And so, nearly a month after I departed from it: Vienna.  Now I’m fairly certain that reading a blow-by-blow account of everything I did would be almost as boring as writing a blow-by-blow account of everything I did, particularly since it’s not fresh in my head anymore; so here are the highlights, and I’m going to spin it so that the belatedness is really just a chance to let the cream of the city rise to the surface:

Vienna’s public transportation system.  A+ in the class – you can be awesome lab partners with Portland, Oregon, and maybe tutor the SF Bay Area for extra credit.  The underground system (U-bahn) goes pretty much anywhere you’d want it to go, at least in Vienna’s city center; and Vienna’s city center is tiny, so you’re never more than a few blocks away from a stop.  The trams that circle the city center are quiet and for the most part clean.  I didn’t sample the buses but I’m fairly sure that they were equally excellent.

Travel tip: Okay, I’m like 99% convinced that no one actually pays for riding around – at least not on the U-bahn.   It’s probably at most €2 (US dollar equivalent = one year of college) for a ticket, but I never saw a ticket inspector get on once.  All the same, I was happy to purchase a Vienna Card from the tourism office.  For €18, the Vienna Card covers rides on all public transportation for a continuous period of 72 hours.  It also provides discounts for select restaurants, museums, etc.  A few times I was able to use the Vienna Card discount in combination with a student discount.  (Travel subtip: take your student ID card.  Yes, your photo is probably stupid looking, but it is like a Golden Ticket to Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.)  Even though I probably could have ridden for free and not have gotten caught, the thing did pay for itself, and I think it’s important to support good public transit.

Wombat’s Lounge. Okay, at $45 a night, it’s off-the-charts expensive for a hostel.  Bear with me.  The rate was inflated because it was New Year’s, but still, you get what you pay for.

© 2009 Conrad

Niels, whom Conrad and I affectionately called Niel-Niel (never to his face), works at the front desk.  Niels is awesome.  Niels wears cool glasses.  To compare Niels to the last face of a hostel I stayed at – some converted monastery in Letterfrack, Co. Galway, Ireland – Niels does not throw your money on the ground and yell at you to get out of his hostel.  I forgot to fill out the little feedback card for Wombat’s so I’ll just put it out to the universe right here: give Niels a raise.

It’s right next to the Westbanhof station, which is Vienna’s big train station as well as a stop on the underground.

Clean facilities!  Free Wi-Fi!

In the Lounge’s main … uh, lounge, there’s a fantastic little raised square – I’d say it’s like 8×8 – covered in, and floored with, comfy pillows.  It’s a great place to nap, or to surreptitiously watch Niels doing things like filling out paperwork and being awesome in other ways too.

Christmas markets were still going until about New Year’s Day.  All throughout the streets of Vienna’s city center, there are rows of little stalls selling roasted chestnuts, pastries, brats, donër, punsch (Mariko’s approximated directions for making punsch: add one bottle of Technicolor schnapps to rum/brandy/something else that’s similarly flammable.  Heat.  Serve in small Styrofoam cups.  Watch tourists consume.  Feel a bit like Jim Jones.), Christmas ornaments … et cetera.  Apparently pigs are a symbol of good luck in the new year, so lots of stalls were selling swine-related merchandise, including pig-shaped hats, which a lot of people rocked on New Year’s Eve.

Also there were ponies! I think it was to get money for circus animals, so oops at potential animal cruelty. © 2009 Conrad.

The streets were still decorated with Christmas decorations when Conrad and I got there: really beautiful.  They hang huge, beautiful lights down the center of streets.  I can’t describe this very well at this hour.  Look at photo:

One night Conrad and I got dinner at this bierbeisl, which I think translates to “beer house,” called Cafe Einstein.  I ordered a dish with lentils, bacon, and a fried egg.  It sounds like a heartstopper, and it probably was; but it was absolutely delicious.  Anyway, if you see something like that on a menu, definitely order it.

The Upper Belvedere and its gardens.  On any given map of Vienna, the Belvedere Museums look like they’re miles out from the city center, and it is easy to look at that and get discouraged, and decide to hang around the Lounge and watch Niels defy gravity or whatever.  Do not give in to this urge.  It’s actually a very short ride to get there (can’t be more than 20 minutes from City Hall, where I caught the tram), and the museum’s collection – the highlight being the world’s largest collection of paintings by Gustav Klimt, including but not limited to The Kiss, which is huge and illuminated so all the gold flares out like it’s emanating light – is well worth the ride.  I don’t even like just-so arranged gardens but I loved walking around there.

The Kiss

Although, absolutely do not walk in the gardens if you’ve recently watched the episode “Blink” of Doctor Who.  Statues everywhere.  Slightly panic-inducing.

Continuing my Klimtsession, the Secession Building is one of the most beautiful pieces of architecture I have ever seen.  The whole downstairs is devoted to Klimt’s Beethoven Frieze.    There are three other little floors that feature contemporary, experimental (but not in an irritating way) artists.

Two Americans, one Australian, two Canadians, one Mongolian, one huge street party, far too many firecrackers going off in the streets and fireworks going off at building level = one great New Year’s Eve.  At breakfast in Wombat’s, Conrad met this girl, Mel, who was in Europe for her summer holidays.  (Read: “summer” → Australia, “holidays” → I’m trying to sound like I’m part of the Commonwealth.)  Anyway, we went out with her friend Christie (Canadian #1), whose stated reason for being in Europe got increasingly scandalous as the night went on – start at “It was to visit my Italian boyfriend” and end at “I broke up with my fiancé in the States, then went to Italy to see my Italian boyfriend, broke up with him, and couldn’t take the awkwardness of traveling with him so I came here” –; and Chris (Canadian #2), who’s doing a year in England for teacher’s college and resembled Joaquin Phoenix in that 1. he kind of looked like him and 2. as he became more intoxicated throughout the night, he became less and less coherent and finally became a bit of an embarrassment to the rest of us.  Every street in Vienna’s city center becomes a place for free concerts and other assorted forms of merrymaking (drinking, firecrackers, drinking, fireworks, dancing, a receptacle for people to throw empty bottles on the way to more drinking).  We followed our ears: heard “Bad Romance” and ended up at a free concert that played a mix of bar mitzvah-style oldies – yes, I was in fact singing along to “Greased Lightning” – and Top 40.  We ran into Jeaney, the nanny from Mongolia I mentioned a while ago who was someone’s friend.

© 2009/2010 Jeaney

Anyway, I don’t want to get all L’Auberge espagnole because honestly I hated that movie and I hate it when people tells Those Stories about randos they meet in Europe.  But suffice to say, it was a good group of people to ring in the New Year with.  By the way, when it gets to midnight in Vienna and you hear the Blue Danube, grab someone and dance the Viennese waltz.  If you don’t know how, fake it.  Everyone else probably is too.

The New Year’s Day concert.  Of course I didn’t see it in person.  Tickets to see the Vienna Philharmonic play on Jan. 1, 2010, sold out in January of 2009.  But they broadcast the concert live on a huge screen outside of City Hall, and a crowd of people gathered to listen to the music.

Speaking of music, I got a photo with Leonard Bernstein’s tux at the Haus der Musik.  Please ignore my stupid expression.  This photo is for my mom.

© 2009 Conrad

Cafés Landtmann and Central.  Landtmann for the beautiful coffees and the long-suffering waiters; Central for the surprisingly cozy arches and columns, and also the history of Communist plotting that went on there during the early twentieth century.

© 2009 Conrad

© 2009 Conrad

The OBB Rail Network is prompt, clean, efficient, and a very pleasant way to spend a few hours traveling from Vienna to our transfer in Innsbruck.  Less can be said about my first brush with Italian rail….

Travel tip: RailEurope is an awful, sneaky cheaty ripoff.  Niels is to RailEurope as petting a puppy is to kicking one.  Also, RailEurope charged Conrad and me $100 extra when they tried to put us on a full train and they had to change our reservation.  If you can, check out Deutsche Bahn for timetables and ticket prices.  There are lots more options to choose from.

Okay, I really should try to sleep so I won’t be a total zombie at the Uffizi tomorrow.  I’ll try to be better about updating – maybe someday I’ll even talk about Florence, like the blog title implies I would!

• Vienna
• New Year’s in Vienna
• Rail Europe sucks
• Oh, um, Florence…

Soon!  I’m actually taking my midterm Italian exam in 10 minutes, so I should maybe study or something.

Not sleeping for 24+ hours sure looks good on us.

I took this stunning/flawless/professional/delightful photo of Conrad and yours truly when we first got to our hostel in Vienna.   Conrad’s holding my coupon for a free drink at the hostel bar, which ended up being the absolute worst white wine I’ve ever had.  It took Conrad 14 hours to get here; me, more than a day.  Fortunately, we don’t look any worse for the wear….

Given the recent terrorist scare (I’d dig up a hyperlink to give context, but  seriously?  Someone’s hearing about this for the first time from me?), I was pleasantly surprised at my curb-to-gate time of about 25 minutes.  No bombs on my flight to Atlanta; just an irascible cat and a well-behaved — i.e. quiet — Yorkshire terrier in the row directly behind me.  My second flight was okay; long, but okay.  I’ve never flown internationally on Delta before, so here is my completely scientifically evaluated feedback for them:

• Michael Bublé for in-flight music?  Really? -1
• The food was surprisingly edible.  I had a chicken teriyaki thing with carrots for dinner and a piece of Tillamook cheddar cheese for dessert.  +2
• Diane the flight attendant gave me a package of peanut M&M’s on the house.  Four for you, Diane Coco.  You go, Diane Coco.
• And none for whoever made me sit through Love Happens, bye.  (Tomatometer score: 18%) -3
• The plane didn’t crash and we got to Zurich 15 minutes early. +5

All in all, room for improvement but I’m not dreading flying with them in the spring.  Well done Delta!

The Zurich airport is fantastic.  Lots of glass — reminds me of the Ontario, California airport.  And toilet seat cleaner!  My inner germaphobe (oh, who are we kidding, I’m a proud and vocal germaphobe) rejoices.  Also,  Switzerland doesn’t have a customs form to fill out.  I just showed the official my passport and said “Hallo,” (one of the four or so words I learned, danke Youtube) and walked through the exit that isn’t for smugglers, and I’m good for the Schengen states!

Anyway, I got about an hour’s worth of sleep on the plane, so waiting six hours for my train was kind of torturous.  (Getting from the airport to the station was fine, made memorable only by my discovery that the tram was called a “Schindler waggon.”) The train station is pretty nice — colorful art, warm waiting room.  I kept myself awake — but just barely — by people-watching, exploring the area around the train station, and making a fool of myself in my German-speaking efforts.  I don’t even want to think about how many times I’ve uttered a phrase, followed immediately by, “I’m sorry, I know I slaughtered that.”

Art in the Zurich HB

The uniform for young women in Zurich: black overcoat, black blouse, black pants/skirt with tights, black leather boots, and a scarf (sometimes pink or gray, but usually black).  Lots of makeup.  Both my dress sense and my pores felt a little suffocated just by proxy.

After sticking my suitcase in luggage storage, I wandered around for a little while in the hopes that I would somehow generate energy by moving.  I guess it’s because train stations are generally not the classiest areas, but the shops jumped from strip club/burlesque joints to streetwear boutiques to head shops. The river which runs through the city is fairly lifeless-looking, but the water’s clear and birds skate above it, so I enjoyed it.  I also enjoyed a fifty-something couple strolling hand-in-hand by the river.  Both were wearing fedoras with feathers stuck in them.

I eventually ended up at the Museum für Gestaltung, the Museum of Design.  The main exhibit was portraits and advertisements by the photographer Michel Comte.  There were some photos I hated, such as that of a stick-skinny nude Carla Bruni — it looked borderline exploitative, even though it was apparently for a safe sex campaign — but others, such as portraits of Sophie Marceau, Miles Davis, and Tina Turner, were magnifique (to copy one francophone who was also in attendance).

Johnny Depp? Nope, it's Demi Moore. (from michelcomte.org)

Anyway, I finally got on my train, and got out of gray Zurich.  Several hours later, I reached Vienna.

Obsessively checking and rechecking the Turbulence Forecast: happening.  Laundry: happening.  Watching “Dexter” on Netflix and reading about racefail in “Doctor Who”: definitely happening.  Eating my way through the Bay Area: happening (Cheeseboard Pizza, why can you not be everywhere on the planet?).  Packing: probably not happening until about two hours before I leave for the airport.

Claire, my wonderful  friend and occasional roommate, generously lent me some guidebooks to Italy and the nuts and bolts of traveling; for Christmas I got two guidebooks to Florence, as well as a picture dictionary that will undoubtedly save me and whoever I’m talking to from my pitiful attempts at miming “I need to use the bathroom.”  Speaking of which, I still need to learn a few phrases of German and Italian – hello, thank you, where is the … – so I can get around without looking like a stereotypical American boor.  I like guidebooks, as long as they’re aimed at my general demographic (not that I wouldn’t enjoy staying in a chateau-cum-resort, but in general that is a bit out of my price range), and as long as I remember that they are just that: guidebooks.  Not you must do and you must not do.  Nothing is going to be as good an introduction to a place as just exploring.

I guess I sound kind of anxious about leaving and I am.  Mostly it’s just that I’m not coming home for six months so I’ll really miss my parents, the particularly golden light we get in the afternoon, and even my irascible cat.  But more than that, I’m getting incredibly excited for what’s coming up.  I’ll only be spending a few hours in Zurich so I’d like to figure out something to do for the brief time I’m there (suggestions, anyone?), but I’ve got a couple of ideas about what to do in Vienna.  I meet up with Conrad there.  We met freshman year and actually shared an apartment this summer, which has led me to introduce him as my common law husband on select occasions.  We’re on the ACM program together and we both wanted to have a more interesting New Year’s Eve than sitting at home (him) or winding up at hipster and/or high school cross-country parties (my past two New Years), which is why we’re going a few days early.  I think we’ll make a good traveling pair.  I’ve been to Europe before so I hope in the most desperately liberal arts of ways that my past experiences carry over in an informative and helpful way; and he has a knack for starting up conversations with strangers so I think we’ll be able to meet some interesting people.

But first I’m getting on a plane, two planes actually, then I’m going to run around a city for less than twenty-four hours, then unravel the intricacies of the French National Railways.  And I’ll be totally on my own.  And I’m looking forward to it.

And after New Year’s Day, I’m going to Florence!

The next time I’ll write I’ll be on the other side of the world, so until then, safe travels and good living everyone!  I’ll miss you….

San Francisco → Zurich airport → Vienna for New Year’s → Florence for three months → Zurich airport → Midwest for spring term.

This winter I’ll be in Florence, Italy, studying the Italian language and Renaissance art, intellectual life and politics in the Associated Colleges of the Midwest Arts in Context program.  Naturally the thing to do is start a blog.

I still have to buy train tickets to and from Austria (and figure out just if I should fork over money for a Eurail Pass as Rail Europe so badly wants me to), figure out my New Year’s Eve accommodations, and apply for an Italian visa.  I also should probably work on trying to find a job for this summer since I won’t be readily available for a face-to-face/phone interview when I’m abroad.  Not to mention that I still have a few weeks left of homework and final papers/projects that I’m badly behind on.

It just hit me how nervous I’m going to get about Europe before I actually get there.  I’m the type to accumulate anxiety, as the previous paragraph might indicate.

Other things worth noting about me: I’m from California, attending a small Midwestern liberal arts college where I’m a junior English major with tentative plans to go to school for environmental law.  During summer 2008, I studied at NUI Galway in western Ireland, so I am familiar with electric showers and other oddities of European life.  Well, odd to me, anyway.  Hobbies include exploring my school’s Arboretum, DJing for the student radio station, writing stories, eating many kinds of food.  I’m short, constantly worried, and very interested in getting out of my comfort zone.  Enough about that.