Friday, 23 September, Vidin, Bulgaria (Belogradchik Rocks & Fortress)

Written 6 October 2022

We cruised all night and docked at Vidin, Bulgaria, in the early morning. I was up early enough to explore a few of the many offerings on the TV in my stateroom. Here's what I found under "live TV": four news channels, the bow cam, and the lounge cam. I resolutely ignored the news channels, but I used the other two all the time. The lounge cam is trained on the piano in the lounge, so it lets you tune into the late evening music provided by George, the ship's Hungarian pianist, from the comfort of your own stateroom. You can also listen to the evening briefing from there.

But the bow cam is my favorite. Down in steerage, where our cheap staterooms are located, we have windows, at about shoulder height and maybe double-arms-length wide, but you have to stand up to look out, and they're often up against a wall when we're in port. But the bow cam looks straight ahead from the ship and makes a great substitute window. I usually keep it on whenever I'm in the cabin. The only drawback is that as I face my TV, I'm facing the stern of the ship, so it's endlessly disorienting to climb the stairs and find the ship moving in the opposite direction!

Of course, if you're bored and George isn't playing, or you don't like his music, you can tune to any number of other things, like a choice of about 40 movies (often chosen for their relevance to our itinerary), details of your own excursion bookings or on-board account, about a bazillion videos prepared by Viking (about its other cruises, destinations on our cruise, recipes from its chefs, etc.), a ship-tracker map on which you can check your ship's progress along your itinerary, and a dozen genres of music on demand.

In the right-hand photo is the mural at the top of the ship's central staircase, depicting Vidar, the ship's namesake. I guess that's him on the horse. According to the nearby label, Vidar avenges his father Odin's death and so is known as the god of loyalty.

Our excursion for the day was to the Belogradchik Rocks Fortress, so we disembarked in front of this handsome port building and boarded our buses as usual, Quietvoxes in hand.

On the way through Vidin, our guide started by warning us that the ATM at our destination takes a 20% commission, but that the ones in town and elsewhere are okay. She also pointed out the new Catholic cathedral under construction, which will be the largest in the area. From Celtic times until WWII, the area had been a prestigious one, but in the 45 years after the war, according to our guide, they've managed to produce (with a sweep of the arm) all this ugly architecture!

On the very scenic drive up the mountain to the fortress, she explained all the stages in the development of the names Danube and Vidin, but I didn't catch all of it.

At the top of the mountain we found limited bus parking, public restrooms, and about a dozen little shops and stalls selling honey, local wine, and handmade gifts, as well as the entrance to the Belogradchik Fortress. The photo at the right shows a diagram of the fortress. I walked all around the large, walled outer courtyard, but we didn't climb the zigzag stairs to the second-level walled enclosure, let alone the steep, intermittently hand-railed ones to the third. Those last are so steep that our guide recommended coming back down them backwards, as you would on a ladder.

Inside the walled enclosure, a local sculptor displayed his works for sale. He has an agreement with the guide—if you want to buy a piece but don't have the local currency (Bulgaria is not on the euro, and he doesn't take credit cards), the guide will put it in her bag. Back down in Vidin, where you can visit a nonexhorbitant ATM, you can pay her for the sculpture and take possession. She then pays the sculptor the next time she's up the mountain.

The guide also pointed out to us many of the rock formations that have been given whimsical names: Adam and Eve's first kiss, the head of the dog, an elephant, a cobra, Abraham Lincoln, etc.

The rocks have apparently been in several movies. According to the guide, the first was Vercingetorix (maybe the 1909 version?) and the most recent something called The Sniper with Billy Zane.

But why build the fortress here at all? In Roman times, merchant roads from the Danube ran through here (sort of a spur of the silk road). On these roads, every 35–37 miles, was an armed shelter where travelers could spend the night. Belogradchik was one of them. Whole caravans could be protected within the outer walled enclosure. That enclosure had a well, and the inner one at the top had cisterns to catch and store rain water. Later, the Romans ran an aquaduct to it. In foggy weather, which is apparently quite common around here, the garrison beat drums during the day and lit fires at night to help travelers find them. The garrison had small cannons, for firing down on the town, but down in the town were larger ones, for firing across the river.

It was said that so many national borders are near this spot that the roosters sang in three languages (and that they've now added a fourth—English).

On the way back to the boat, I saw one field of sunflowers still in bloom, and what might have been alfalfa. Here are things the guide told us during the ride.

• In the 20th century, 80% of Bulgaria is agricultural, it has very fertile soil.
• The founder of DHL was born in Vidin.
• The Bulgarian rennaissance was 200 years later than everybody else's.
• In the 18th century came the revival renaissance, the struggle to become independent.
• Bulgaria has three kinds of wild orchids, and only Spain rivals it for plant diversity.

Back on board in time for lunch, we were welcomed with tiny virgin tequila sunrises. About 4 pm, I spotted a cormorant flying by the ship, downstream, and some snow geese flew by while we were docked in Vidin.<\p>

In lieu of the elaborate appetizer buffet/salad bar that used to start lunch, they now offer two or three little prepared salads before the "starter course." Here are small caprese salad in a glass, garnished with a pea sprout; quinoa with mixed chopped cooked vegetables; and "salmon tartare," which was actually the smoked salmon served at breakfast, chopped and mixed with capers and lemon, then garnished with a slice of cherry tomato and a caper berry. Excellent.

I had spaghetti alla Neapolitana with meatballs for the main course but forgot to photograph it. Then peach melba for dessert—vanilla ice cream, a couple of slices of canned peach, whipped cream, and not quite enough raspberry sauce. Good piroulline cookie, though.

After lunch, they take the little decorative pots of rosemary off the dining tables and set them out on the terrace to get some sun, replacing them with vases of Protea for dinner.

At the left here is a shot I managed to get of the roof of one of the little vendor stands up at the rocks. Tile roofs are the norm here, and this seems to be a solid sheet of something (plastic? painted metal?) molded and colored to resemble a tile roof.

Bridges are sparse along the lower Danube, but here's part of a particularly handsome one we passed while cruising in the afternoon.

My starter at dinner was "kashkavel pane," fried Bulgarian cheese. It was okay, but it was just a lump of cheese, breaded and fried.

I didn't do a very good job of remembering to photograph the food, so at the right you see only the remains of my Norwegian salmon with lump crabmeat and white wine saffron sauce. It was really good, though.

At the left here is David's Tokay wine mousse and caramelized walnuts with Grand Marnier sabayon.And once again, only the cut-up remains of my dessert, which was a perfect, and perfectly delicious, cinnamon-brown-sugar baked apple.