Posted under Austria
Two days in Vienna began with a comfortable three-hour train ride from Prague, followed by two legs of Viennese public transport. Jennifer had arranged our accommodation at an adorable little flat in a quiet residential area of town and we settled in immediately. It was already mid-afternoon by the time we went out on a walk to have a look around.
The architecture in Vienna exudes power. The buildings are large and imposing, stately with understated embellishments. We marveled at the Parliament building and Rathaus (city hall) with the beautiful Burgtheatre across the street. We strolled through the manicured garden of the Museum Quarter with the reciprocal museums of contemporary art and natural history. We walked around the Hofburg (the former imperial palace) and through Stephansplatz – the stylish shopping and restaurant quarter with grand buildings – pausing to admire St Stephan’s Cathedral with its beautifully ornate roof composed of colorful glazed tiles. I was mesmerized by the shop windows, elegant restaurants, and the spectacle of the whole pedestrian-dominated scene. There were men in classical Viennese dress, peddling opera tickets on the street; dance performers surrounded by crowds of onlookers; busy sidewalk cafes full of people watching the world walk by over tiny cups of espresso, layer cakes, and golden glasses of beer. Horse-drawn carriages clopped over the cobblestone streets, carrying smiling tourists around town and lending A Christmas Carol air to the scene.
After grabbing a quick bite near Stephansplatz, George and Jennifer hopped the tram back to the flat while Aaron and I opted to walk a bit longer. We wandered back the way we’d come, eager to see Vienna’s most stunning architecture at night. The buildings were all beautifully illuminated and it was like seeing them again for the first time. We walked leisurely toward the flat, invigorated by the cool night air, intrigued by Vienna, and stealing kisses in the moonlight.
Having come to the early realization that our foursome preferred differing travel styles, we opted to split up on our second day in Vienna. Aaron was the first one out the door that morning to hop on a train to Bratislava in neighboring Slovakia. I had originally intended to accompany him but, as I browsed the brochures of Vienna’s numerous museums and pondered the possibility of a day on my own, I succumbed to my mind’s desire for freedom. With a mediocre map and a pocketful of Euros, I found my way to the Underground and took the train to the Museum Quarter.
As I maneuvered through the city, I was overcome with awareness of being alone. After thirteen months on the road, I can count the number of days that I’ve spent alone on one hand and still have fingers left over. The initial realization of being alone in a foreign city is startling. Team Young has become a well-oiled traveling machine. We have naturally fallen into roles and responsibilities based on our personal strengths. Aaron, with his excellent sense of direction, generally navigates when we are on foot and, after all these months of following my cheeky compass around city after city, I found my navigation skills in need of a jump start. It occurred to me that even a well-oiled machine runs less efficiently with only half of its components and I smiled at the thought that I missed Aaron already. After the initial shock of aloneness wore off, I quickly remembered that I love being alone. Underlying my dependent complacency is the confidence and savvy of a seasoned traveler with a hunger for experience and enlightenment…a hunger that has led me down some roads less traveled.
As resident city of the Hapsburg dynasties, which ruled much of Europe from the fifteenth century through the early nineteenth century, Vienna amassed a vast collection of treasures from all over Europe. Today, many of those treasures are displayed in the city’s museums. With so many museums to choose from and only one day, I selected the Belvedere Museum and the Leopold Museum. At the Leopold, I spent hours in the presence of masterpieces by prominent Austrian artists such as Gustav Klimt and Egon Shiele and an impressive special exhibition of German artist Christian Schad. An art museum is the perfect venue for a day alone because it is quiet, there are plenty of stimuli for your right brain, and you can stay as long as you like in front of your favorite paintings. When I had absorbed more culture than my cranium could process, I wandered upstairs to the lovely museum café for a decadent lunch, lingering over tasty curry while giddily taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi.
Sufficiently recharged, I set out for the Belvedere Museum, which houses Klimt’s most famous painting, The Kiss. Along the way, I browsed a few book shops, picked up a new journal, stopped in one of the green city parks, and stumbled into the Nachmarkt – two narrow parallel streets comprising a premium food market and a restaurant row lined with boutique eateries serving well-dressed patrons at outdoor tables some of the most appetizing dishes I’ve ever seen. I walked slowly down each street, savoring the sights, sounds and smells and trying not to stare too long at the beautiful people or their delectable dishes.
Soon realizing that I didn’t have the stamina for the Belvedere, I sat down on a park bench with my mediocre map to figure out where I was. Glancing up, I happened to spot St. Stephan’s Cathedral in the distance and quickly headed in that direction. The restaurant and retail rue seemed even livelier than before. As I passed one particular sidewalk café, I caught a glimpse of a layered chocolate tart on someone’s plate and, without a second thought, without having to justify the indulgence or cater to anyone else’s desires, I wandered in and sat down at a small table with an excellent view of passersby. I ordered a gargantuan slab of sour cherry strudel and, for the next twenty minutes, relished the near-orgasmic sensation of each mouthful of plump, juicy sour cherries. It was a divine experience and the cherry on top of my blissful day alone in Vienna.
As I made my way back to the flat to reconnect with my traveling companions, I felt light, like I had taken a long, deep breath. I had forgotten how a day alone can rejuvenate the soul. At dinner that night, we all shared stories of our adventures. I think the day was good for everyone.
I have loved traveling the world with my husband. We have learned to have quiet moments in each other’s presence, which has probably been the saving grace of our sanity. We have enjoyed traveling with family and friends, the changing dynamic bringing new pleasures and challenges into our weird little world. My day alone in Vienna reminded me of the joys of taking personal time, stealing quiet moments to collect my thoughts and let my mind wander.
Two days in Vienna began with a train ride and ended with the same.
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Of course, there are hidden treasures all around the city – a graffiti-covered John Lennon memorial wall, an Italian palace garden with a stalactite wall revealing faces likely conjured by Dante’s Inferno, and obscure modern sculptures by local artist David Cerny – that inspire touristic scavenger hunts, the hidden fruits of which are discoveries of interesting streets, pretty parks, and romantic nooks along the way.
With our cheery traveling companions, George (who graciously hosts our website) and Jennifer, we spent five nights in the historic, romanticized city of Prague. We sampled a smorgasbord of Czech beers – the crisp fall air and cloudy skies always seemed to set the mood for a round – and cautiously dabbled in the local cuisine. Like German and Austrian fare, Czech food is heavy on meats, hearty stews, cheese, cabbage, potatoes, bread and dumplings. Street food in the form of pastries and sausages is omnipresent and cheap.
Rain was in the forecast during our brief two-night stay in Salzburg and, while we generally avoid tour groups, this was a perfect example of an exceptional time when joining the herd was advantageous: we had little time, no guide book, and wanted to visit several places that were spread out around the city and in the surrounding countryside.
The highlight of our tour was a stop in the charming little town of Mondsee. We visited St. Michael’s Church, where the Von Trapp wedding scene was filmed, and then sat down at a cozy café for some “crisp apple strudel” with hot vanilla sauce. We couldn’t find any schnitzel with noodles. The tour was cheesy but delightful and that first afternoon in Salzburg turned out to be the last good weather before the rains came. We walked around town a bit on our own – admiring the architecture, stopping by Mozart’s house, and browsing the pretty Christmas shops in the old town – but the cold and rain motivated us to spend most of the next day hibernating in our room.
After Oktoberfest, we needed a place to dry out and relax for a few days. Berchtesgaden was only a couple of hours from Munich by train and sounded like the perfect escape from the urban chaos. In Munich, buildings grazed in cement pastures and raucous pedestrians filled the streets. As the train whisked us away, the cityscape gave way to magnificent forest-covered mountains, dusted with the colors of fall. Peaceful alpine villages dotted the sweeping green valleys and cows grazed in wide open spaces. Cheerful guesthouses were covered with flower boxes, each overflowing with bright-colored blooms. Even in the confines of the train, we began to breathe easier.
Similar to Yad Vashem, the most interesting part of the presentation at Dokumentation Obersalzberg dealt not with the specific horrific acts perpetrated in the death camps but rather how a deranged maniac like Hitler came to power and influenced a nation toward genocide. The propaganda campaign, conceived and implemented by Dr. Joseph Goebbels, one of Hitler’s most loyal followers, was one of the most ingenious in history. While Yad Vashem approached the propaganda element by highlighting Hitler’s powerful rhetoric and anti-Semitic caricatures, Obersalzberg displayed more photographs of the Führer himself than we have ever seen – posters and other propaganda photos, staged to create and sell an image of Hitler as a man of the people, as a humanitarian, which slowly elevated the depraved lunatic to God-like status in the hearts and minds of his followers. The photos were both fascinating and haunting. I looked into those narrow dark eyes and saw evil but hindsight is twenty-twenty. Would I have seen it then? Would I have been able to see through the propaganda to the madman?
When we spotted St Bartholoma in the distance, we were disappointed to discover that the western mountains had already cast its postcard-perfect view in shadow. As we neared the dock, however, we saw that the soft light created a wintry pall, an ethereal glow, across the lakeshore. Stepping off the boat, we walked among the autumn trees and along the emerald green lake. The chapel doors were open and we found the interior modestly appointed with iconography and a simple altar. The chapel, which is accessible only by long hike or by boat, was quaint and lovely.
