Exactly one month ago today, as I made my way west from Timişoara and Covasinţ, Romania, toward Fellbach, Germany, I paid a visit to the University of the Danube - Krems, in the beautiful city of Krems an der Donau, Austria.
I arrived about three in the afternoon a bit hungry, a bit thirsty, and dying for a rest room, so my first stop in Krems was at a cafe, where I enjoyed a delicious snack of apple strudel and coffee, along with a glass of water.
Snack eaten, I strolled into the city in search of a bank, for I had not a Euro to my name. I walked perhaps 500 meters through the heart of this quaint Danubian town.
In the street I met two young men on bicycles who gave me directions to the Arte Hotel, where I ended up spending two most comfortable nights.
This is the view through the glassed hallway looking toward the University, just across the street.
Turning to the rear of the hotel, one sees the view above.
The Piano
After a most interesting and productive series of meetings at the University, I walked down from the hotel to a pub called "Piano," sat at an outdoor table, and ordered a beer, and a bowl of chili (a dish Shirl had enjoyed on our past visit there). After not more than three minutes, a young fellow came along and sat one table away, facing my table, and also ordered a beer. I asked him, "Are you alone?" He replied, "For the time, yes. I am expecting my girlfriend after her meeting ends."
Naturally, I invited him to my table, which invitation he happily accepted. Introducing ourselves, I learned he was Vlad, from Iaşi, Romania. We ended up spending the evening in conversation (over, maybe, one or two more beers). The evening ended with a nightcap at the hotel, where he and his Romanian girlfriend, a young veterinarian whose professional meeting had brought them to Krems, were also staying.
The Motto
Are you in the least surprised that I should happen to befriend a Romanian couple in Krems, Austria? (If you are a faithful reader, of course you are not surprised.) Which reminds me that I have recently coined a new motto:
I arrived about three in the afternoon a bit hungry, a bit thirsty, and dying for a rest room, so my first stop in Krems was at a cafe, where I enjoyed a delicious snack of apple strudel and coffee, along with a glass of water.
Snack eaten, I strolled into the city in search of a bank, for I had not a Euro to my name. I walked perhaps 500 meters through the heart of this quaint Danubian town.
There is a statue of a man on his knees before a buxom beauty. |
Is he proposing? |
I believe the story has him begging for forgiveness. |
In the street I met two young men on bicycles who gave me directions to the Arte Hotel, where I ended up spending two most comfortable nights.
Shirl and I stayed here in 2010, and she well remembers the verdant hill just behind the hotel. |
Turning to the rear of the hotel, one sees the view above.
The Piano
After a most interesting and productive series of meetings at the University, I walked down from the hotel to a pub called "Piano," sat at an outdoor table, and ordered a beer, and a bowl of chili (a dish Shirl had enjoyed on our past visit there). After not more than three minutes, a young fellow came along and sat one table away, facing my table, and also ordered a beer. I asked him, "Are you alone?" He replied, "For the time, yes. I am expecting my girlfriend after her meeting ends."
Naturally, I invited him to my table, which invitation he happily accepted. Introducing ourselves, I learned he was Vlad, from Iaşi, Romania. We ended up spending the evening in conversation (over, maybe, one or two more beers). The evening ended with a nightcap at the hotel, where he and his Romanian girlfriend, a young veterinarian whose professional meeting had brought them to Krems, were also staying.
The Motto
Are you in the least surprised that I should happen to befriend a Romanian couple in Krems, Austria? (If you are a faithful reader, of course you are not surprised.) Which reminds me that I have recently coined a new motto:
Go where you want to go, see what you want to see, and never leave a roadside diner without having made a new friend. - D. C. McDougall, 2013