I see now, as I think of it, that gold day of June, with the rippling
Danube under the breeze, and the sunshine glinting on the towers and
windows of Bratislava. I see the mists lifting towards midday, and the
ebb of humanity from the scorching decks to the _Speisesaal_, where the
wide-open windows are only an arm's length over the water. Everywhere,
like a seething tropical incense, is the tang of paprika; paprika
flavouring the soup: paprika stuffed with rice as an entrée; a slice of
paprika with the veal and a wedge with dessert; rust-brown paprika
pepper in all the cruets; golden Magyar wine and paprika--polyglot
chatter and flashing gold-filled teeth and paprika--Heavens, what a
meal--a strident C Major symphony of a meal.... And then the beat of the
engines suddenly hushed, and the boat gliding against some wayside
landing-place where all the local folk are gathered--red-bloused,
yellow-bloused peasant women and a _gendarmerie_ in blue.... Swift and
magical interlude--with the brown-skinned men, waist-naked, rowing in
the river, and the boatmen half-singing as they haul in the
gangway--"_Achtung_--_Achtung_...." Then off again into midstream,
chug-chugging under the porcelain blaze of the afternoon....
But at last, with tropic swiftness, the sun sinks low and dusk falls; it
is the grey Danube, and then the black Danube, with the forests rolling
down to the far edge of it. And the tang of paprika, lulled for a while,
is spreading and deepening again, until the boat is almost hushed with
it--as if the ghosts of all the lunches and dinners that have ever been
served on board have come back to haunt.... It is intolerable and
unforgettable, with the waiters slinking round and the bald heads,
glistening with sweat, and the clink of glasses, and the lights of Pesth
already aglow in the southern sky, and Terry lingering over his coffee
and telling me how pitiable it would be to interrupt his friendship with
Mizzi by marrying her....
All that comes back to me now, as I write, more clearly than I could
ever have believed.
VI
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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