We had signed up to see the Danube delta while anchored at Constanta, Romania. Extensive flat wheat farms, undulating rape fields, others with hundreds of wind turbines, then forests of linden and oak trees lined our route. Humble homes formed tiny villages. Lawns were non-existent; chickens, goats, corn stalk ricks, woodpiles and vegetable gardens used every inch of cluttered yards. Flowers still bloomed along fence lines. Donkeys stolidly pulled wooden carts along narrow, busy roads.
Eventually we could see branches of this “musical” river – which, we saw as we came closer and floated on it, is not blue. It is not even clean, but the swans didn’t seem to notice. Willow trees stabilise its banks, built up by the dredges which keep the channels open. Fishermen occupied every open spot, their garbage piling up. Of course, our small boat’s captain had fish (and eel) tales to tell. John spied a couple of long fishy bodies curving above the green-brown water; I saw only ripples. Huge spaces are filled with reeds, the life-blood of the birds and unseen animals that live within the swamp.
While in the Ukraine, we’d heard much about beaches, “playground for the rich”, summer resorts and such, but only when we approached our next stop, the island of Nessebar in Bulgaria, did we see such places, both on the island and the mainland beyond. No one was out and about on that chilly, damp day. Before I boarded the ship’s tender (one of its large lifeboats) to go ashore, a wee bird joined me for breakfast on the poolside deck.
“Nope, you can chirp prettily beside that door, but I won’t let you into the buffet!”
Our time in the Black Sea at an end, seagulls and the sounds of the faithful being called to prayer told us we had woken up in Istanbul, the ship being docked, as usual, in the dawn light. From minarets, now equipped with loud speakers, adorning hundreds of mosques on both sides of the strait, voices sang praises to God.
A few jellyfish floated around in silence. We toured later, absorbing the mood of this huge, bustling, upbeat city in warm sunshine, and visiting Sophia Mosque (now a museum). If the number of fisher-people bobbing around in small boats and lining Galata Bridge is any indication, putting fish on the dinner table is a popular pastime. Many ferries dashed back and forth across the narrow strait between Europe and Asia.
One last stop remained on this first 12-day part of our cruise, John opting for “a day off”. At Koper (Ljubjana) on part of Slovenia’s 47 km shoreline, the tour guide was younger than most and not afraid to say what he thought, in a most entertaining way. He was not impressed with a mayor who spent thousands of euros on (bl&*%$#) palm trees – most of which died in that cool climate. Olive groves and vineyards terraced onto hilly slopes and valleys, all in autumn dress, were one of the prettiest sights I had seen. My only wish was that John could have seen this too.
Leaving here for nearby Venice, we still had another 12 days of cruising ahead of us – and we looked forward to seeing more countries, experiencing the feeling of timelessness in this historical part of the world – and anything nature wanted to share with us along the way.
