Publisher’s Letter: A River Runs Through It – Vienna Events

My first home on the European continent was in Bratislava, Slovakia. The city was still run down in 1994, but as an 8-year-old ragamuffin, the chaos was fuel for the imagination. My brother and I climbed the cliffs along the banks of the Danube, playing pirates and burying treasures we’d gathered along the way. A few months in, my mother discovered a fish restaurant in the riverside borough of Devin where all the furnishings were made out driftwood and “artifacts” scoured om the river adorned the walls. The entire history of the region – ranging om the Black Forest in southern Germany to the Black Sea in Romania – was written on those walls, from the creepy washed-out faces of lost porcelain dolls to the tarnished golden fixtures of a 19th century spyglass. The proprietor…

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