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Stalkin’ the Balkans Stalkin’ the Balkans It’s breakfast time, but I can’t smell the eggs Benedict. And where’s the cappuccino? Oh, that’s right. That was yesterday—and every morning on Viking River Cruises’ meander down the Danube. Today, I’m home—back to reality and time to start planning my next cruise, where I’ll again be treated like the goddess I was surely meant to be.  It’s breakfast time, but I can’t smell the eggs Benedict. And where’s the cappuccino? Oh, that’s right. That was yesterday—and every morning on Viking River Cruises’ meander down the Danube. Today, I’m home—back to reality and time to start planning my next cruise, where I’ll again be treated like the goddess I was surely meant to be.  Aboard the 160-passenger ship Ullur, perks included premier toiletries in the bathroom, where my toes rested on a heated floor. Swans swept past our balcony as we sailed down the Danube. Comfy chaises lined the sundeck, meals proved worthy of Michelin stars—including complimentary wine and beer, seguing into the evening entertainment in the lounge. It’s tempting to remain onboard 24/7—but not with the Balkans’ picturesque historic towns ready to welcome us via daily excursions. Aboard the 160-passenger ship Ullur, perks included premier toiletries in the bathroom, where my toes rested on a heated floor. Swans swept past our balcony as we sailed down the Danube. Comfy chaises lined the sundeck, meals proved worthy of Michelin stars—including complimentary wine and beer, seguing into the evening entertainment in the lounge. It’s tempting to remain onboard 24/7—but not with the Balkans’ picturesque historic towns ready to welcome us via daily excursions. We glided through five countries in 10 days. At every stop, locals welcomed the return of tourism to their COVID-besieged economies. Thorough daily testing onboard, vigilant cleaning and mask-wearing made us feel secure. We glided through five countries in 10 days. At every stop, locals welcomed the return of tourism to their COVID-besieged economies. Thorough daily testing onboard, vigilant cleaning and mask-wearing made us feel secure. First port of call: lively, lovely Budapest, whose mood is always vivace. As trams slithered past, we began our stroll on wide, tree-shaded Boulevard Andrassy, ogling its parade of upscale shops (Rolex, Gucci) and wedding-cake Opera House. But first, a stop at St. Stephen’s Cathedral, all tawny marble, to spy the relic of the saint’s own hand encased in a golden casket. First port of call: lively, lovely Budapest, whose mood is always vivace. As trams slithered past, we began our stroll on wide, tree-shaded Boulevard Andrassy, ogling its parade of upscale shops (Rolex, Gucci) and wedding-cake Opera House. But first, a stop at St. Stephen’s Cathedral, all tawny marble, to spy the relic of the saint’s own hand encased in a golden casket. Along Andrassy, a frontispiece of heavy chains marked the House of Terror, a museum documenting past repressive regimes (first the Nazis, then the Soviets) through oral accounts, newsreels and photos. A pleasanter detour took us past the Franz Liszt Music Academy clasped by the necklace of sidewalk cafes lining its leafy median. We paused to savor culinary icons straight out of grandma’s cookbook, like goulash and chicken paprikash alongside elegant temptations crowned by goose liver pâté.  Along Andrassy, a frontispiece of heavy chains marked the House of Terror, a museum documenting past repressive regimes (first the Nazis, then the Soviets) through oral accounts, newsreels and photos. A pleasanter detour took us past the Franz Liszt Music Academy clasped by the necklace of sidewalk cafes lining its leafy median. We paused to savor culinary icons straight out of grandma’s cookbook, like goulash and chicken paprikash alongside elegant temptations crowned by goose liver pâté.  In the Jewish Quarter, two synagogues (one, the largest in all of Europe) remain after the pogroms of the ’40s; both welcome visitors. Take a break at nearby Spinoza Café, offering klezmer performances accenting delicious kosher fare. But the Danube’s bank hosts a more somber note: a line of shoes, cast in bronze, where Nazis forced Jews to remove them before their execution in 1944. Nearby, postcard-pretty Parliament, the city’s most famous silhouette, is still pocked with the bullets of the short-lived 1969 revolution. In the Jewish Quarter, two synagogues (one, the largest in all of Europe) remain after the pogroms of the ’40s; both welcome visitors. Take a break at nearby Spinoza Café, offering klezmer performances accenting delicious kosher fare. But the Danube’s bank hosts a more somber note: a line of shoes, cast in bronze, where Nazis forced Jews to remove them before their execution in 1944. Nearby, postcard-pretty Parliament, the city’s most famous silhouette, is still pocked with the bullets of the short-lived 1969 revolution. Budapest’s famed Chain Bridge connects Pest to hilly Buda, crowned by the royal castle (open to tour), and Fishermen’s Bastion—a graceful arcade-cum-photo stop hugging a cliff—and aside it, Matthias Church, guarded by a statue of St. Stephen (arm intact). Its intricate painted ceiling is punctuated by Gothic plaster ribs. Budapest’s famed Chain Bridge connects Pest to hilly Buda, crowned by the royal castle (open to tour), and Fishermen’s Bastion—a graceful arcade-cum-photo stop hugging a cliff—and aside it, Matthias Church, guarded by a statue of St. Stephen (arm intact). Its intricate painted ceiling is punctuated by Gothic plaster ribs. We set sail after dinner (salmon, chateaubriand, local goulash: Take your choice). As we slipped under twinkling bridges and Parliament, all ablaze, the ship’s crew plied us with flutes of champagne. By morning, after the first of my daily jogs around the deck and a wave from the captain, we docked to visit Kalocsa, a medieval town set amidst sunflower fields, to enjoy an organ concert in its petite Baroque cathedral (surprise encore: “The Star Spangled Banner”). Next, a Hungarian-style rodeo starring some daredevil, whip-cracking riders and bored cattle; then a visit to an ancient fortress and 18th-century church, whose severe exterior gave way to blazing chandeliers and golden altar. We set sail after dinner (salmon, chateaubriand, local goulash: Take your choice). As we slipped under twinkling bridges and Parliament, all ablaze, the ship’s crew plied us with flutes of champagne. By morning, after the first of my daily jogs around the deck and a wave from the captain, we docked to visit Kalocsa, a medieval town set amidst sunflower fields, to enjoy an organ concert in its petite Baroque cathedral (surprise encore: “The Star Spangled Banner”). Next, a Hungarian-style rodeo starring some daredevil, whip-cracking riders and bored cattle; then a visit to an ancient fortress and 18th-century church, whose severe exterior gave way to blazing chandeliers and golden altar. By morning, we’d slid into Croatia, where we awakened in Vukovar, “the poorest city in the country,” our guide declared, pointing to the bullet holes that destroyed the town during the war with Serbia in the ’90s. Penetrating beyond the land’s more-visited seacoast cities, this river cruise reaches deep into the lives of real people. We enjoyed tea and cherry pastries at the home of Sara, 35, who spoke openly about the harsh war years, when once-neighborly Serbs destroyed the entire town. (We’d land in Serbia tomorrow and hear their side of the story.) By morning, we’d slid into Croatia, where we awakened in Vukovar, “the poorest city in the country,” our guide declared, pointing to the bullet holes that destroyed the town during the war with Serbia in the ’90s. Penetrating beyond the land’s more-visited seacoast cities, this river cruise reaches deep into the lives of real people. We enjoyed tea and cherry pastries at the home of Sara, 35, who spoke openly about the harsh war years, when once-neighborly Serbs destroyed the entire town. (We’d land in Serbia tomorrow and hear their side of the story.)

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