Approaching Walhalla. The Danube. Near Regensburg, Germany.


At Schengen they told me that my ship had sailed. It had become the MS Regensburg and made pleasure trips to The Walhalla Memorial, a grand hall filled with busts of remarkable Germans that stands above the Danube near the city for which it is now named. 



Towards the border with Austria. Passau, Germany. (Silver gelatin print)


Some of those who had fled Syria and elsewhere in previous months and crossed into Germany in their thousands at nearby Passau remained in Regensburg, congregating in the train station and in the squares of the old town, but on our boat you would be none the wiser. I got talking to Martha, from Canada, who told me she was mostly keen to see the busts of Wagner and Bach and that after Regensburg she and her husband would make a road trip in their honour and would visit Leipzig and Bayreuth before staying with their daughter at her home in Berlin. As we disembarked and joined the many others congregating at the foot of the hill, with Walhalla just above us and in reach, I told Martha of our boat’s previous life as the Princesse Marie-Astrid, and of its claim to fame, and she suggested that perhaps it had come home.

 

 



 


Ines. (C-Type print)