xx Hungary

Ports of call! It's far at the world's end. Strange, fascinating lands beckon us. Bit us rebel and their exotic spenders. Come with us as we head for our Ports of call.

Flowing past the Carpathian Mountains, on its winding seabird journey, the Danube River pours a blue flood over the broad plains of Hungary. For more than a thousand years, this strange, low-lying kingdom has been the home of the Madyars, a war-like race who migrated to Europe from from eastern Asia. Sailing down the Danube, we see springs of long iron barges, chugging

river boats, all bearing the tri-coloured flag of Hungary. Ahead of us, spanning the river with graceful arches, are the bridges of Budapest. Budapest is in reality two cities. Buda lies on the western hillside. A black outline of domes and lacy spires emblazoned upon the flaming curtain of sky. On the flat east bank is pest. Its large hotels overlooking the curved river,

those gleaming like countless spangles in the golden twilight as night lowers glow worm lights appear on both shores a plaintive lilt of gypsy music floats over the drowsy river and we are taken back to the days of long ago when good King mouth is rude over hungry we find ourselves at a crowded tavern near the

royal palace at buddha it is the 15th century in keeper in keeper Ah, very such fool and king. One moment, sir. Who are you anyway? Hey, I am Holubar the Great. Holubar the mighty. You are a German?

I am a German who are you? My name is John Corvinus. Corvinus? That means crow, does it not? John Crow. You look like a crow, my friend. Hey, I am the greatest boy in all Europe.