One of my favourite Robert Munsch stories was about a girl named Laura who liked to climb. Laura's parents were forever going about the house saying things like, "Laura? Laura? LAURA!! Get off of that refrigerator!" I felt a sort of kinship to the girl. Not only did we have the same name, but we shared a certain proclivity for ascending the sort of great heights our parents would have rather remained unascended. I don't remember now which came first - my love of that story or the delight I took in scaling the front hall stair railings from the outside when my mom wasn't watching.
I don't have many climbing opportunities these days, unless you count sitting on the windowsill of my fourth story apartment with a good book, some late afternoon sunshine, and one foot hanging out over the street. Most of my climbing is of the safe and conventional sort involving stairs or hiking paths. A few weeks ago, however, when I visited the old castle ruins at Dürnstein, a good climbing opportunity presented itself. And I am never one to pass up a good opportunity.
The route from Krems to Dürnstein was long and hot - much longer than it needed to be, since I took, shall we say, the scenic route. (How does one misplace a river? I don't know, but somehow I managed it.) But once I got into the vineyards, the view was exquisite.
I don't have many climbing opportunities these days, unless you count sitting on the windowsill of my fourth story apartment with a good book, some late afternoon sunshine, and one foot hanging out over the street. Most of my climbing is of the safe and conventional sort involving stairs or hiking paths. A few weeks ago, however, when I visited the old castle ruins at Dürnstein, a good climbing opportunity presented itself. And I am never one to pass up a good opportunity.
The route from Krems to Dürnstein was long and hot - much longer than it needed to be, since I took, shall we say, the scenic route. (How does one misplace a river? I don't know, but somehow I managed it.) But once I got into the vineyards, the view was exquisite.
Eventually, I rounded a corner and the town of Dürnstein appeared, with the Burgruin towering over it, up on the hill. I paid my respects to the town, wandering about in a vain search for the ancient Trinkwasser fountain that exists in every town in Austria except this one, apparently. Then I headed up the path to the castle.
Looking down over the Wachau valley... (and there's the Danube, that sneaky devil!)
Looking down over the Wachau valley... (and there's the Danube, that sneaky devil!)
And looking up at the Burgruin.
Now, the path up to the castle is fairly steep, but that's not the good climbing opportunity I was talking about.
This is the one. That would be me, sitting on the very tippy top of the highest bit of ruin, with all of Austria at my command. I'm part mountain goat, so I wasn't actually in any danger up there. Like I said, I am never one to pass up a good opportunity - especially when the payoff looks like this: