Vienna Waits For You

 Maybe I expected too much out of Austria.
A girl at the hostel asked me if it had been everything I hoped it would be, and I didn't know how to answer.

What had I hoped?

I had hoped...that it would answer something.
Though, at the same time, I'm not entirely certain what question I was asking.

Was I disappointed with Vienna?
No. I can't say that I was.
Was I blown away by it?
No. Except by way of ice cream. Holy goodness. I very nearly proposed to the proprietor of the second ice cream shop we visited. Only refrained because, on the off chance that he answered, "Actually, yes. I am indeed in the market for a wife", I would seriously have considered going for it. My jokes are only ever partial jokes. I wasn't playing with the fire (or ice) of that one.

My favorite part of Austria (other than the ice cream), was the busride: Praha -->Wien and Wien --> Praha. Lots of quiet time to sit curled in sunshine, watching the quaint houses and countryside and fields on fields of yellow flowers and windmills.

We were a little late on our arrival to Vienna, due to the fact that we missed our first bus by about 45 seconds. Actually, looking back, it was pretty funny. At one point on our journey to the bus station, we ended up in this dusty, deserted construction site. ..What? How?

There was also a more than sketchy situation with an overly amorous British couple on the bus in the seats next to us. Did I mention we were the only 4 people on the bus?

Finally we made it to Vienna. Day 1 there consisted in walking to our hostel. It was a heft 6 mile dander, but gorgeous. Just gorgeous. Would have chosen it for a day's activity. Actually, it was one of my favorite activities we did there.

Through a park, along a river. Mm. Yes.

Bridge graffiti

We finally arrived at our hostel, entitled "Believe it or Not Hostel." And, actually, it lived up to that haughty title. To rooms with wee lofts to accommodate more people. You've gotta stay at least two nights. And it's away from the main hub of the city. So the people who end up there are calmer and, at least the ones I met, intelligent. 

Breakfast in the morning made by owner Lili, laundry, all sorts of random amenities, and a great price. It really does make you feel at home. Loved it. Had the opportunity for some great, constructive conversations with people from all across the globe. 

Did I take pictures? No. I did not. 

 Day two in Vienna, my buddy London joined us. We got coffee from a cafe with no prices (we are convinced that the prices were changed if you were or were not a tourist), visited a bookshop, wandered the city, went to another bookshop, and got POURED ON by rain. There were actually some pretty serious feet side effects from the rain and my chacos. Namely, so much blood. But you don't need to hear about that.

Doesn't that look just like Cinderella's castle back there? 

We also found a market. It consisted of people dressed in traditional austrian gear and wine. 

and this band. There's an old guy you can't see that's in the audience just playing along with a wooden kazoo. Made. My. Day. Ain't no party like a solo-kazoo party. 

The oldest running Viennese church. Fun fact, inside is an entire human skeleton.

It's guarded by this dude. 

With this sweet stained glass inside. 

One day, I hope to be posh enough to get away with pushing a pram full of small dogs and totally own it. 

 So day 2 in Vienna our poor feet needed a break, so we made it a day of sunning and snacks.
Appfel streudel, some weird ball of dough with honey and cinnamon, and the best ice cream of my existence. Match that with snuggling in the grass of various public arenas and getting made fun of by German youths. No shame. We don't get sunshine in Belfast.

I can't even go into detail about that ice cream. Just know that it was delicious.
That night and the next, we got delicious, inexpensive sushi. Nothing like raw fish, I tell ya.

The buns of human rights. Erected for a good cause. Currently, it was good enough cause for me to laugh uncontrollably. 

The next day was a little odd. I shall explain.

Started out normally, we went to an outdoor market, passed by a Russian memorial (of course) then over to the Belvedere (please tell me I'm spelling that right), then to the botanical gardens (where there was another garden market)...

I have multiple shots of this man. I just feel the need to admit that. 

In my defense, I refrained from shooting the people next to this guy. Started feeling a little creepy . 

The Austrians know their way around a garden. 

I don't  know what these are, but I want them. 

 ...THEN it felt like somebody shoved a knife into my eye, had to take my contact out, and was sent into spiraling blindness. My whole face swelled up, I couldn't open or shut my eye without pain, and it was spouting water. Truly pathetic. Please make fun of me.
Don't worry. Gets worse.
Sonya then had to lead me like a blind person all 4 miles back to our hostel. After lying for a few hours with no change (except maybe my face swelling up even more), I took some allergy pills and a pain killer. On an empty stomach, which resulted in nausea, which resulted in taking a motion sickness pill, which resulted in total delirium, which resulted in me collapsing on the community couch and talking at/to/with an australian guy I'd never met before (and never saw/saw again) for God knows how many hours while Sonya went back into the city to explore it at night. I have little to no memory of the entire night. But I hear from the British runner and the Croatian cross-fit instructor that I was hilarious.

So there was that.

Actually, funny memory, that was not my first "blind" experience. One year at JBU, my freshman year, my buddy Steve and I did it on purpose. On our way over to the annual Siloam Dogwood Festival in our friend Layden's car, we found a pair of blind people sunglasses. You know, the kind that visor you in from all sides.

Instantly a plan was formed.

I put on the glasses and took Steve's arm as he led me around the festival--a solid two or so hours--calling out (LOUDLY) walking instructions. One of my favorite memories. Absolutely so hilarious.

Sonya and I waved goodbye to Vienna early the next morning. Didn't even have a chance to meet/apologize to my Australian.

One last shot of Vienna as we headed to the subway. Or Metro. or Underground. Or whatever you do so wish to call it. 

I think on my next trip to Austria, I'd want to hit up Salzburg and mix it up with a couple days in Munich, Germany (cue Pink Panther references). It was good, very lovely. I'm very glad we did it, and I loved meeting the people from our hostel.

Who knows what I was looking for. Who knows what I found, really.
Vienna is Vienna, for all that she is and for all that she is not.

#momweek2014 (part 3)

I know I've just recently told you about my love for Newcastle, but my mother wasn't with me.

Since it was St. Patrick's day, I didn't have class. So, Jansie and I grabbed a bus (or two) and made it down to Newcastle.

I always love the drive there. The weather's always different (even rain has its variations), and I see new parts of the city and countryside that I don't often get to.

Finally, we got there and promptly walked to Maud's for ice cream. They're known for their honeycomb "pooh bear" ice cream, but for copyright issues, it is officially known as "poor bear" ice cream these days.

That's how you can pick out the locals from the foreigners.

I'm tellin' ya, ice cream is always the answer.

Speaking of which, when the Kanukuk group was here, they kept asking me for the best places to eat or go or whatever, and I told them I was useless for that kind of stuff, but I'd be able to tell them the best coffee shops.

That is just not true.
I mean, to an extent it is: I can usually tell you the coffeehouse with the best vibes.
But I know ice cream.

It is my not guilty even kind of pleasure.

In fact, after Maud's and Mom's first fish n' chips--
["It's not my first! I've had Long John Silvers!" 'You've had nothing.']
--we had ice cream again.

It's a place called The Strand, which is a double decker and overlooks the ocean.
Oh HELLo.

To, ya know, burn off a few calories, we then walked to Tolleymore Forest. I am probably spelling that wrong, but I am okay with that.

On the way to the forest, by way of the Bryansford Lane, we came across a field of sheep.

Being that I am an antagonistic little sister, I baa'd at them.

They did not like that.

The entire field started for me, baa'ing loudly in reproach of our approach. Made for a sweet shot, being held captive on Jansie's camera.

The forest was just like I'd left it: green and tall and full of that tingly sensation that something greater than you just has to exist.

It was getting dark and touristy, so we headed back, snagged a bus (complete with a family of 3 plus one large dog named Holly, along with lots of other colorful folks), and vegged out for the rest of the evening, totally pooped.