Wonder What’s Up the Inn? Inn river that is. Leaving the Donu

A rainy, muddy last day on the Donau. We stopped at a ferry shelter to watch the rain on the brown river. We never did see a Blue Danube. But we did see the clear riffles and white rapids of the upper wilds and small villages, and then the silvered flats of the quiet reaches between corn, wheat and potato fields above the confluence with the powerful brown Inn. We will follow our curiosity tomorrow.
Passau divides the Donau and Inn rivers. I know. You’ve never heard of it. I had not either until a week or so ago when Claire found it and thought it might be more to our liking than following the increasingly tourist clogged river we found in Passou.Perhaps the most beautiful thing in Passou was the huge pipe organ in Saint Stephan cathedral. We didn’t get to hear it, as a cyclest who joined us in our rain shelter said we could, should, because we couldn’t learn the concert times.
But I did imagine the power in my chest as thundering Bach reverberated off the hundreds of angels painted and carved in the soaring space.And yet, each time I stand in awe at these huge fealties to a higher power, I can’t fully enjoy the experience, knowing the price of health and life given by the laborers probably in payment receiving a special place in Heaven, or perhaps free passage for their sins. At least they got to see tangible justification for their difficult existence. Not so with the two beggars we saw on the cobbles not fifty meters from the cathedral doors, hidden from the angels, and the young man in clerical atire, focused on his smartphone.If you need more inspiration than the organ and soaring interior of the cathedral, come back at night to see the facade painted in colored light. Now there is a spiritual experience.


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