People we meet on our way downstream keep giving us hours of their time—and plenty of gifts. Most of them are liquid: bottles of homemade slivovitz, wine, beer, even jars of honey. And yesterday, someone gave us a massive Danube fish. A generous gesture—but a bit of a challenge for our vegetarian crew. For now, the fish rests quietly in the fridge.
Today the river is calm and wide, its banks low and green. Between Romania and Bulgaria, the Danube seems to move more slowly. From time to time, we pass rusting docks or solitary barges—faint echoes of busier days. There’s a quiet rhythm to this stretch: steady, sunlit, slightly sleepy
We continue to drift downstream, grateful for the kindness of strangers and the steady presence of the river.
In the evening, we moored in Turnu Măgurele. Just beyond the town, a vast industrial complex stretches along the riverbank—no longer in use. Once, it produced heavy water for Romania’s former nuclear program. Now it stands quiet.
