The road that leads from Wien to Budapest echoes of strings,pizzicato,forte or sostenuto with the bow. These notes resound, absolute,in the history,musicians and great events,as well as through the streets,now,from closed windows, popular traditions,night lights and imagination on the past. The music of violins drives me across the heart of Europe towards East. This road is a river,that touches small villages,ruined castles,winery valleys and elegant cities,colorful dances and melancholic melodies. Slow as the water flow,and fast like the pindaric flights on a violin's strings.