables – nope we get mountains of coconut cake, cherry turnover, poppy seed cake and Turkish delight.
It’s enough to sink yet another German battleship, but we gallantly try our best before giving up and crawl back to our cabin.
