Austria, 2011

"....For my first day in Vienna, I woke up early, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after my first legitimate shower and after realizing that I was knocking back on the door of what I consider civilization (Western Europe, save me!). Rather than pay for another bus tour or fail trying to find one of the many free walking tours of Vienna, I grabbed a map, paired it with my “list of things to see in Wien”, and hoped for the best. I found a long street littered with outdoor crystal-studded chandeliers and felt like a lost child who finally found its mother down the cereal aisle at Wal-Mart. Much to my pleasure, at the end of the chandelier-brick road was Stephansdom, the Cathedral of St. Stephen and the seat of the Archbishop. I had intended to attend Sunday mass there, but built in about 2 hours more than needed to actually FIND the place, and thus simply lit a candle (after a donation of a smattering of various foreign monies), said a few prayers. Mostly I was thinking of my mom, whom I was certain was hardly sleeping and potentially hitting the sauce in my absence.  She survived my adventure, so cheers to you, St. Stephen.

Vienna was the epitome of everything I have always loved about Europe; winding cobblestoned streets, sparkles, fairy dust, underground pubs and friendly faces speaking pretty languages I vaguely understand. I ordered a Viennese sausage stuffed into a sourdough roll off a street corner and continued wandering, coming across the myriad of sites surrounding Vienna’s city center and Stephansdom. I was just walking to the Parliament building when I noticed “Weiner Christkindlmarkt”, aka that site which made me fall back in love with all things Christmas-related. I literally had to stabilize myself with a light pole upon arriving there, having to take a few minutes to step back and take everything in before I rampaged onward. I saw signs for beerenpunsch, mulled wine, mulled Jaegermeister, oodles of pastel colored confections, gigantic sandwiches made from waffles, and mass amounts of unidentifiable meats and cheeses sopping out of hunks of bread. I immediately got in line for a souvenir mug of mulled wine mixed with beer and gin and completely exposed my nationality when I stumbled over the pronunciation of it in German. Little did I care however, for I was about to have a mouthful of hot mulled gin, which makes up for all embarrassment in any culture. I continued waltzing through Weiner Christkindlmarkt and sampled every kind of strange looking food I could. I had my first experience with chestnuts roasted over an open fire, and frankly they were dry and bland and weird. I never liked the song anyway.

I got up early in the morning to get to the train station to get to Salzburg as quickly as possible, as I was only spending a few hours there. I mostly slept on the way to Salzburg and very cliché-ly watched the European countryside out the window of my train compartment thinking existentially about life. As soon as I got there, I embarked on foot to the Sound Music sights that I had googled and written down in my journal the night before. I stopped at Mirabell Palace and walked up and down the stairs that the Von Trapp children (in the movie, at least) sing “Do Re Mi” on, as well as dipped my hand in the fountain that Maria splashes when she’s running out to the Von Trapp residence for the first time. I ran through the vine-covered tunnel that they bike through in their drapery clothes. I saw a pretty gazebo and pretended like it was the infamous gazebo in the backyard of the Von Trapp house (it wasn’t, but you only live once right?). Then I went into the old town and walked down the street that the kids and Maria buggy through, learning how to sing. I climbed an ancient set of steps up to Nonnberg Abbey, where the nuns were filmed, and saw the front doors where the children beg to be let in to see Maria. On the backside of Nonnberg Abbey is St. Michael’s Cathedral, which houses the cemetery with the tombstones that inspired the scene where the Von Trapp’s hide from the Nazi’s. I passed through what was the setting up of Salzburg’s Christmas market, and unsuccessfully hunted for any open vendor for which to sell me hot liquor or oversized sausages (unsuccessfully I might add).

I got back to the Salzburg train station about 20 minutes before my train departed (the next one would have left 3 hours later) and grabbed a sandwich and drink at a sidewalk cafe. I coolly watched my train roll in and leisurely boarded my train car, eyeing a decent spot to snooze in for another 2 hours to get to Munich. Come to suddenly remember, I had previously locked my backpack in a locker in the Salzburg train station so that I wouldn’t have to carry it all day, and in my relaxed state of mind had neglected to retrieve it! Awesome. Trains in Europe are extremely punctual and only spend about 4-10 minutes sitting in a particular station waiting for passengers to board/de-board. Thus, I thoroughly panicked and ran off the train, down a few flights of stairs to the locker room, and remembered lovingly that I had yet to pay for the locker itself. Upon reaching into my change pocket, and realizing I had not only Euro cents but leftover Polish zlotys and Hungarian forints, basically surrendered getting back on my intended train in my head. UGH. I somehow managed to find and shove enough Euros in the machine to pop open my locker and made it on the train with barely 40 seconds before it started chugging off again. The point of this segment is this: whenever I am in an airport or train station, I see at least one person running around with a wildly panicked look on their face, and I think “Oh how awful.” I finally turned into THAT GUY at the train station in Salzburg, reveling in the high that comes with having romped through Austria Sound-of-Music style for the day.