Continuing my digital vagabond life I arrive in a city of opera and sausages with a friend I made on the train!
Missed the first Part? Start Here or read the Previous Part!
Making new friends
“Seven more hours,” I told myself as I lied down on the two empty seats, stretching my legs across the aisle. “This isn’t so bad!” With WiFi, decently priced cafe (quite un-Zurich-like) and occasional tables to eat or work from, the eight hour train to Vienna was definitely a good choice.
But what truly made it were the two others I randomly overheard chatting. Ana was a Portuguese girl living in Switzerland who worked in insurance and spoke 6 different languages. She drew eyes with charcoal. Hard to believe she was only 19.
The other, Al, an older mechanic from Los Angeles enjoying his fourth annual Eurotrip equipped with a rail pass. Our initial disagreement about mutual American hometown made it surprising we ended up meeting again some four hours later right before de-boarding.
Neither of us ever made a travel buddy during our trips. It was time to change that.
Arriving at 22:00, we ventured around the closed-down commercial streets en route to our hostel and stumbled by our first Würstelstand. The little shacks populating the city serve hot sausages offset by cold beers. This particular one was surrounded by other Polaks, chatting about girls, playing guitar, and singing in my mother tongue. At one am. An eerie welcome to Vienna.
Vienna markets, sausages and beer mugs
Under-slept, we set out on a half hour trek towards the city center. We stopped at the famous Naschmarkt, the biggest Viennese farmer’s market. Half the stands were tourist stores and restaurants, showing the city’s strong Mediterranean and Asian flavors. Old ornate building tops formed the horizon.
We stopped for an obligatory hot sausage with a kaiser roll and Al revealed to me his quest for a Stein. The decorated cup was much like a traditional beer mug, but featuring a lid as well. It comes in various shapes and sizes, including a 6 feet tall behemoth. Our goal led us into every tourist store we walked by, to find the best deal in town. It’s funny how two identical stores next to each other can vary prices of the same products by a good 25%.
Wherein I become a tourist
We made it to the Rathaus, the city hall, where men in 17th century costumes encouraged us to buy the once-in-a-lifetime ticket for the unforgettable concert experience at the Vienna Opera. We were so close to purchasing this amazing opportunity when we realized the “opera” was more of a regular room with overpriced seats all the way in the back. The incessant Bugar threw more and more must-buy-now “discounts” at us, and while this is how the tickets are usually sold, I got the feeling it wasn’t quite the magnificent deal he wanted us to believe.
Feeling adventurous, we jumped on a tourist bus which toured us around the most attractive locations in just an hour. Tourist buses are yet another thing I always scoffed at as silly and overpriced, and I must eat my hat (it’s furry one, too). The ride saved us a TON of walking to various cathedrals or generic-ornate-oversized-buildings which you only really want to see once to check off your list. It also gave a good sense of the size and layout of the city center. And the pre-recorded narrator taught me the architect of the famous Vienna opera killed himself before the building’s opening night because everyone (including the Emperor) absolutely hated his creation. How sad.
As I watched from the mobile second floor, I realized every European city I visited is composed of the same functional elements: majestic governmental center, the trendy commercial street, a relaxing waterfront, and obligatory farmer’s market, and so on. The building blocks were all the same, but each simply had their own flavor.
Quest for the Holy Stein
After the ride, we marched through the aforementioned commercial street in continued search for Al’s Stein. Vienna was big on its Mozart souvenirs, as we would learn. But my favorite part were the historic naked statues decorating modern little stores. Almost as great as bumping into the impromptu parade walking through the crowd.
We made it to Stadtpark, taken over by the Genuss Festival (another lucky coincidence), and bringing merchants from all across Austria together. Sausage and cheese samples with little wine and beer tasters I would guiltily let myself nibble on were a nice break after a long day of walking. The wild goose pate was mind-blowingly good, making subsequent Austrian dinner all the more underwhelming.
Underwhelming
I must admit I had better schnitzel (oversized breaded pork chop with lemon and horseradish) in a little German place in Texas. And it would not be until Slovakia till we had a goulash which was not bland. The nightlife, too, was rather quiet compared to the bustling French streets. Perhaps our hostel staff’s directions were at fault. Except for the Hard Rock cafe which, oddly, everyone seemed to be obsessed with here. Another mystery.
So instead, we spent the evening at our hostel, trying some delicious Austrian beers and chatting with a girl from Toronto of Polish origins. We stayed past 2am recollecting the tragic war-torn history of our home country.
Meeting fellow hostel travelers was definitely something I learned to do too late into my trip, but more on that later.
Intermission
The next morning we jumped on the cheap 1-hour train to Bratislava, where I would spend two days and split with Al. But that will be covered in the next post, before returning back to Vienna for a final round of Freudian museums, delicious beers, and travel epiphanies!
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