Traveling with Mozart

Budapest is notable for its cultural assets and centrality within Europe.  From here is it not difficult to travel down the Danube to other capital cities.  I took the bus to Vienna (Wien, colloquially) on a brisk Saturday morning and enjoyed the sunrise over the plains en route.  The bus let out at a station on the perimeter of the city, giving me two choices: I could buy a pass and ride the subway into the downtown, or I could just start walking toward the city center.  With camera in hand and the early light at my back, my decision was easily palpable.  Never knowing exactly where I was, everything took on a flavor of mystery, but I plodded on and duly encountered some idiosyncratic characters followed by some flummoxing spectacles.  Shops offering 8-tracks and phonographs beckoned to me.  Perhaps it was the early hour or the nonbusinessness of the day, but unfortunately, these franchises were not engaging in commerce, so I was relegated to negotiating with the frosty-glassed portals.  My stint of time travel would have to be postponed.  Each storefront and building offered to whisper secrets, but I was deaf to much because my budding understanding of Hungarian Awning labels was no help in the deciphering of this German.  Austrian tweenage hooligans returned me to the present reality, darting in slalom fashion betwixt the few pedestrian passengers like myself making their way onwards.  I suspected I was headed in the right direction because foot traffic intensified evermore as the wrist-bound clock hands climbed.  One avenue led to a boulevard, then to a causeway that opened onto a thoroughfare, which in turn clearly led to a gorgeous (and heavily populated) square.  My shutter release button could not keep up with the vistas and artistic sights beheld, so I took my time exploring the locality.  Fountains, sculptures, accordion players, gargantuan tour groups, Johannes Brahms, a lone yogi, and ostentatiously chlorophyll deprived leaves all captured the entirety of my imagination and reality in turn.

From this central circus, it was also possible to orient myself onwards.  Following a languishingly tempting stroll through an open market, a much-needed Austrian hot chocolate, a stop in an ingenuous playground and a perusal of the mercantile borough, I made my way to the hostel where I met my fellow travelers.  Including Professor Erdi, who came along to point out the best sights, we numbered three quarters of a baker’s dozen.  We oriented ourselves towards the museum quarter; Vienna has an impressive collection of storehouses for their wide array of culture.  Ambling over cobblestones shared by horse drawn carriages, I felt that my own symphony composing abilities were augmented by osmosis.  The Art Nouveau edifices were in sharp contrast with the modern street performances occurring in their lee.  When walking turned to trudgery, though, it was time to replenish in true Viennese style, with Sachertorte, the famous chocolate decadence.  Next, we went to the opera house and put in for balcony real estate: the deal is that an hour before each performance, standing room is sold off to the first half gaggle in line for 2€ apiece.  The marquee proclaimed Verdi’s La Traviata, and this is precisely what was performed.  You may choose against taking my word, though, because we know you get what you pay for, and it was only possible to see 5/12 of the stage.  The music was quite enjoyable and from what I could tell, the company had taken a minimalist conception of scenery and costumes.  Urbane discernment takes a lot out of a person, so by the curtain call, it was clearly time for a meal.  We found a traditional type Austrian restaurant near the hostel and ate heartily and to great content.  Someone needs to define “egg barley” for me.  Subsequently, we ventured back to the welcoming arms of just-too-stiff bunk beds.

Shonbrunn: fit for a queen

The following morning after another exorbitant meal (who thought it was a good idea to serve repast in all-you-can-eat style to weary travelers?), our company made our way to Schönbrunn Palace, imperial residence of the Habsburgs.  This is the largest building I have ever seen to house a single family, but it was spectacular to tour inside.  Every surface reflects the monumental wealth with which these rulers were burdened.  Each room has a purpose – for playing cards, for receiving foreign visitors, for combing the queen’s hair – and the tour did not even cover the entirety of the manse.  The accompanying gardens make the extravagance within seem trivial in comparison.  Behind this house there are acres of hills, impeccably manicured to the last pine needle, including a labyrinth, a zoo, a public pool, a private flower garden, greenhouses, monuments, secret alcoves, ad infinitum.  Before we arrived, I doubted we could possibly need a full day to see the attractions at some palace, but I was more than mistaken.  To start, we climbed up to the top of the hill, then to the top of the templum, and from there took in the glory of the palace grounds, Vienna, and the world beyond.  I must admit, when we faced the labyrinth next, I was skeptical of the challenge and confident about my abilities to conquer whate’er I found therein.  Again, I was put in my place when I discovered the lofty hedges, grown to impenetrable profusion.  

maybe it looks easier from above...

At each turn, I expected to encounter a sphinx (or at least a blast-ended skrewt) but was equally befuzzled when it was another dead end.  I escaped in time, for I am writing this, but mum is the word on the duration required.  Baby animals improved everyone’s mood afterwards when we perused the zoo.  My friend Ashley heard that this particular zoo proffered giant pandas including a new baby pandaling!  The panda enclosure, then, was a high priority destination.  Of course, the fuzzy inhabitants were all in a deep slumber, but so it goes.  We unlike our black and white clad friends had work in the morning, so begged adieu, enjoyed the other exhibits, and then headed for the train station.  There was time to stop in a nice little restaurant before we hit the road.  Over his plate of fried foods, Paul summarized it nicely: “Wien is the schnitz.”