More Lost Things

Continuing in the vein of wonderful things from the 1920's and 30's, I just finished re-reading Patrick Leigh Fermor's Between the Woods and the Water, the second volume of his memoir/travel book about walking across Europe in the early 30's. Together with the first volume, Time of Gifts, Leigh Fermor recounts his journey from Tower Bridge in London, across the channel to the Hook of Holland, and across Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Romania. He eventually made it all the way to Constantinople (no, not Istanbul), which was his original goal. The Europe he describes was completely decimated by World War II- it's no longer possible to make a journey of this kind. Leigh Fermor alternated between sleeping in barns, in mayor's homes, outdoors, and in the schlosses and chateaus of a slew of Austro-Hungarian nobles. He struck up friendships with graduates of the Maria-Thereseum in Austria (where there was "only one student who was not noble" in the year of one of his friends), the bright young things of half a dozen Central European towns, woodcutters, innkeepers, rabbinical students, Transylvanian shepherds, and gypsies. On his long walks he kept himself company by singing and reciting poetry to himself, much to the surprise of many he passed along his route, and he read voraciously everywhere he stayed, as well as taking advantage of the knowledge of everyone he met along the way. He writes about everything under the sun: history, art, architecture, politics, nature, parties, and alcohol (there's quite a lot about alcohol). I'm extremely envious of Leigh Fermor, mostly for the fact of his living in such a world. However, since I'm unable to make such a journey myself, I'm glad I can read such a wonderfully wise and amusing account of his. I think everyone should read these books, if for no other reason than that they paint such a poignant portrait of a world that no longer exists, and give one such a powerful sense of how much was lost or destroyed by the second world war.