CHAPTER 3: Indulging in the Horrid Graces of Nature

Prince was a headstrong fairy-tale castle chaser and Bass was a dreamy, yet obdurate idealist demanding precise details of everything about sound. They were not the only two.  There was a stubborn pride inherited in each and every magical creature on earth.

“Hold on to it even the world does not make sense for now, and we will be where we wanted to be.”

Bass the Flying Tutor

After hours on the InterCity Express train and the last thirty minutes or so on the regional train, the girl felt dizzy and nauseous due to the prancing motion and the prolonged rattling noise.

“Young Gia,” growled Bass, “come quickly!”

The girl heard Bass calling and tried to stifle a yawn, but to no avail.

She suspected that she would meet more magical creatures whenever she came to a train station she had not been to before.  It was not true, but it happened nonetheless for the third time at the Kurort Rathen Bahnhof in the middle of the Saxon Switzerland National Park.

Prince and Bass exclaimed in delight at the steep, rugged, towering rocks on the other side of the Elbe River.  They joined hands with Don in a small circle and rejoiced.

Contrary to her expectations for quirky beasties, Don looked exactly like a dog, and in fact, he was a husky, except walking only on his two hind legs.  His denim pocket was a fashion-meets-function feature of his beastie character.

“We were on the same train, Young Gia,” chuckled Don, “you just didn’t notice me until now.”

The Bastei massif was in the defensive ring of the rock castle Felsenburg Neurathen.  It was believed that water erosion had contributed to the creation of the jagged rocks of the Bastei over a million years ago.

The group took the ferry across the river.  Then the girl counted every step as she ascended slowly up the Elbe Sandstone Mountains of Germany.  The sweeping view of the Elbe River was an awe-inspiring sight.  She wondered what beautiful galleries and luxurious royal apartments were hiding inside the ring.

Just less than five hundred steps, the group reached the seventy-six-metre-long Basteibrücke bridging the Bastei and the Felsenburg Neurathen.

“The castle is not here anymore,” stated the girl, implying their time and effort were futile.

Prince knew best.  The treasures were not there anymore.

Some timber rebates survived the big fire.  The rooms carved out of the rocks came into sight as they went around the paved trail.  The views to the rocks were stunning, but no opulent reception rooms were in view.  The ruins of the medieval castle, forming an open-air museum, allowed them to experience the spatial organisation.

“Did you see faces in the rocks?” Don opened his mouth lightly, surprised.

The girl was observing the conversation among the rocks.

“I thought I saw their lips trembling,” Bass blinked in astonishment as he said in a low voice, “they were talking to each other!”

“Very figurative,” whispered back Prince, “it’s a work of art by Nature.”

They all enjoyed the swirling colours of the wind, ignoring the hassle of the tourists around them.

After a long while, Don broke the solitude and challenged Prince, “Shall we race to the Basteibrücke?”

“The champion shall be rewarded with a scope of ice cream,” Prince could not take his mind off the ice cream menu advertised outside the half-timbered village café on the way to the Bastei.

“But it’s not fair as you have wings to fly over the rugged rocks and to avoid the crowd,” on second thoughts, Don hesitated.

“Get Prince to carry some passengers,” suggested Bass.  A cunning grin started to emerge as if the two pickups were his lips.  Bass concluded, “A little weight shall make the competition fair and more entertaining for everyone.”

Prince was reluctant at first, but he finally agreed with the terms.

Ready?  Steady.  Go!

Don immediately scrambled up the steeply sloping wall and over the rock pillars.

The girl was frightened looking down the ravine and lost her balance on Prince’s back, making it a rough take-off.

“This is something you have to master on your own!” snarled Bass, “Young Gia, you need to hit the right diagonal.  It’s a two-beat gait, like riding on horseback.  You have to rise to the trot when Prince’s outside shoulder and inside leg are forward.  It’s obvious around turns.”

“Nonsense!” wheezed she.

“Hold on to it even the world does not make sense for now,” Bass went on, “and we will be where we wanted to be.”

“No, I can’t!” came her sharp cry of fear.

“Of course, you can.  Keep humming the groovy beat I just played for you.  It gives you a good sense of forward momentum.  Soar with us.”

The girl was a fast learner.  Prince resumed the balance and tumbled to cross the finishing line.

With the naked eye, Don and Prince both touched the memorial tablet on the rock by the Basteibrücke at the same time.  They shook hands, happy and honoured.

As they took the same path back to the village, they ordered an enormous sundae, big as a trophy, to share among the team.

“Guten Appetit,” said Bass.

“This is the taste of joy,” guffawed Don with delight.

Prince released a contended belch.