Il Danubio. Un viaggio controcorrente dal Mar Nero alla Foresta Nera

by Nick Thorpe, Roberta Cattano (Translator), Giulia Marich (Translator)

Il Danubio attraversa e collega l'Europa centrale e orientale interessando dieci Paesi: Romania, Ucraina, Moldavia, Bulgaria, Serbia, Croazia, Ungheria, Slovacchia, Austria e Germania. Nick Thorpe lo ha percorso per tutta la mia lunghezza, risalendo la corrente come fa lo storione, il pesce più antico e imponente di questo mitico fiume. Lo ha percorso a ritroso, al contrario di quanto hanno fatto i grandi viaggiatori danubiani, per guardarlo con occhi nuovi, quelli di chi proviene dall'Est. Thorpe - giornalista che ha passato gran parte della sua vita nell'Europa centrale - ci regala un'opera che travalica i confini di genere ponendosi a metà tra libro di viaggio, saggio e reportage giornalistico.

Genres: Travel, Nonfiction, History, Hungary, Germany, Romania, Memoir

388 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2013

Reviews

[Roger Norman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nick Thorpe journeyed up the Danube to write this book, commenting that all the other travellers and writers he met or heard of did it the other way, downstream. There’s something quirky about our author and guide, choosing to travel against the flow and then spending too long at the starting line, in the Dobragean marshland on the Black Sea coast, a muddy and windswept sort of spot with hardly anybody living there. The main characters here are the winged, the webbed and the finned, with the sturgeon at centre stage. There used to be an abundance of this fine big fish with its expensive eggs, and now there isn’t. As we continue upstream, the story of the sturgeon is never far away – monster specimens caught in the past, the problems (for fish) of dams built and river meanders made straight. By the time we get to Austria, the caviar is imported from Russia. The magnificent sturgeon becomes during the book a sort of symbol for the river itself: when the river is restored to full health, we feel, the sturgeon will be abundant once more.
If Thorpe wears an ecologist’s cap in the wetlands, he swops it for a historian’s hat in the dry, comfortable among Dacians and Thracians, Celts and Romans, Huns and Turks as well as the warring nations of the modern age. The histories start with an old pot at the museum or an inscription on the church wall or a fort overlooking a riverside town, then streak off into this era or that before returning to the river. ‘My river’, Thorpe is calling it at the end of the book. He loves its fish, fishermen, fishing boats and fish soup, its bush willows and black poplars, its swallows and sedge warblers, its gorges and marshes, and all of the history, art and poetry that belongs to it.
What a river to fall in love with! Close on three thousand kilometers long, with seven riverine nations, four capital cities (Belgrade, Budapest, Bratislava,Vienna) with Bucharest and Zagreb a stone’s throw away, for centuries the main east-west artery for the carriage of gold, salt, iron ore, grain and, according to one archaeologist, once home to the prehistoric civilization that gave birth to the legend of Atlantis.
By boat, by bike, by car and on foot, Thorpe makes his way northward and westward, talking to everyone and listening to their stories. Seeing a line of women harvesting paprika in a Serbian field, he does what few others would do and hops over to have a word. How do you know when paprika is ripe … why are some of them different colours … what do you like about this work? The answer to the last question is splendid: ‘The work itself! Whoever likes to work finds their pleasure in it. Those who don’t like labour won’t find pleasure in anything, anyway.’ The homespun philosophy recalls the old humanitarian-socialist viewpoint that underpins the whole book. It’s this that makes the communist period a tragedy rather than simply a foreign invasion.
Thorpe was based in Hungary and working in Eastern Europe during the violent dissolution of Yugoslavia, writing for London newspapers and reporting for the BBC. Recollections of that time surface here and there in The Danube – entering a Belgrade restaurant with John Simpson in July 1999, to be greeted by the shouted remark from the corner table: ‘Simpson is here. War is inevitable!’, or coming to nocturnal roadblocks where drinking too much plum brandy with the armed guards was an obligatory rite of passage for journalists. Thorpe was also in the Balkans during the last years of the communist tyrannies, characterized by the same ‘lock-jawed brutality’ as the Nazis. Attempting to get an interview with Ceaucescu in 1988, he is told by the Romanian press secretary in Belgrade: ‘The President is not in the habit of granting interviews in a cell at Otopeni airport. Because that is as far as you will get if you ever try to visit our country again.’
Throughout the book, there’s a sense of relief and optimism at the demise of the Eastern Bloc, tempered with an unease at what’s replaced it – the greedy excesses of private enterprise, the gentrification of earthy working-class areas, the madcap scheme that the young Slovakia inherited from the Czechoslovak communists to re-route the Danube. The two huge dams, the 30 km stretch of newly-engineered canal and the vast electricity-generating programme became a prestige project for the Slovakian government-to-be, despite the warnings of their own scientists of the impact on the river’s ‘vast underwater aquifer’ that had taken thousands of years to form. In October 1992, the river was duly diverted. ‘In a matter of days, the great bed of the Danube, or rather the labyrinth of beds through which it flowed, dried up.’ The full repercussions of this act, it seems, are yet to be properly understood.
By the time this episode is recounted, the reader is likely to have learned from the writer a respectful affection for the greatest of European rivers. If not quite a Nile (which is well over twice as long), it’s a Ganges certainly, one of those broad and ancient arteries around which the populous world has based its settled occupations and beliefs. In the introduction, referring to the completion of his two thousand, seven hundred kilometer journey, he writes: ‘I now carry the whole river within me.’ You might detect a hint of hyperbole here, until you see for yourself the very personal nature of Thorpe’s travels and his account of them. The sound of birdsong plays as great a role as the clash of arms, there’s more ecological concern than political comment, as much poetry as commerce. We become accustomed to rising early with this traveller, climbing a hill to get another view of the river or explore an ancient site, enjoying a morning dip in a too-strong current, boarding another ferry and knowing that we’re going to hear the ferryman’s life story.
There’s evidence of a real skill at work to get so many people to talk freely and enagagingly about their lives. Some are museum curators or field ecologists or boat captains, some are blown in by fierce winds from Chechnya or Bosnia, a few are immigrants from Turkey, including the likeable tailor of Ulm (‘We Alter and Repair All Items’), who was distracted by other customers while sewing a crucial button on Thorpe’s trousers, sat him down, drew the curtain on him and forgot him. How long did he sit politely waiting? One hour, two? Our writer is a patient, unhurried, courteous guide, leading us through the complexities of the river’s commerce, the campaigns of the Roman legions, the conjectures of archaeologists about the Vinça culture, the nature of the Ottoman regime, and the affiliations and hostilities of a region with more than its share of political turbulence. There’s always time for a fish soup (complete with recipe), a beer in the sunshine, a driftwood fire on the river bank, or a chat with the forgetful tailor of Ulm.

[Tilda · Rating 3 out of 5]

A charming book of vignettes from people living and loving the Danube river. My parents grew up alongside the Danube in Paks, Hungary and this book enlivened lots of lovely memories of my time back in their hometown as a kid swimming across the river for the first time through to broody adolescence having cheeky cigarettes with friends on the riverbank.

It's always hard to get the right balance between showcasing your research, personalising your travel experiences and reflecting the voices of the people you meet along the way, but I thought Thorpe did a reasonably good job. I did crave a little more insight into who he was as a person; why the Danube fascinates him and what led to him living the majority of his life in Hungary. But, an enjoyable read.

[Laurie · Rating 4 out of 5]

When this author referenced in his introduction that one of my favorite books of all time; The Black Sea by Neal Ascherson is a great inspiration, I knew that I was either in for quiet a treat or a big disappointment. Thankfully it's a treat. Nick Thorpe, BBC correspondent and long time Budapest resident, brings his genuine curiosity as well as interviewing and investigative skills along on his multifaceted exploration of the Danube River, the countries and regions through which it flows. Unlike many Danube River travelers, Thorpe travels up river, from the Black Sea to the source. He takes this route consciously to emphasize how Europe was 'civilized' in pre-historic times from east to west as well as to explore the steady procession of migrants throughout history to today. With special emphasis on river ecology and wildlife, The Danube: A Journey Upriver from the Black Sea to the Black Forest is worthy of your time if you are interested in the history and present of the Danube River regions.

[Linda Leeson · Rating 5 out of 5]

The true test of a travel book is whether it makes you mentally pack your suitcase and begin plotting your itinerary. This book does that in spades. Thorpe has lived in the area long enough to know its subtleties but still brings a stranger's eye. He travels upriver rather than down to saturate himself in the history from oldest to most recent. His side trips through history introduced me to bridge builders, architects and sculptors I had never heard of but am now delighted to know. Above all, he loves the Danube as a living thing--endangered by grandiose dams and plans but loved tenderly as a living entity by many of the people who live by it. Well worth the time.

[Massimiliano · Rating 3 out of 5]

Le parti interessanti del viaggio rimangono un po’ trattate con superficialità, mentre allo stesso tempo sezioni meno interessanti hanno fin troppo spazio.
Rimane migliore Danubio di Magris, nonostante anche questo ti faccia sentire di aver esplorato tutti i luoghi lungo il fiume mitico.

[Kuszma · Rating 4 out of 5]

Az útikönyvek nagyjából két dolgon állnak, avagy buknak: hogy izgalmas helyre kalauzolnak-e el minket, illetve hogy izgalmas író kalauzol-e minket. Ami az első követelményt illeti, nincs semmi bibi, hisz a Duna a mi szimbolikus folyónk, keletet és nyugatot összekötő folyosó erős magyar vonatkozással, ismerős és mégis ismeretlen, erre bőven rá lehet építeni pár száz oldalt. Thorpe-pal sincs gond, jegyzett újságíró, nála szakmai követelmény, hogy jól írjon. Ráadásul szimpatikus ürge is, empatikus, fogékony a külső benyomásokra (ez se árt, ha újságíró valaki), jól egyensúlyoz prózájában a személyesség és a tényszerűség között, mer és tud anekdotázni – az a fajta manus, aki mellé az ember szívesen beülne egy vonatfülkébe egy hosszú, hosszú vonatúton, hogy ha véletlen elfogyna az olvasnivaló, elcseverésszenek kicsit. (De amíg nem fogy el – addig néma csönd!)

Csak hát azért mégse tökéletes. Thorpe-nak tagadhatatlanul van olyan rendező elve, amire fel tudja fűzni utazásának legtöbb elemét – mégpedig az ökológiai gondolat. Látszik rajta, mennyire aggódik a folyó ökoszisztémájáért, és meg is tudja értetni az olvasóval, hogy aggodalma jogos. Ez tehát rendben van, és rendben vannak szociológiai miniriportjai is, amiket azoktól csipeget össze, akikkel úton-útfélen találkozott. Ám hiányzik valami. Annyi minden eszembe jutott olvasás közben, annyi téma, amiről jó lett volna beszélgetni Thorpe-pal – például hogy nem olyan-e felfelé csorogni a Dunán, mint időutazást tenni Európa múltjából a jövője felé? Nem olyan-e ez a folyó, mint egy kötél, ami szétszakíthatatlanul köti össze ezt a múltat és jövőt, és egyben az elütő világértelmezéseket is? Ilyesmikről, na. De ezek a kérdések bennem maradtak. Szóval jó volt, persze, jó volt, csak azt hiszem, Thorpe jóval többet kapott ettől az utazástól, mint amennyit át tudott adni belőle nekem.

[Aadisht · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the third of three books vaguely about the Danube which I wishlisted three years ago, but while I read the first two: Danubia: A Personal History of Habsburg Europe and Blue River, Black Sea back then itself, I only got to this one now.

Major differences: Danubia is pure Habsburg history, and Blue River, Black Sea is a little too "access journalism". This book, though, is written by a BBC environment and war correspondent. And it is very nice to read. It goes into environmental issues about river dams, nuclear plants, and what not (I learned so much about how to make dam bypassing channels so that fish can continue to travel upriver - you have to create a channel parallel to the dam, but one that meanders a lot and collects gravel so that fish can lay their eggs and also not be killed by fast currents). Oh, and there are a lot of very interesting bits about pre-Bronze Age civilisations in the Danube delta, and how civilization spread westwards from there.

[Erik B.K.K. · Rating 3 out of 5]

The first chapters are considerably more interesting: Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia. Germany gets a raw deal. Thorpe is not an original writer - sometimes using cliché language like the unnecessary gendering of the Danube as male when it is massive, female when it is meek, at one point confusing transvestites with transsexuals, and taking a stab at being a historian that results at times in Wikipedia-like dry expositions. Skims over Roma issues, barely touches the hate between Serbs and _____ (fill in any other ex-Yugoslavian country), which I didn't expect from a journalist who was a reporter in the Balkan wars.
But the matter of the Danube is interesting enough, and Thorpe meets some interesting people. I went and looked up so many places, and now I want to go travel the Danube myself once. 3 stars.

[Shawn · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is now the third book I’ve read that was suggested by the tour group Backroads as recommended reading for their excursion from Prague to Budapest. Surprisingly, this book bears very little direct relevance to the specific geography of the Backroads trip for which it was recommended. My guess is that some trip planner may have simply googled for books pertinent to the Danube, as opposed to having actually read the books. Of course, that’s the beauty of Goodreads, right? So one might do a little research into a book before investing their time into reading the whole thing.

I could only recommend this book to a reader primarily interested in the eastern sections of the Danube, as this author begins at its confluence with the Black Sea and proceeds upriver. This book is well supplemented with nice, detailed maps that allow the reader to follow the author’s wanderings. It is also fairly well written, although the subject matter consists only of fleeting, random encounters the author makes during his travels. I suppose, if one is predisposed to following a river, then one must adapt to such flow. But rivers always lead somewhere and this author neglects to grant us the conclusions derived from his journey.

This book focuses a lot upon the environmental degradation that has occurred along the Danube as well as the historical ravages of political and religious warfare. These sections of Europe have been war-torn for hundreds of years because of religious aggression and monarchies seeking to expand their spheres of influence. The area’s history consists of varying dominance between Hapsburg, French, Russian, and Ottoman rulers utilizing their Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant, or Islamic religions for the purposes of inciting people into war.

Instead of being the church, the peoples of this region, and the entire earth for that matter, become factionalized by governments that are led by power-hungry individuals seeking dominance over broader geographies, often just to appease their ego or build their personal wealth. And all of them have historically used religion to incite populaces into violence. The religions of these political subdivisions, particularly in historic times, were touted and waved about like mascots for a football team, motivating the indoctrinated factions of the earth’s populations to become fans of their particular team. And just like in American football, there were typically the same teams dominating the top four: Orthodox, Protestant, Catholic or Muslim. And such conflicts were actually encouraged by the domineering monarchs, and in many instances by the Pope himself.

The divisiveness between these religions became more and more complicated as they segregated themselves by doctrines, specific rituals, and arbitrary rules of administration or compliance. The peoples of the earth must mature sufficiently to throw off the yoke of their religions and their politicians to embrace the simple dictum to love God and to love one another, no matter what, such that wars, destruction, and exploitation become a thing of the past.

The peoples of the world harbor no hate for one another. Racism is largely a product of propaganda and political hate that has been indoctrinated into social systems. Exploitation is a product of social systems that promote pathological accumulation into its population for maximizing the productiveness of the state. Slavery is a product of social systems that have sacrificed the integrity of human beings in the pathological quest for more and more product. Populations can only gain relief through passive resistance: a refusal to go to war, a refusal to live in a perpetual work-spend existence, and, most importantly, a refusal to hate others. The propagandistic news services ferment divisiveness by constantly manufacturing enemies for us: liberals vs conservatives, blacks vs whites, rich vs poor, gay vs straight, etc. And even more frightening, the state news is always warning us of rising foreign aggression, nurturing fear in everyone by vilifying other countries.

The evils of government can only subside when people learn to better govern themselves: to actively assist those in need, to clean, to organize, and to pursue productive activities that are fueled by the passions and particular skills most conducive to one’s genetic composition. The homeless man who lays down and gives up is just as guilty as the wealthy hoarder. Everyone must gain a sense of commitment to the advancement of humanity as a whole. This is what we all must come to believe in, and this simple worldview must take precedence over every other form of doctrine, ritual, exclusiveness, nationalism, or other divisiveness that thwarts the unification of the human species in love. Love must be our God. Love must be our religion. God is Love.

Perhaps even more resistant than propaganda to the profession of love is the horrible substance abuse that permeates our populations. The peoples of the earth must learn that what they ingest deeply affects their health and their state of wellbeing. Corporations design foodstuffs, drinks, cigarettes, and other consumables in a way to promote and encourage addiction, just to sustain the consumers purchase activities. We must demand food purity, even if it means consuming only fresh produce. We must repudiate drug addiction, alcoholism, or enslavement to any substance. We must educate one another about the horrors of substance abuse and not tempt one another into the ravages of addiction, which often occurs due to destitute circumstances or boredom.

We must arrest our boredom in love for ourselves and for one another, which is true love. This motive in living will restrain us from engaging in activities that thwart the well-being of others or disable our capacity to love. Understanding this is the conversion experience we need to establish on earth, in place of the arcane doctrines that promise a mythological war that will become self-fulfilling if we all believe it. The kingdom we all seek is found in love for one another and nowhere else, not in any particular social system, not in nationalism, not in denominationalism, and certainly not in war of any kind.

Our theology needs to be simplified in love for one another so that the resources of the world may be deployed for goodness, not evil. To that end, we must embrace one another in loving relationships, forsaking pathological accumulation, power-mongering, exploitation, war, and any form of destructive activity that opposes love. Love must become the universal religion. Our worship experience must become the practice of love.

Just as this author makes a journey upriver along the Danube, everyone eventually discovers they are on their own journey in life. What we have yet to realize is that our journeys are collective. That’s why the word journey includes the word “our”. Our journey is to cast a new light on our world and to rise like the sun out of the shadows of self-destruction. Just as the Danube eventually spills into the expanse of the Black Sea, so the journey of humanity must begin to spill out of the dark recesses of narrow streams into the broad light of unified love.

Even though this book isn’t directly about what my review conveys, this is nevertheless what I’ve derived from reading about the war-torn, environmentally degraded, and fractionalized regions of Eastern Europe. This review is, in my mind, the conclusion this author neglected to include.

-End-

[Richard · Rating 5 out of 5]

This summer after many years away, I returned to Europe by doing a bike ride along the Moselle River; it was a most excellent vacation, and got me started thinking about other rides in Europe. I found this book listed on a web site as a good guide about cycling the Danube. Proved to be an excellent guide about the Danube, but not much about cycling it. Full of history, excellent descriptions of places to see, and people to meet along the river.

[Mason · Rating 2 out of 5]

A rather straightforward account of the "other" journey upriver from east to west. Thorpe lacks the humor and wit of a seasoned travel writer, relying on history and cultural commentary to keep the reader interested in his meandering journey.

[Rob · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love a good travelogue. And a beautiful dust jacket to boot!

[Chuck Barton · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting book, but episodic. The journal of the travel up the Danube seems disjointed as a narrative. The author meets some interesting people and visits some interesting places. But each story seems to stand alone and often the stories lack context. Nevertheless there are interesting vignettes, both historical and contemporary. Still Tony Horowitz "Blue Latitudes" or "A Voyage Long and Strange" are superior reading for connecting history with the contemporary.

Compounding the episodic writing, which makes the narrative disjointed, the author seems to long for a return to a primeval Danube when the river could overflow its banks randomly, where hydroelectric power does not disrupt the fishing, where nuclear power does not heat the water, and river cruises do not disrupt the idyllic village life of farmers and fisherman.

This book was on a recommended list for a Smithsonian sponsored Danube River cruise. The book does provide background, but I have gotten more and better history from a podcast on Bulgarian history, localized as it is, and from podcasts on the history of the Habsburg and the Austro-Hungarian empire.

[Nathan Thomas · Rating 3 out of 5]

The book flowed across my ears like the Danube flows across the landscape of Europe. Nick Thorpe shares a series of anecdotes of his journey along the river. He describes how the river connects the people, pollution, nature, cultures, and landscape. I have watched the river flow past my apartment for three years, traveled to its source, and imagined the path of the water as it snakes close to three thousand kilometers along towards the Black Sea. Thorpe focuses on the east, a nice change from the western focus of many books. The book is a travelogue. For me the book will flow from my mind leaving only the voices, sounds, and emotions that my guide shared with me through this audiobook. A more substantive book covering all aspects of the Danube would be a tall and likely impossible task. Overall, an enjoyable read, but perhaps I would enjoy more substantive books on the different aspects of this great river.

[Simon Parker · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nick Thorpe is a confident, inquisitive and humain traveller, who, on his 2,538 km journey from the Black Sea to the Black Forest finds a plethora of interesting people to speak to: from park rangers to museum curators and from refugees to priests and imams. Reading the book on my iPhone, I was almost constantly tracing his route on Google Maps and noting places I'd like to visit myself.

I particularly enjoyed the way he tackles the big historical themes, looking at the Danube as both a frontier and connector of the nations that make up 'Mitteleuropa'.

Environmental concerns are also addressed, such as the damming of the river, which especially in Romania and Slovakia, really made me question how 'green' hydro power really is and, at time times feel rather angry.

Overall, I enjoyed reading this tour de force of a travelog.

[Monica · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's a bit hard to rate this book: the author has clearly put a lot of time and research into it - and yet I'm not thrilled. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that I was looking forward to starting this book because I myself will be following a part of the Danube next spring. (Germany to Iron Gate) However, this book did not bring me any rejoice in the first 2/3 part, as I found it a bit depressing. Although other topics are also covered, the emphasis is on economic and social problems; environmental pollution; and animal suffering - not necessarily topics that make me happy. The part from Hungary, where the author gets on a bicycle, is less heavy and more personal (but unfortunately he has a serious accident). All in all, a great book with a lot of information, but I missed a touch of lightness and humour.

[Tanya · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this book in preparation for a Danube cruise I will be taking in the fall. Knowing I would be visiting the region gave me a reason to study the maps and pay close attention to each city Nick Thorpe stopped in on his journey upriver. Otherwise... I would have been bored to tears. Instead of focusing on the big things, the main cities, something I may have even heard about before, he spent the bulk of his time on obscure topics and smaller towns along the route. I still gained benefit from the book, particularly a greater orientation of exactly how the Danube meanders through Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia, Croatia, Hungary, Slovakia, and Austria (and Germany, though we get off the boat before it gets there...)

I was definitely hoping for more that would give background about the places I'll actually be visiting.

[Colin Baumgartner · Rating 3 out of 5]

It was refreshing to have this travel story written from the perspective of someone who lives immersed in the Eastern mentality of Europe. The author lives in Budapest and seems to have built a great affinity for Eastern Europe. He writes knowledgeably about Hungary, Poland, Romania, &c. This was refreshing.

Most travel stories about the Danube seem to involve travel through more developed Central European countries (usually ending in Wien or Budapest at the latest).

The connection between history, story, life, and the river are beautifully tied together.

A lovely and intimate account of the towns and countries that are so intimately tied to the river.

[Michaela · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this book in part because of its age (published 2013). I'd characterize it as a love letter to the resilience of a river and its people - especially its immigrants.

Was heart-warmed by the people who are trying to restore the river, its fish, and ecosystems as well as the people just trying to survive.

As an American, I wasn't aware the Germans began to pull back from nuclear power post- Fukushima.

Having traveled in part of the area, I loved little details like learning Melk means slow river and Hall was Celtic for salt. And I was very touched by, "The German-speaking peoples always understood trees", for personal reasons.

[Eyjolfur · Rating 2 out of 5]

The author's journey suggests an interesting book (hence two stars), but I gave up reading the book two chapters in because of the style of writing. Endless (bad) similes! As an example, the author at one point likens trees on the bank of the Danube with "teenagers trying to get into a party." If you don't mind an endless stream of these, then this book might be for you. It's a shame, because the topic sounds like it could be interesting.

[Agnes]

Iniziato con entusiasmo e, per il momento, sospeso; non mi coinvolge assolutamente com’era successo con Tempo di regali e non esiste confronto con Danubio, per i miei gusti.

[Serendipity · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting account of the people and places that border the Danube - the past, the present and the future. An informative and sympathetic - but not overly so - look at a part of the world I knew little about. Would have liked more maps and more photos, preferably colour and integrated with the text.

[Matteo · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not what I expected from the book, or at least what I had hoped for.

With the exception of Romania, there is very little that makes this feel like a travel book. It is full of historical, cultural, and environmental references, but the sense of travel fades as the author progresses its “journey” leaving only vague impressions of places.. The journey itself is almost entirely missing.

[Jason · Rating 3 out of 5]

It wasn't bad, but it felt like many historical travel narratives - kind of a shotgun approach to everything, and a lot of the stuff doesn't stick. I liked it, but at times it felt a little too hodge-podge.

[Pak455 · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ciekawy temat, ciekawe kontakty, dobry pomysl. Tylko ten styl... Jeden temat przelewa sie w drugi, oddzielony slabo wyroznionym w tekscie akapitem, wiele kwestie podjetych, ale potraktowanych pobieznie... Dlatego tylko 3/5.

[M P Foster · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this in the idea that it would be as enlightening and as engaging as Claudio Magris: Danube. More contemporary insights on current or recent politics which was interesting but not got the verve nor historicity of Magris.

[Massimiliano Milic · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading this book means travelling with your mind along the Danube and wondering how beautiful would be to start a trip like the one made by Thorpe.

The essence of life is exploring and listening the people and the nature, like Thorpe did.

[Marty · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting historical anecdotes and personal stories of people and places along the Danube. Would be much more interesting if there were images to illustrate the stories. I found myself constantly looking them up.

[William · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lots of history but relatively boring personal impressions.

[Aileen · Rating 1 out of 5]

Very drawn out and I lost interest. Abandoned