Off The Elbe And Across Fresh Borders

Today we're wending our way by coach from Prague, in the Czech Republic, to Krakow, Poland. The remainder of the tour is over new terrain for me, and I'm particularly looking forward to learning about Poland. Some observations, however, from the past few days:

-- The river cruise up the Elbe, which covered about a week, was delightful. Although we would have enjoyed more daylight cruising time, the experience onboard was fun. The countryside varied dramatically, from pastoral grazings to flat farmlands to tall terraced vineyards to urban piers. Through it all, the service was superb, and the cuisine exceptional. It was hard to waddle our way off the ship after one week, but they were insistent that we leave. In the evenings, the crew offered a variety of relaxing entertainment, including the captain taking the stage for a more than passable vocal set. The farewell dinner found all five of our group invited to the Captain's Table, no doubt due to the total number of trips we've all taken with this company. We entered the dining room, in a processional led by the captain, to the applause of the other guests. Embarrassing, but entirely deserving.

-- Dresden became one of my favorite stops on this trip. So much of the architecture represents the highly ornate baroque style. It reminded me of the reconstructed Vienna. But, of course, all of Dresden has been reconstructed to its original form. Every building in the city, from its cathedrals and palaces to the smallest shops, was recreated post-1945 from original plans, as all of Dresden was destroyed in one night of intense firebombing. Our local guide, a childhood survivor of the bombing and years of infrastructure repair, wondered why the British-led air attack against many non-military targets was necessary. Brits would have reminded her of the endless London Blitz and Coventry. How to rationalize any of this?


-- There were many, and I mean many, things to do and see in Dresden, which calls for a more leisurely return visit. The favorite portion of our stay was a tour of the museums dedicated to Saxony royalty, particularly Auguste the Strong, an 18th C. ruler alleged to have fathered some 300 illegitimate offspring. (It's good to be king, although he might have been better-named Auguste the Hard.) His treasury room displayed wealth beyond comprehension, in the form of enormous precious stones, ivory sculptures, jewel-embedded carvings and sculptures. The potentates of that time (or any time, for that matter) amassed fortunes from the toils of their peasant class on a scale that defies contemporary comparison.

-- Bad Schandau is an area in Swiss Saxony (still Germany) not far from the border with the Czech Republic. We stopped in what can only be described as the most typical, picturesque German village: quaint town square with baroque Lutheran church; vendors and small shops offering townspeople their daily supply of breads, produce, meats and cheeses; town hall and its requisite clock tower, containing an inn that offers the local brew; and, a castle perched just above this poster-ready scene, where once a baron ruled, but only a few years ago was the site of mass medical experimentation on 15,000 helpless non-Aryians, during which time the pastoral residents claim they were oblivious. Small multicolored crosses inked into the pavement are stretched in long lines throughout the village to commemorate each of these horrendous deaths.


-- Prague, the scenic capital of the Czech Republic, is worth a lengthy stay. It was fun to revisit the beautiful main square, where its central church, resembling Cinderella's castle in Disneyland, is bathed in pastel lights through the night. Dinner at a small local restaurant was outstanding: glazed duck over red cabbage and potato dumplings. Earlier, I returned to the Jewish sector of the city, site of the former ghetto. Here, only a few thousand of the surviving community remain. Several of the remaining synagogues have been refashioned into memorials. The most memorable is the synagogue whose interior walls have been converted to a registry, listing in precise calligraphy the names of each Jewish man, woman and child of Prague who perished in the Holocaust. These 80,000 names are quietly recited every day.

Next: Krakow and Warsaw.