I meant to wake up on time for work at 9:00 but didn't wake up until 10:45. No worries, when I finally went downstairs the manager woman handed me a rake, led me outside, and told me to come back in whenever I wanted lunch.
I raked for about an hour and then took a lunch break, which consisted of onion soup, salad, wiener schnitzel, and spaghetti. Not too shabby for a mid-day meal. The woman told me that I had done enough work and could go after I ate, but I wanted to finish the lawn. Partly because I hadn't had many chances to actually earn my keep, partly because it was a beautiful day, and partly because it wasn't exactly going to kill me.
So I went back out and raked for another hour to finish the lawn-- it was HUGE-- and then went inside to tell the manager woman that the task was completed. Lo and behold, the woman was gone, and so my efforts went temporarily unnoticed. But at least I finished what I had set out to do that morning. And it would be a nice surprise when she returned.
When I left Hotel Post I went to the youth information center since, having only given myself a week in the country, I wanted to make sure I did everything. Or, rather, I wanted to leave no stone unturned.
There were two people working at the info center when I arrived and I told them "I want to do EVERYTHING in this country." They got a kick out of that because, they said, "there is NOTHING to do in this country." I had my route for the country in mind, so to make things simpler I asked them to just write three things for each of the towns. They laughed again because, seriously, they said there was nothing.
Well, I was already in Schaan, so I figured I was starting off right. After all, Schaan is the most-populated town in all of Liechtenstein. Which means, to give you an idea, it has a population of 5,806. A real metropolis, eh?
Schaan is divided into two sides by the road, which runs down the middle and serves as the downtown. Downtown Schaan is about three blocks long and consists of a bank, a music store, a bar, a supermarket ambitiously called "party center," and-- for reasons completely beyond me-- a giant construction site.
The road, then, splits Schaan into two sides, with one side being the commercial district and the other being the historic district. On the commercial side is Hotel Post, the post office, the train station, and a restaurant.
The historic district, though, is the important and memorable part of Schaan, as it consists of a church and a cemetary. Yes, an entire church and an entire cemetary.
The church, listed as one of the twenty "historic sites" on my map of the country, is notable for a 14-panel "story-board" of the crucifixion, a pretty decent organ, and the least-impressive stained-glass windows I've ever seen in a church. Ever. Not exactly a rousing start.
The adjacent cemetary had toilet facilities amongst the graves. This is the only notable thing about the cemetary. But, really, no thanks. I think I'll hold it.
The other thing about Schaan is that the town has an art center for the mentally handicapped. And these were, ahem, the most artistic retards I've ever come across. A couple workers were there changing the theme of the center from "fall" to "Christmas," and I went in to look around because, honest to God, I thought it was an art store. It really was that good. The workers asked if I wanted to paint something, and I politely declined. Not because I don't like art, but because the paintings already on the wall would make me look retarded. Ahem.
As was to become a common theme, and has had already been demonstrated in the youth info center, the two women thought it was hilarious that an American was exploring Liechtenstein on foot. At this point, I'll be honest, I was beginning to have a better understanding about why everyone thought this was funny. After all, I had just explored the entirety of Schaan-- the largest town by population-- in under an hour an a half, and it only took that long because I decided to crawl instead of walk. Not such a good sign for the rest of the country.
The other thing I realized from this visit to the art center is that, in general, the only people in the world more self-deprecating than people from New Jersey are Liechtensteiners. This isn't really surprising to me, largely because of the following conversation I had with a real human being:
him: Where are you from in America?
me: New Jersey.
him: Oh, that's part of New York, right?
me: No, it's a state.
him: I mean it's part of New York CITY-- it's one of the burroughs.
me: I assure you, it's a state.
him: You're sure it's not one of the burroughs? I mean, there's Manhatten, Brooklyn, Newark, New Jersey, and one more, I forget what it is.
This is an actual conversation I had with someone. It's sort of that way with Liechtenstein.
(By the way, according to wikipedia-- and most of my accumulation of knowledge is "according to wikipedia"-- "Schaan is the location of the world headquarters of Ivoclar Vivadent AG, the world's biggest manufacturer of false teeth, and Hilti Aktiengesellschaft, one of the world's largest makers of anchors and power tools." I'm not sure how I missed this, but I guess that's something to be proud of, huh?)
(Oh, and if you're wondering, the three things listed for Schaan were "church," "bars," and "cinema." Nice.)
After a thorough exploration of Schaan, I headed back to the youth info center at around 5:30. Niko, a dude who had been working there earlier, had told me to come back to see about some sort of work, and when I arrived he said I was going to meet the owner of the supermarket. Rather, the owner of the "party center."
The owner ended up being a pretty good dude and said he would pay for my dinner and a bed at the hostel that night in exchange for me coming back the next morning to work. Sounded like a deal to me. So I went to the restaurant next door and, still being full from lunch, ordered a bowl of meat and barley soup. Not really a wise choice, considering the open tab for dinner, but this was one of those lessons learned through experience.
Anyway, it occured to me as I was finished my soup that the hotels in Nendeln had all been closed and that maybe the hostel wasn't open either. So I called the hostel from the restaurant and, as I expected, found out that it wasn't open for the season yet.
Now I was in a situation, so I went to the bar next door to weigh my options. After discussing the matter with two bartenders and two patrons, I decided that the main options were:
1) Going back to Hotel Post. At CHF65 it was still a good deal more than the hostel but was probably the cheapest option in the entire country. And if I worked three hours or so the next morning I would be able to earn it.
2) Going to a hotel in Vaduz. Except every hotel would be more than CHF100, which was absolutely out of the question unless I was going to work the entire day. I was in no mind to do that, to be sure, but also wasn't going to skip out on work entirely.
Of these two, Vaduz was an impossibility but I wasn't too keen on spending another night in Schaan. Let alone another night in Hotel Post. The people at the bar couldn't understand this, but I was adament about this last point. So they made some phone calls for me and had a few decent leads, but in the end nothing was working out.
Now, as the leads kept failing to work out, the guy bartender-- without prompt-- asked his buddy if I could crash on his couch for the night. The buddy said something along the lines of "not a chance"-- or maybe it was something along the lines of "no" but his body language sure as hell looked like "not a chance."
So I asked the bartender if I could simply crash at HIS place, since I assumed he was into the couch business, and he gave me an I-don't-know, why-are-you-asking-me shrug and head-shake. This is the best way I can describe it, but it was basically like he had no idea why I would even think to ask him, despite the fact that he had offered up his buddy's couch without my even prompting him.
Anyway, things were looking bleak, and I asked the bartender again if he would let me crash on his couch for just one night. And I got the same response. So eventually it got to the point where I literally asked him, "How many nights of us hanging out at the bar like this would it take for you to let me crash at your place for a night, if all I needed was a couch, a floor, or a bathtub, and if there was a wall safely between us, and if the alternative was me sleeping outside-- five, six, or seven?"
This was literally the question I asked him, and all he could say was "I don't know" and he refused to give me an answer. I asked the same question to the girl bartender, and she said "I'd have to ask my boyfriend." And I asked the same question to the two patrons, with the girl saying "not a chance" and the guy laughing.
The point is, students in Liechtenstein are the least hospitable in the entire world. In the entire freaking world. I'm not making this up.
Anyway, all else failing, I walked to Vaduz and tried Residence Hotel, advertised outside as a "comfort- undbusiness hotel." I walked upstairs and asked the lady at the front desk if I could crash there for the night, and much to my surprise she said yes, I could sleep on the couch in the lobby. I mean, seriously, I was pretty stunned. Believe it or not. But this place was class.
I was pretty hungry again at this point, since dinner hadn't been substantial at all, so I went to the Residence Hotel restaurant to try to get something to eat. The waitress was very friendly and almost as soon as I indicated I was hungry she went into the kitchen and brought out pasta with vegetables in cream sauce covered with parmesean. I have to call it that, because anything less would do a disservice to this wonderful food. And bread, since that was there too.
So I went back upstairs and ate my meal, and I started to feel at home but was nonetheless still a bit impressed with my own success. I mean, this place was C-L-A-S-S. Probably a CHF200/night place, at the cheapest. And here I was.
I wanted to go back to the bar in Schaan, since the bartender had said he would buy me a drink if I actually was able to sleep in a Vaduz hotel for free. But the hotel doors were going to be locked, and if I left I wouldn't be able to get back in. I figured the self-satisfaction of collecting on that drink wouldn't be worth the problematic nature of being homeless again, so I just said to hell with it and went to sleep. Early, but whatever.
But the lasting legacy of Hotel Residence was this-- it set the final standard for hotel quality.
nicest hotel: Burg Hotel; Deutchslandsberg, Austria
nicest bed: Octagon; Westport, Ireland
nicest couch: Residence Hotel; Vaduz, Liechtenstein
best meal: Burg Hotel; Deutchslandsberg, Austria
Way to go, Residence Hotel.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
9 November 2008: Schaan, Liechtenstein
(FIRST OF ALL, I'VE BEEN UNBELIEVABLY OUT OF INTERNET ACCESS SINCE VIENNA. ALTHOUGH THERE ARE MANY GOOD STORIES BETWEEN THEN AND NOW, THE STORIES IN LIECHTENSTEIN ARE MORE PRESSING, AS ARE THE ONES THAT COME AFTER. I WILL FINISH THE AUSTRIA STORIES AT SOME POINT, BUT FOR NOW YOU MUST REMAIN PATIENT. AND ENJOY THESE ONES.)
I had set my alarm for 9:00 in order to start hitch-hiking, but the combination of wanting to hike and wanting to see Emilie made me turn the alarm off and go back to sleep. (Although not before I witnessed the culmination of the previous night's birthday girl situation-- her phone rang, Giacomo told her "SHH" loudly, she left, and that was it. Clearly nothing had happened, and Giacomo confirmed as much later that day.)
I woke up again at 11:45 and, after Giacomo made pasta for lunch, I started hiking just before 1:30. Giacomo had told me a particular route to take to get to the mountain, but since you couldn't possibly miss the mountain even if you tried I just figured I would head towards the nearest mountain and, well, hit it soon enough. Which I did.
I spent the next hour or so hiking up and around the mountain and absolutely realized why people choose to go to school in Innsbruck. The town, as I've said, isn't much to speak of, but who needs a town when the mountains are just out your window. Hell, I'd go to school in Cleveland if I could escape to the mountains whenever I wanted to. Maybe even Columbus-- well, not Columbus, but you get the point.
The point IS that you're a 15 minute walk from the mountains, which means hiking and snowboarding and a perfect view of the city. Which means, unfortunately, that the University of Innsbruck isn't for you if you don't like snow, sunshine, or doing things.
So I hiked around for a bit, but at 3:00 I was suddenly overcome by the feeling that I had to go to Liechtenstein. Not so much a feeling as a premonition, almost, that I just had to go. Right then. I had done some hiking-- and had gotten the mountain-feel of Innsbruck-- and I could hopefully see Emilie in France eventually. But right then, right there I had to go. There was no avoiding it.
I hiked back down for the bottom and walked back to Giacomo's place, where I got my stuff and bid Giacomo adieu. He was very surprised-- and, I kid you not, had not opened the door at first because he had been scared it was going to be the birthday girl-- but he offered me a couch for the night in case I didn't actually make it out of Innsbruck that night.
It was a nice offer and a rather likely situation, not because the hitch-spot was bad but because, by the time I had gotten my stuff from Giacomo's and walked to the highway-- I wasn't going to tempt fate on the tram on my last day with all my stuff-- it was already 4:05. I wasn't feeling even slightly optimistic about my chances, but it only took 24 minutes for a car to pull up. It was going to Switzerland, all the way past Liechtenstein. It couldn't have been any more perfect.
I got in and talked to the driver, Stefan, for a little while, but I fell asleep pretty soon thereafter. As such, the ride was incredibly quick-- and uneventful-- and when Stefan woke me up we were in Feldkirch, the last town in Austria before Liechtenstein. I asked Stefan if he could take me a bit farther, and so he drove to where we were no more than 50 meters from the Liechtenstein border. At which point he gave me CHF10-- Swiss Francs, the currency in Liechtenstein-- and I got out.
I walked up to the customs agents and told them I was going to Vaduz. They didn't seem even the least bit surprised to see someone crossing the border on foot and with a bag on his back, which was a bit disappointing to be honest with you, but I handed one of them my passport and waited while he went inside. I was actually a bit nervous because I hadn't shown my passport when I crossed into Austria, and I wasn't sure how receptive Liechtenstein would be to outside influence when the last documented country I had been in was Hungary, but the customs agent came right back out and ushered me through.
And that is how, at 6:02, I crossed the border and walked into Liechtenstein.
I kept walking down the same road, and the first baby town I came to was Nendeln, but all the hotels were closed. So I kept walking to Schaan, which was the first major-ish town and where I figured I would find something. The walk took me about an hour, but all I had to was keep going straight. For most of the walk, on the left there are just a row of regular buildings. But on the right you can see lights going on forever with the outline of a mountain behind them. It's just lights on top of nothingness, like looking out at night upon an impossible number of boats on the sea. You couldn't possibly walk into the country and see this sight and not immediately realize that Liechtenstein was going to be an entirely different experience.
When I finally got to Schaan the first hotel I came to was called Hotel Post, and an old man greeted me at the door to the kitchen. I told him I needed a place to sleep for the night, and he said "it's not a problem" and motioned for me to sit at his table. Boy was that easy.
Except that five minutes later the actual manager came out, and I had to repeat to her that I needed a place to sleep for the night. She also said that would be fine, told me to meet her at 9:00 the next morning for a job, handed me a room key, and told me to take my stuff up. Boy, that WAS easy.
When I came back down the manager asked if I wanted dinner, and so I sat down at the old man's table again and by the time my plate of steak and rice had come out, the old man had bought me a beer. Although it wasn't just the one old man. There were three old men, none of whom worked there or had any authority in the place whatsoever but all of whom had been had been supportive that "it's no problem" when I asked if I could sleep there. And so I just spent a couple hours hanging out with these three old men, and it was really just like I had happened to walk in on their weekly "checkers night"-- they were just three old friends sitting around in a bar having a few drinks.
Of the three, one spoke bad English, one spoke too-good Spanish, and one spoke complete jibberish. And all spoke at the same time, so even discounting the jibberish I couldn't understand even one-fourth of everything that was being said.
The first old man, the one who had first invited me to sit with them, was the one who spoke too-good Spanish. He was from either Italy or Argentina, I'm not sure which, and claimed to have been to 44 states, including Montana but not Idaho-- I'm not sure how you can go to one but not the other-- but he said that his favorite state of all was Miami. This guy, Denato, was clearly the leader, and he kept flirting with the absolutely non-responsive waitress. I guess when you're not working for tips you're not as inclined to humor old men, but seriously, you gotta let the brother work his game. Denato kept laughing and shaking my hand and buying me beer, though I didn't understand even a fraction of what he thought I was understanding.
The other guy-- I'm not counting the jibberish-speaker, since I haven't a clue about him-- was, to be honest, kinda weird. He spoke a very little bit of English, but as he kept drinking he gradually stopped speaking English and it all became German. Which didn't get us far. He said he was in love with the waitress, which was easy to see as she was pretty cute and this guy probably spent five nights a week at this place, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that Denato already had dibs. Which, if it ever in a million years came down to it, is probably how it would have happened. Even with me included, sadly.
This guy, Norbert, said I could stay at his house "two weeks, it's no problem," and though I wasn't really so keen on that-- and kept telling him I couldn't stay at his house because of my allergies to cats, which was a convenient excuse-- he kept repeating "two weeks, it's no problem" over and over and over again. Weirdness aside, I guess you do have to hand it to the guy for being hospitable.
Anyway, I spent the evening talking with these guys, and though I couldn't understand most of what they were saying I did catch that they love Barack Obama and hate Fidel Castro. And, though I couldn't understand most of what they were saying, all I could come up with after I went to bed was-- these are Liechtensteiners? I loved them already.
I had set my alarm for 9:00 in order to start hitch-hiking, but the combination of wanting to hike and wanting to see Emilie made me turn the alarm off and go back to sleep. (Although not before I witnessed the culmination of the previous night's birthday girl situation-- her phone rang, Giacomo told her "SHH" loudly, she left, and that was it. Clearly nothing had happened, and Giacomo confirmed as much later that day.)
I woke up again at 11:45 and, after Giacomo made pasta for lunch, I started hiking just before 1:30. Giacomo had told me a particular route to take to get to the mountain, but since you couldn't possibly miss the mountain even if you tried I just figured I would head towards the nearest mountain and, well, hit it soon enough. Which I did.
I spent the next hour or so hiking up and around the mountain and absolutely realized why people choose to go to school in Innsbruck. The town, as I've said, isn't much to speak of, but who needs a town when the mountains are just out your window. Hell, I'd go to school in Cleveland if I could escape to the mountains whenever I wanted to. Maybe even Columbus-- well, not Columbus, but you get the point.
The point IS that you're a 15 minute walk from the mountains, which means hiking and snowboarding and a perfect view of the city. Which means, unfortunately, that the University of Innsbruck isn't for you if you don't like snow, sunshine, or doing things.
So I hiked around for a bit, but at 3:00 I was suddenly overcome by the feeling that I had to go to Liechtenstein. Not so much a feeling as a premonition, almost, that I just had to go. Right then. I had done some hiking-- and had gotten the mountain-feel of Innsbruck-- and I could hopefully see Emilie in France eventually. But right then, right there I had to go. There was no avoiding it.
I hiked back down for the bottom and walked back to Giacomo's place, where I got my stuff and bid Giacomo adieu. He was very surprised-- and, I kid you not, had not opened the door at first because he had been scared it was going to be the birthday girl-- but he offered me a couch for the night in case I didn't actually make it out of Innsbruck that night.
It was a nice offer and a rather likely situation, not because the hitch-spot was bad but because, by the time I had gotten my stuff from Giacomo's and walked to the highway-- I wasn't going to tempt fate on the tram on my last day with all my stuff-- it was already 4:05. I wasn't feeling even slightly optimistic about my chances, but it only took 24 minutes for a car to pull up. It was going to Switzerland, all the way past Liechtenstein. It couldn't have been any more perfect.
I got in and talked to the driver, Stefan, for a little while, but I fell asleep pretty soon thereafter. As such, the ride was incredibly quick-- and uneventful-- and when Stefan woke me up we were in Feldkirch, the last town in Austria before Liechtenstein. I asked Stefan if he could take me a bit farther, and so he drove to where we were no more than 50 meters from the Liechtenstein border. At which point he gave me CHF10-- Swiss Francs, the currency in Liechtenstein-- and I got out.
I walked up to the customs agents and told them I was going to Vaduz. They didn't seem even the least bit surprised to see someone crossing the border on foot and with a bag on his back, which was a bit disappointing to be honest with you, but I handed one of them my passport and waited while he went inside. I was actually a bit nervous because I hadn't shown my passport when I crossed into Austria, and I wasn't sure how receptive Liechtenstein would be to outside influence when the last documented country I had been in was Hungary, but the customs agent came right back out and ushered me through.
And that is how, at 6:02, I crossed the border and walked into Liechtenstein.
I kept walking down the same road, and the first baby town I came to was Nendeln, but all the hotels were closed. So I kept walking to Schaan, which was the first major-ish town and where I figured I would find something. The walk took me about an hour, but all I had to was keep going straight. For most of the walk, on the left there are just a row of regular buildings. But on the right you can see lights going on forever with the outline of a mountain behind them. It's just lights on top of nothingness, like looking out at night upon an impossible number of boats on the sea. You couldn't possibly walk into the country and see this sight and not immediately realize that Liechtenstein was going to be an entirely different experience.
When I finally got to Schaan the first hotel I came to was called Hotel Post, and an old man greeted me at the door to the kitchen. I told him I needed a place to sleep for the night, and he said "it's not a problem" and motioned for me to sit at his table. Boy was that easy.
Except that five minutes later the actual manager came out, and I had to repeat to her that I needed a place to sleep for the night. She also said that would be fine, told me to meet her at 9:00 the next morning for a job, handed me a room key, and told me to take my stuff up. Boy, that WAS easy.
When I came back down the manager asked if I wanted dinner, and so I sat down at the old man's table again and by the time my plate of steak and rice had come out, the old man had bought me a beer. Although it wasn't just the one old man. There were three old men, none of whom worked there or had any authority in the place whatsoever but all of whom had been had been supportive that "it's no problem" when I asked if I could sleep there. And so I just spent a couple hours hanging out with these three old men, and it was really just like I had happened to walk in on their weekly "checkers night"-- they were just three old friends sitting around in a bar having a few drinks.
Of the three, one spoke bad English, one spoke too-good Spanish, and one spoke complete jibberish. And all spoke at the same time, so even discounting the jibberish I couldn't understand even one-fourth of everything that was being said.
The first old man, the one who had first invited me to sit with them, was the one who spoke too-good Spanish. He was from either Italy or Argentina, I'm not sure which, and claimed to have been to 44 states, including Montana but not Idaho-- I'm not sure how you can go to one but not the other-- but he said that his favorite state of all was Miami. This guy, Denato, was clearly the leader, and he kept flirting with the absolutely non-responsive waitress. I guess when you're not working for tips you're not as inclined to humor old men, but seriously, you gotta let the brother work his game. Denato kept laughing and shaking my hand and buying me beer, though I didn't understand even a fraction of what he thought I was understanding.
The other guy-- I'm not counting the jibberish-speaker, since I haven't a clue about him-- was, to be honest, kinda weird. He spoke a very little bit of English, but as he kept drinking he gradually stopped speaking English and it all became German. Which didn't get us far. He said he was in love with the waitress, which was easy to see as she was pretty cute and this guy probably spent five nights a week at this place, but I didn't have the heart to tell him that Denato already had dibs. Which, if it ever in a million years came down to it, is probably how it would have happened. Even with me included, sadly.
This guy, Norbert, said I could stay at his house "two weeks, it's no problem," and though I wasn't really so keen on that-- and kept telling him I couldn't stay at his house because of my allergies to cats, which was a convenient excuse-- he kept repeating "two weeks, it's no problem" over and over and over again. Weirdness aside, I guess you do have to hand it to the guy for being hospitable.
Anyway, I spent the evening talking with these guys, and though I couldn't understand most of what they were saying I did catch that they love Barack Obama and hate Fidel Castro. And, though I couldn't understand most of what they were saying, all I could come up with after I went to bed was-- these are Liechtensteiners? I loved them already.
Friday, November 7, 2008
24 October 2008: Vienna, Austria
I woke up this morning ready to leave. I'm not sure why, since obviously nothing had happened since the previous night when I went to sleep, but I just felt like it was time to go. And, if possible, before anyone woke up.
Graz was my likely next destination, as it was the highest-recommended college town in Austria, but I also wanted to go to Innsbruck. However, since I would have to hitch-hike there, on account of the trains being so expensive, I was a bit concerned about the feasibility-- Graz is very far in the south-east of Austria while Innsbruck is in the very western part.
What I discovered, though, was Salzburg, internationally famous because of "The Sound of Music," which didn't matter a bit to me, but also a college town-- the fourth-biggest, after Vienna, Graz, and Innsbruck. It is on the way to Innsbruck, too, so I figured it would be an easy hitch to get to both.
So I decided I would stay in Vienna for the weekend, after all. As simple as that.
But when Mo woke up and I told him my plan, he said that Salzburg was a bad choice and that Graz would be a MUCH better time. Well, I trusted his opinion, but by this point it was too late in the day to go to Graz. So, after much deliberation, I was right back where I began-- staying in Vienna for the weekend and then going to Graz, and Innsbruck after that.
(Spicy ramen noodles were lunch during this deliberation. They were delicious.)
When I finally left the flat that afternoon I went to the tourism information booth. Considering the mixed reviews I had been given about National Day, I was still a bit hestitant about staying all the way until Sunday-- since that would make a week and a half in Vienna-- if it wasn't going to be worth it. I asked the girl at the info desk about that weekend's festivities and she said National Day was "going to be lame," but also that it would "make a good story." That sounded about right, and I figured that was really all I needed. A good story.
I was sold.
Committed to staying, I walked a bit around the empirical grounds, checking out the scene. There were still, of course, the tanks and planes and armed soldiers. But even more encouraging were the two gigantic blow-up dolls, the kind with that wiggly arms that you see on the side of the road advertising a car-wash or a yard sale. Except these two dolls, with their wiggly arms blowing in the wind, were dressed in Austrian army uniforms. If I was looking for a sign that National Day was going to be a show, I think this was it. Unquestionably.
I went back to Ike's place to try once again to recoup my €4, but he still wasn't there. I couldn't believe I was making such a fuss over two coins, but a guy's gotta eat and €4 is food for about three meals-- twelve meals if I kept eating Ramen noodles. But it was looking like I wouldn't get it, after all.
Disappointed, I went back to Niko's flat where I had, you guessed it, Ramen noodles. The last pack. It was chow mein flavor, a big drop-off from the Spicy flavor, but I added some chili pepper. It's pretty incredible, really, what you'll do to make simply "edible" food "decent." Or somewhat decent.
Corina and some guy who I had seen before were watching "South Park," which Corina has nearly episode of on her laptop. You would never believe how much these people love that show, and I'm telling you we watched "The Dreidle Song" on youtube no less than ten times in three days. That's not an exaggeration. In English AND in German.
Mo and Corina and the other guy started watching youtube videos so I moved to Mo's room to take a nap for a bit, and when I came back they were still watching youtube. And not just the three of them but about four other friends who had shown up. They honestly have the videos on cycle, known by nickname, that they watch continuously. It's the funniest thing.
(I also, at this point, was beginning to recognize most of Mo and Niko's friends, and there were Austrian fist pumps and greetings for everyone. It was sort of like Tomi's friends, in that I recognized everyone after a few days, but everyone seemed a bit closer in this circle. With each other and with me.)
We watched youtube for a while longer and I feasted on peanuts-- I am positive that I had seriously eaten more peanuts at Mo's flat than in the entire rest of my life combined-- and then we went to a house party at Mo's friend's flat. It was the first house party I had been to on my trip, although it wasn't really a house party at all. It was sort of just people sitting around in circles and talking-- sitting because everyone needed an ashtray and there was one in the middle of every circle of people-- with barely-audible music and no dancing. It wasn't so much a house party as a get-together with chips and beer and chili. Although delicious chili.
I was a big hit, of course, as the only resident American-- an easy card to play, I'll admit, but one worth playing-- and Corina pretended to be my "American girlfriend," telling people she was from Michigan also. I'm not sure how or why anyone believed her, but they did. She was a hit too.
I was talking to this one particular girl for a while, sort of a poor man's Sarah Palin, and she said that we should get coffee the next day. I said sure, and asked her where we should meet. She said "well, just come back to my place tonight."
Ladies and gentlemen, the Republican vice-presidential nominee.
It was sort of casually agreed on, but the thing about Corina is that she had described herself as my American "girlfriend" rather than "friend," when simply being my friend would have sufficed. She was being particularly flirty on this night, but had a habit of backing off right in the knick of time-- sort of like Tomi and the girl at the reggae club in Pecs.
Corina told me that I should go back with Sarah in a not-serious-but-I-should-probably-say-this way-- trust me on this one-- but I said that I prefered her. She said something about her ex-boyfriend, although I didn't really hear what she was saying, and just as these things happen I ended up leaving with Sarah-- although, when I did, Corina had a definite didn't-mean-for-you-to-go look on her face. Trust me on this one, too.
And so I ended up going home with a poor man's Sarah Palin.
More importantly, though, since both Sarah and I have black hair and black glasses and were wearing a black shirt and jeans, it was like going home with my twin. And how could I say no to that?
Graz was my likely next destination, as it was the highest-recommended college town in Austria, but I also wanted to go to Innsbruck. However, since I would have to hitch-hike there, on account of the trains being so expensive, I was a bit concerned about the feasibility-- Graz is very far in the south-east of Austria while Innsbruck is in the very western part.
What I discovered, though, was Salzburg, internationally famous because of "The Sound of Music," which didn't matter a bit to me, but also a college town-- the fourth-biggest, after Vienna, Graz, and Innsbruck. It is on the way to Innsbruck, too, so I figured it would be an easy hitch to get to both.
So I decided I would stay in Vienna for the weekend, after all. As simple as that.
But when Mo woke up and I told him my plan, he said that Salzburg was a bad choice and that Graz would be a MUCH better time. Well, I trusted his opinion, but by this point it was too late in the day to go to Graz. So, after much deliberation, I was right back where I began-- staying in Vienna for the weekend and then going to Graz, and Innsbruck after that.
(Spicy ramen noodles were lunch during this deliberation. They were delicious.)
When I finally left the flat that afternoon I went to the tourism information booth. Considering the mixed reviews I had been given about National Day, I was still a bit hestitant about staying all the way until Sunday-- since that would make a week and a half in Vienna-- if it wasn't going to be worth it. I asked the girl at the info desk about that weekend's festivities and she said National Day was "going to be lame," but also that it would "make a good story." That sounded about right, and I figured that was really all I needed. A good story.
I was sold.
Committed to staying, I walked a bit around the empirical grounds, checking out the scene. There were still, of course, the tanks and planes and armed soldiers. But even more encouraging were the two gigantic blow-up dolls, the kind with that wiggly arms that you see on the side of the road advertising a car-wash or a yard sale. Except these two dolls, with their wiggly arms blowing in the wind, were dressed in Austrian army uniforms. If I was looking for a sign that National Day was going to be a show, I think this was it. Unquestionably.
I went back to Ike's place to try once again to recoup my €4, but he still wasn't there. I couldn't believe I was making such a fuss over two coins, but a guy's gotta eat and €4 is food for about three meals-- twelve meals if I kept eating Ramen noodles. But it was looking like I wouldn't get it, after all.
Disappointed, I went back to Niko's flat where I had, you guessed it, Ramen noodles. The last pack. It was chow mein flavor, a big drop-off from the Spicy flavor, but I added some chili pepper. It's pretty incredible, really, what you'll do to make simply "edible" food "decent." Or somewhat decent.
Corina and some guy who I had seen before were watching "South Park," which Corina has nearly episode of on her laptop. You would never believe how much these people love that show, and I'm telling you we watched "The Dreidle Song" on youtube no less than ten times in three days. That's not an exaggeration. In English AND in German.
Mo and Corina and the other guy started watching youtube videos so I moved to Mo's room to take a nap for a bit, and when I came back they were still watching youtube. And not just the three of them but about four other friends who had shown up. They honestly have the videos on cycle, known by nickname, that they watch continuously. It's the funniest thing.
(I also, at this point, was beginning to recognize most of Mo and Niko's friends, and there were Austrian fist pumps and greetings for everyone. It was sort of like Tomi's friends, in that I recognized everyone after a few days, but everyone seemed a bit closer in this circle. With each other and with me.)
We watched youtube for a while longer and I feasted on peanuts-- I am positive that I had seriously eaten more peanuts at Mo's flat than in the entire rest of my life combined-- and then we went to a house party at Mo's friend's flat. It was the first house party I had been to on my trip, although it wasn't really a house party at all. It was sort of just people sitting around in circles and talking-- sitting because everyone needed an ashtray and there was one in the middle of every circle of people-- with barely-audible music and no dancing. It wasn't so much a house party as a get-together with chips and beer and chili. Although delicious chili.
I was a big hit, of course, as the only resident American-- an easy card to play, I'll admit, but one worth playing-- and Corina pretended to be my "American girlfriend," telling people she was from Michigan also. I'm not sure how or why anyone believed her, but they did. She was a hit too.
I was talking to this one particular girl for a while, sort of a poor man's Sarah Palin, and she said that we should get coffee the next day. I said sure, and asked her where we should meet. She said "well, just come back to my place tonight."
Ladies and gentlemen, the Republican vice-presidential nominee.
It was sort of casually agreed on, but the thing about Corina is that she had described herself as my American "girlfriend" rather than "friend," when simply being my friend would have sufficed. She was being particularly flirty on this night, but had a habit of backing off right in the knick of time-- sort of like Tomi and the girl at the reggae club in Pecs.
Corina told me that I should go back with Sarah in a not-serious-but-I-should-probably-say-this way-- trust me on this one-- but I said that I prefered her. She said something about her ex-boyfriend, although I didn't really hear what she was saying, and just as these things happen I ended up leaving with Sarah-- although, when I did, Corina had a definite didn't-mean-for-you-to-go look on her face. Trust me on this one, too.
And so I ended up going home with a poor man's Sarah Palin.
More importantly, though, since both Sarah and I have black hair and black glasses and were wearing a black shirt and jeans, it was like going home with my twin. And how could I say no to that?
Monday, November 3, 2008
23 October 2008: Vienna, Austria
The previous night Benny had invited Niko and me for lunch, so when Niko came back from classes he and I hopped on a tram and went to Benny's place, located nearly on the outskirts of Vienna.
Benny had made pasta with meat sauce, which was complemented by "the most delicious apple juice in Austria," and then we took a tram up a hill to a view which Niko had said was vital for me to see. I suppose. But I'll take the rooftop terrace any day of the week over this view.
Niko had to go to class after this, and he said that Mo was going to a second-hand store and I should go with him because "people are buying stuff so you'll find money." I didn't have any idea what he meant by this, but it was fine to walk around, so I went back to the flat to meet up with Mo and Corina.
The second-hand store was pretty weak, though, and Mo just wanted to buy a pair of sneakers. We literally went to five stores before he found an acceptable pair. He turned down an alright pair for €20, and then a cool pair for €25, and then went to two more stores that had nothing, before finally choosing a pair of black sneaks with huge and terrible blue Nike swooshes on the sides. I mean, it was a pretty abominable selection. Shouldn't Corina have advised him on this?
(Incidentally, the whole episode was pretty fun, even if WAS a bit annoying that it took over an hour to buy a pair of sneakers. But there's never anything wrong with walking around with a couple friends. Though I still didn't have any idea what Niko had meant about finding money.)
After Mo finally made his decision we parted ways and I headed to Ike's to try to recoup my €4. He wasn't there, and though I waited about half an hour he didn't show up. I went back to the flat, had a slice of artichoke pizza-- the first real pizza in almost two months-- and then, because €4 is sadly a lot, I went back to Ike's. But he still wasn't there. And then, because I sadly was still hungry, I went back to the flat and made some more Ramen noodles. Pretty gross.
Niko was out for the night, and I told Mo I was going to walk around Vienna for a bit. I asked if he and Corina wanted to come along, mostly as a kind gesture and not thinking they would say yes. I meant to walk around by myself, as a sort of reflection upon my time in Vienna, but Mo said he did want to come and convinced Corina to come too. So my quiet walk had become a tour. OK.
I had been planning on leaving the next day, in order to spend the weekend in Graz, but we walked across the Parliament lawn and saw a number of tanks and fighter planes being guarded by armed soldiers. Mo talked to one of the soldiers, who said that the tanks and planes and tents were there for National Day on Sunday. I had known that National Day was coming up, but Niko said it wouldn't be anything special and I hadn't thought much of sticking around for it. But I figured soldiers with machine guns guarding army tanks and planes at midnight was a sign that National Day might end up being a bit of a show. And maybe worth seeing.
After some more walking Corina wanted to get a drink, so we found an Irish pub and went in. It was, of course, like every other Irish pub in the world, with Irish beer, Irish signs on the walls, the Irish punk band that everyone has on their itunes, a wooden bar, a foosball table, and soccer on the television. I mean, you've been to one Irish pub not in Ireland you've been to them all.
Anyway, I was walking back to Mo and Corina from somewhere and a girl came up to me to say hello. Or, rather, to say "You're still here, Zach?"
"Yes I am-- and you are?"
It turned out to be a girl who had walked with me from the IDA party to Shannon's hostel, whom I had completely forgotten about and never would have recognized. I told her I was probably sticking around for at least another day and maybe the weekend, and she asked if I needed a tour guide. Well, now I was DEFINITELY sticking around for at least another day and maybe the weekend.
We said we would meet at 3:00 the next afternoon at Stephansplatz, and in my mind that was the commitment to stay, like I said, at least for one more day. As it turned out, though, I committed too soon, because when I went to say goodbye to her I said I would see her the next day and she said "Well, I don't know, I mean I have class and I might need to sleep afterwards." It was absolutely the most abrupt turn-around I had ever seen.
Anyway, I went back to the flat with Mo and Corina. And, at least mentally, I was already staying for the weekend.
*************************************
To be perfectly honest, I was a little bit concerned at first about over-staying my welcome. I was on a pretty bad streak of over-staying, what with Ike and Astrid and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and to a lesser extent Greg and Tomi. But I really believed that Mo and Niko enjoyed my being there, and Mo had certainly made it clear that I was "welcome." So it seemed safe. Which meant I would have a second shot at a Vienna weekend, which would hopefully make up for the first one.
Benny had made pasta with meat sauce, which was complemented by "the most delicious apple juice in Austria," and then we took a tram up a hill to a view which Niko had said was vital for me to see. I suppose. But I'll take the rooftop terrace any day of the week over this view.
Niko had to go to class after this, and he said that Mo was going to a second-hand store and I should go with him because "people are buying stuff so you'll find money." I didn't have any idea what he meant by this, but it was fine to walk around, so I went back to the flat to meet up with Mo and Corina.
The second-hand store was pretty weak, though, and Mo just wanted to buy a pair of sneakers. We literally went to five stores before he found an acceptable pair. He turned down an alright pair for €20, and then a cool pair for €25, and then went to two more stores that had nothing, before finally choosing a pair of black sneaks with huge and terrible blue Nike swooshes on the sides. I mean, it was a pretty abominable selection. Shouldn't Corina have advised him on this?
(Incidentally, the whole episode was pretty fun, even if WAS a bit annoying that it took over an hour to buy a pair of sneakers. But there's never anything wrong with walking around with a couple friends. Though I still didn't have any idea what Niko had meant about finding money.)
After Mo finally made his decision we parted ways and I headed to Ike's to try to recoup my €4. He wasn't there, and though I waited about half an hour he didn't show up. I went back to the flat, had a slice of artichoke pizza-- the first real pizza in almost two months-- and then, because €4 is sadly a lot, I went back to Ike's. But he still wasn't there. And then, because I sadly was still hungry, I went back to the flat and made some more Ramen noodles. Pretty gross.
Niko was out for the night, and I told Mo I was going to walk around Vienna for a bit. I asked if he and Corina wanted to come along, mostly as a kind gesture and not thinking they would say yes. I meant to walk around by myself, as a sort of reflection upon my time in Vienna, but Mo said he did want to come and convinced Corina to come too. So my quiet walk had become a tour. OK.
I had been planning on leaving the next day, in order to spend the weekend in Graz, but we walked across the Parliament lawn and saw a number of tanks and fighter planes being guarded by armed soldiers. Mo talked to one of the soldiers, who said that the tanks and planes and tents were there for National Day on Sunday. I had known that National Day was coming up, but Niko said it wouldn't be anything special and I hadn't thought much of sticking around for it. But I figured soldiers with machine guns guarding army tanks and planes at midnight was a sign that National Day might end up being a bit of a show. And maybe worth seeing.
After some more walking Corina wanted to get a drink, so we found an Irish pub and went in. It was, of course, like every other Irish pub in the world, with Irish beer, Irish signs on the walls, the Irish punk band that everyone has on their itunes, a wooden bar, a foosball table, and soccer on the television. I mean, you've been to one Irish pub not in Ireland you've been to them all.
Anyway, I was walking back to Mo and Corina from somewhere and a girl came up to me to say hello. Or, rather, to say "You're still here, Zach?"
"Yes I am-- and you are?"
It turned out to be a girl who had walked with me from the IDA party to Shannon's hostel, whom I had completely forgotten about and never would have recognized. I told her I was probably sticking around for at least another day and maybe the weekend, and she asked if I needed a tour guide. Well, now I was DEFINITELY sticking around for at least another day and maybe the weekend.
We said we would meet at 3:00 the next afternoon at Stephansplatz, and in my mind that was the commitment to stay, like I said, at least for one more day. As it turned out, though, I committed too soon, because when I went to say goodbye to her I said I would see her the next day and she said "Well, I don't know, I mean I have class and I might need to sleep afterwards." It was absolutely the most abrupt turn-around I had ever seen.
Anyway, I went back to the flat with Mo and Corina. And, at least mentally, I was already staying for the weekend.
*************************************
To be perfectly honest, I was a little bit concerned at first about over-staying my welcome. I was on a pretty bad streak of over-staying, what with Ike and Astrid and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and to a lesser extent Greg and Tomi. But I really believed that Mo and Niko enjoyed my being there, and Mo had certainly made it clear that I was "welcome." So it seemed safe. Which meant I would have a second shot at a Vienna weekend, which would hopefully make up for the first one.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)