The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘Vienna’

Attn: Ellen (2/15/17)

Front

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Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

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The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

A month ago I learned Wien means Vienna in German. And yet, it wasn’t until I was ordering Wiener Schnitzel that it all clicked … Wiener means Viennese! Knowledge, huh? Now if I could just visit every city in the world I might be intelligent. Please sponsor my intelligence? I’ll send postcards!

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com
OR @DumbFunnery

Why am I doing this?

OK Travelers, Vienna – Part 2

December 28

My wallet and I were looking forward to breakfast, which was going to be an actual sit down breakfast (instead of a croissant on the go) and free from the hotel. It was a buffet style breakfast, so it was a fairly typical hotel breakfast … but still, it was good to sit, eat, and not pay money. Also it was certainly European style rather than American – random cheese plate with deli meats? Sure, I guess I can eat that? Am I supposed to make a sandwich here? What am I doing?

After breakfast we walked to an art museum that was not far from our hotel – I was excited about this, the first art museum of the trip! There’s not much to say about the art museum … I mean, I could say a lot, but it’d be me doing a poor job of describing beautiful paintings, and I think we can agree that we don’t need that. The museum did have one really interesting, in a dorky way, display about the history of how the museum is decorated. It is something that I don’t give any thought to, but it was interesting to read about periods of the walls being full of paintings (as it was for our visit) versus times when they were sparsely adorned. Something something reflection of the popular culture of the times? I don’t know, I visited that display at the end of our visit so that information was mostly lost.

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After the museum we got on the hop on/hop off bus and rode that for a while. The bus was very crowded so the lady and I took different seats on the upper level. The bus had cheap ear buds they gave you, and jacks at each seat, along with a control where you could listen to descriptions of what you were driving by in up to 15 or possibly more different languages. I ended up sitting next to an old Italian man, and my wife had my ear buds. The Italian man was with a big group and he spoke no English, so we exchanged awkward nods and half-hearted smiles with each other. He was plugging his ear buds in and apparently having troubles, I pointed to the volume and he shook his head no, I pointed to the language options and he shook his head no. Somehow (how? really? how? I have no memory of this) he communicated to me that no sound was coming out at all. The bus stopped and my wife ran back, handed me my ear buds, and went back up to the front of the bus to her seat. I plugged my headphones in and sure enough, no sound for my input jack either. We looked at each other and gave a language-independent, ‘eh, whatever’ look. I felt pretty good about my old Italian buddy.

Soon enough the Italians all hopped off and my wife came and joined me. We rode the bus for a while more, seeing the city and making notes of all the places we would love to visit (still bummed I didn’t visit the military museum!) but knew we probably wouldn’t have the time for.

We made our way back to the hotel early because we needed to get ourselves some food and then prettied up for the opera. THE OPERA!

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After some room service burgers (pretty tasty – and ironic, considering we were also preparing for the Vienna Opera) we headed out. I had not bought a tie or blazer (we were in a nice part of the city and ties were not cheap, I didn’t even bother looking at blazers). Had there been a cool Viennese tie I would’ve bought that, but it was just overpriced brands I could get at home – and who wants that as a souvenir? Hey check out my Ralph Lauren tie from Vienna! Pft.

The opera was the Magic Flute, written by some nobody … Wolfgang something or other. Who names their kid Wolfgang? You want your kid hanging out with wolves? I mean, come on.

The opera house was BEAUTIFUL inside, and there were some very beautifully dressed ladies there. Fur coats, apparently, are not a faux pas like they are here in the States. Little old ladies wearing their weight in fur, younger women in beautiful gowns, fellas looking nice (we fellas have the nicety of not having to try hard with our standard nice outfits, but we also don’t look quite so glamorous). We pulled out our tickets and were directed to our seats and … THEY WERE BOX SEATS! WHAT?! Who are we? How fancy are we!?

We had arrived nice and early thinking we would have to go do coat check (a fancy thing already) but instead we have our own little entry room to hang our coats? What!?

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Our box had six seats – in front of us were two French people (an older man, and a woman), ourselves, and then a couple from Chicago. They had apparently tried to buy their tickets a year in advance, were on a waiting list, and eventually got them. Either our hotel clerk is a magician, or we are very lucky people (because our tickets weren’t that much).

The box had little displays to show the translations of the German opera.

The first act was enjoyable, but the warmth of the place was leading me to be a little sleepy. It’s not that I wasn’t enjoying it, it’s just that it had been a long day of moving around and it was so soothing to be still and warm. I kept doing little tricks to stay awake, and at intermission I walked around. They had someone selling ice cream or gelato. This made me respect the Viennese opera even more – ice cream at intermission? Be still my beating heart.

The second act was better than the first, and as I wrote in a postcard, it featured the most beautiful singing I have ever heard in my life. The aria from the Queen of the Night was incredible – I could feel my body warming from the power and beauty of the woman’s voice. It was incredible.

My wife and I had our first (and so far only) opera experience at the Vienna Opera, which may have been a mistake. I imagine we will have to try hard to reach that level of amazing (the costumes, the voices, the setting, everything was incredible – but most especially the Queen of the Night). Nevertheless, we are now two opera admirers which is not something I ever would have guessed (don’t get me wrong, I love me some Frasier, I just didn’t think I’d take on Frasier’s love of opera).

After the opera we walked back to our hotel feeling elevated and lifted by how beautiful things can be. Not a bad set of thoughts to carry off to dreamland.

(Ok, not to detract from that pretty ending to the day, but … at the opera the other fun thing to observe was the couple in front of us. The woman was maybe 10-20 years younger. At one point during the show she was excited about how good it was and she grabbed the mans hand to hold it and set it on her leg, then a minute later very sternly and annoyed removed his hand and gave him a look. My theory: she was using him for gifts/shows, the lady’s theory: she was his mistress. What fun is the opera if you can’t make up a little theater for those around you?)

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December 29

Waking up in a foreign country is exciting, everything is new and worth observing and paying attention to, everything is exciting and full of potential, and when your wife has a cold, it’s worse than a cold at home. It takes even more out of you because it’s sapping you of so much potential. The lady woke up feeling worse instead of better, the magic drugs were not so magical after all.

We had breakfast and then headed to the buses to see Schönbrunn Palace, which is where Marie Antionette lived for part of her life (among other names in history). The palace was a big tourist draw, and despite the fact that we arrived right at opening (10 am) it was still a packed house that we walked through.

The tour takes you from room to room, and you can get a little audio device that tells you what you’re looking at. The rooms had wallpaper that was noticeable (normally that’s not something I pay attention to) – the colors were so rich and beautiful you couldn’t help but admire walls. That’s a feat, to have walls worth admiring (Trump joke goes here). The furniture was also impressive, and we saw a royal bed. This made me think of how weird it was back in the day … mistresses and public sex. Public sex because how would you know a future king is from the right pair unless you hang around and watch the magic happen. But with how common side cars were, couldn’t a queen have given birth to an illegitimate kid? (Maybe I’m watching too much Game of Thrones.)

Anywho.

After the palace we walked around the Christmas booths that were set up there and bought a few little ornaments. More exciting than those, in theory at least, was a booth that was all bread stuffs. I bought a pretzel doughnut which did not live up to its name. Pretzel doughnut is a hard notion to really live up to, though. It was basically just a pretzel with sugar on it.

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From there we headed to lunch nearby. There was a pizza shop and we thought it’d be good. We walked in and realized, apparently, that right next to this tourist hub is a much more mean looking area. Our waitress was a very Russian looking woman with tattoos – a lot of tattoos. This is worth mentioning because she may have been the only person I saw there with tattoos.

(Europeans vs Americans: Americans are big on beards and tattoos these days but have kicked the cigarettes, Europeans are the opposite.)

The pizza we had was delicious, despite the fact that we were seated next to the smoking room. (A glass door separated us from a small room, I thought it was some sort of cool private lounge area but no – it was the cancer lounge. See?, they’re still big on cigarettes.)

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After the food was done we made our way back to the hotel. The lady took a nap (sicker, and sicker) while I putzed around taking pictures of things including: one attempt at a selfie with a statue of a half woman/half lion with her chest exposed … I didn’t try too hard to take this picture because I felt very self-conscious, but I thought it’d make for a funny picture for me to show the lady.

For dinner we went back to the cafe where we had lunch the first day. We had figured the food there was good, it was close by, and the lady was not feeling top notch so it seemed a good idea to get more soup for her. It was fun staring at everyone around us, dressed very nicely, wondering what shows they were going to.

Vienna, I would like to visit you again one day and see more of your shows and more of your city. The shorter days of winter really worked against our ability to cram as much into a day as possible. But hey, it’s good to have a reason to go back.

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OK Travelers, Vienna – Part 1

December 27

I had thought our trip would involve trains and the fast-paced sightseeing that comes with a window seat, but when I looked up the travel time from Lucerne to Vienna on a train I realized that may have been a whole lot of just staring out a window. We debated an overnight train with a sleeper car (something I’ve yet to experience and that sounds glamorous but in reality is probably uncomfortable and irritable-inducing).

Thankfully, it’s not too much to fly from one city to another when they’re close by.

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That night I took a walk from our hotel and one of the nearby museums had a different things projected on it.

The lady and I woke up and left our grand life of Lucerne, heading to Zurich airport to fly to Vienna. Our flight was through Swiss Air but fulfilled by Austrian Air. When we boarded the plane my wife and I were both taken aback by how nice it was. It wasn’t as though it was a fancy plane or a glamorous seating arrangement – it was a regular old flight that was just nice. Like a nod to what flying must have been many years ago. There was classical music playing (probably an Austrian composer), the flight attendants were in beautiful red suits/red jacket and skirt. And they were attractive at that (one of them I think my wife had a crush on, a woman with black hair, pale skin, and strikingly blue eyes).

The flight was short and uneventful except for the wife playing the role of the hero. The woman sitting to my left, at the window, had lost her glasses. She told me this and we both glanced around but did not find them. As soon as the plane landed and the fasten seat belts sign was taken away the hero of the day got off her seat, got to the ground, and spotted the woman’s glasses under her seat. Phew. I’m sure that woman heaved a big sigh of relief. Not a very important event, but it’s always good to be a good American ambassador and do something kind.

From the airport we took a train straight to the central station, and from there it looked to me like a not very far walk (pst: mistake). The lady had started down the path of a little cold and she was being a trooper, but was less full of energy than she had at the start of the trip.

 

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Same building, different view, different projection. Sorry I’m not a better photographer – it was really neat in person. (But I did spare you from how chilly it was.)

We walked the 3/4 mile or so to the hotel and experienced our first very cold weather of the trip – the wind was strong and laughed at our jackets, scarves, gloves, and hats. It seemed to find every possible crevice and use that to remind us that winter is no joke. (Up til then the lack of cold had been surprising.)

We got to our hotel and checked in, and we asked about the possibility of seeing an opera. The clerk informed us that there was one the next day but it was sold out, and we could pay extra to get tickets from a 3rd party. The Viennese Opera? Sure, we’ll pay a little extra. The amount she stated was fine, and we were well on our way to being classier and more sophisticated people than ever before.

One little hang up was wardrobe – the clerk informed us skeptically that I could get by on slacks and a button up shirt for me, but a tie would be nice, oh and also a jacket. Right, sure.

With the lady of the house rocking her bit of cold, and our frigid walk to the hotel, soup sounded mighty fine. Our kind clerk let us know about two different spots nearby that had good soup and after dropping our bags and relaxing for a minute we made our way there. With the early flight and walk to the hotel we were treating ourselves to a later lunch, it was maybe about 2 pm.

The cafe where we ate was fantastic (we ended up going there twice in our short stay). The waiters wore nice suits, but it was not a fancy restaurant. There were coat racks right by the door and it was a seat yourself deal that once again drew looks of agitation and judgement from the wait staff when you asked about seating. We both ordered a sausage appetizer plate and soup, and both of us couldn’t have been happier with our meals. I decided that a lot of Bavarian and Viennese classic dishes were like a great burger place – there may not be a huge range or a lot of variety, but what they do, they do really well.

There was a pharmacy next to the cafe, so we popped in and got some cough drop type drugs from the pharmacist who spoke English. Come on drugs, work your magic!

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From our late lunch we walked to the opera house to look into a hop-on, hop-off bus line. The tickets would be good for forty-eight hours, and there was a bus leaving just then that would take us toward the Sigmund Freud house (a goal destination of the Mrs.). With little delay we were on the bus and on our way to dear Dr. Freud’s house/place where he saw patients. My wife is a psychotherapist which is why this house had much more meaning and relevance and importance to her. The museum itself was small, it was his house after all, but it had a lot of neat items (his couch that patients used, for example). I would recommend the museum, BUT I think it’s worth reading about Freud first because the museum seems almost oriented towards Freud geeks. It explained things well, but it explained them as though you already knew the first half of the story.

After the museum it was dark out, and the weather had gotten colder. We ducked into a coffee shop to get some drinks to warm ourselves up and scheme on what to do next. I thought walking back to the hotel would be just fine (but remember, I’m ok with a couple miles of strolling) … the wife was less keen on the walk (and remember, she had that bit of a cold) and then when the rain began to fall from the sky chilly as you like, we decided maybe walking wasn’t best.

We managed to find our way, moderately accurately, to a subway station. And after a little bit of confusion we were back at the hotel, happy and warm. The day had been long, and we were wiped out, so we decided dinner at the hotel would be ok. The restaurant attached to the hotel seemed a little fancy, but thankfully without the fancy prices, and I would say definitely without the fancy taste. I had a chicken dish which was bland, but hey, you can’t win them all. I think Europeans in general seem to be less keen on spices than I am accustomed to. My wife was very amused because my plate had a ‘little sachet of lemon.’ It was a lemon slice wrapped in something, and I saw the little wrapping and thought, ‘there must be cheese in here!’ so I untied it only to discover a half a lemon. Talk about a crushing blow. The chicken and my taste buds were happy with the lemon, though.

 

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