Back through the River Valley for a fourth time, I remembered to shoot some of the spots I'd missed. This time from Vienna, through Prague, and onto Berlin. This shot captures my awed sense of history, which the soil of Europe is replete with.
This was an ordinary stop. I don't even remember the town - given that all of them were so post-card picturesque. What a wonder it would be to spend Christmas here. This stop was otherwise unremarkable but for this construction project that reveals a wall or foundation beneath its surface, (in center of photo, between the corrugated metal sheets). Its contruction, (stone size and arrangement) indicates significant age. When was this built? Was it a Foundation? A Wall? A large manor home? When was it in use? When did it fall into disrepair/disuse? With so much history, Europeans have the luxury of ignoring it.
Look at this yellow hotel, (probably formerly a manor home), up on a hill on the far side. How'd you like to spend a summer here? A Christmas?
Here are the cliffs, and the homes and hotels built into its side and in its shade.
And this is the only photo I have that captures the very ugly and very out-of-place Stalinist housing blocks and edifices. Mercifully, generally well outside the heart of the town or city, but generally also up above and in the hills, looming over it.
This is a particularly picturesque place where the River diverts. A meeting place and trading hub today, as it must have been for millenia.
I must have a beer in that pub on the right.