The four and a half hour train ride from Prague to Vienna, Austria was restless. I voraciously read my travel guide book, highlighting and dog-earing pages; comparing them against the pages I'd printed back home published by bloggers who swore they'd found THE best hole in the wall bistros, local music halls, lesser known museums and the like. The time flew by and the more I read, the more my heart sped with anticipation. By the time I arrived at the station and hopped in an Uber to my hotel (a trendy hipster one I might add), I was overwrought with sensory overload. As a person with deep appreciation for the arts, music and especially architecture and design, I could not believe my eyes! In every direction I looked, I was met with refinement, elegance, symmetry, pristine white Baroque structures and mammoth buildings. I had never seen a city so clean, so devoid of graffiti; so carefully curated. And there was no trash! Anywhere! So immaculate was this city, in fact, that I thought, "You could drop a croissant on the ground and the proverbial rule would go from five seconds to five minutes unaffected." It was utopian.
Grateful English was commonly spoken in Austria, (though in the heaviest of Arnold Schwarzenegger accents), I begged the driver to slow down so I could take it all in, but alas speed is a common hazard on European roads. So, like my arrival in Prague, I arrived at my hotel and I could wait no more. Though my weary body needed rest post-Prague, I was desperately eager to explore. Everything. First and foremost, the famed Belvedere Museum - a former palace, complete with orangery, gardens and stables, it now housed the priceless works of artists like Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele, Van Gogh, Ferdinand Georg Waldmuller, treasures from the Middle Ages, and multiple levels of contemporary works alongside the classics. It's funny because travel guides provide "itineraries" and according to this particular guide, it would take on average an entire day to tour the Belvedere. I did it in three and a half hours. And here lies one of the perks of traveling alone: you can take as much or as little time in each place as you like. You can see what tickles your fancy or take a passing glimpse at that which does not speak to you and move on; no opinions or permission required. You can stop for lunch or grab and go and be on your merry way to the next stop. The day's schedule always belongs only to you.
A quick aside, it bares to note that prior to visiting the Belvedere, I had never been a Klimt enthusiast until I drank in his most famous piece: The Kiss. I had seen replicas of course, but in person, up close, it was complex. I was mesmerized; lost even. Painted by oil on canvas this masterpiece was adorned with gold leaf, platinum and silver. The entire exhibition was stunning but this particular piece was indescribable. I stared at it for more than fifteen minutes and even after touring multiple other galleries and halls, I found myself in front of The Kiss again and again and again; each time more drawn in by its subtle details. Paralyzed by the talent and finesse of this masterpiece, it defined the museum for me - undoubtedly in my opinion, it was the Belvedere's pies de resistance.
That evening, famished, I phoned my sister-in-law who had visited Vienna with her family recently for a restaurant recommendation. She sang the praises of a subterranean restaurant with live music and traditional Austrian schnitzel. And bonus, it was only 400 yards from my hotel. I arrived, ordered my meal, and as the musicians began to play on accordions and violins in this cavernous place, tears were streaming down my face. I was weeping. Publicly. Then almost as suddenly as the tears came, I burst into jubilant laughter. I called her back and said, "I can't remember the last time I smiled like this. Smiled, FOR REAL! I am so blissfully happy in this moment; I am so grateful for this opportunity. I can't describe it. It is perfect. Thank you." And it was perfect because laughter through tears is my absolute favorite emotion and for me, that was a sure sign that I was exactly where I was meant to be.
The next five days felt like a blur. The evenly paved streets of Vienna, once ruled by the Hapsburg Dynasty, were easy to maneuver. Nothing like the unstable footpaths of Prague. It allowed me to energetically traverse the city in my signature checkered Vans at lightening speed. I checked every box and then some, visitng Shonbrunn Palace (an EPIC experience), the magnificent Opera House, Ringstrasse, the National Library, the reverent Gothic St. Micheal's Cathedral, Parliament, Hofburg Palace, St. Peter's Church, Stadtpark, the Danube River, Stephensplatz, the Natural History Museum, Museum Quartier, Kalskirche, a local jazz festival, the Spanish Riding School, every monument and stature across the entire city, the birthplace of composers such as Beethoven, Strauss and Schoenburg and of course in doing so, savored not only the city’s remarkably unique culture but also the best Turkish meal I have ever tasted. On more than one occasion. Vienna. . .meeting you. Surely this is what it feels like to fall in love.
Without a doubt Vienna has to date been one of THE most wonderful travel experiences of my lifetime. It was arresting; wondrous; emotional at times; hard and lonely at others,. But it was also romantic and full of promise and beauty as well. It was unforgettable to say the least. And because I saw everything on my “list,” in record time, I called an audible and booked a rail to see what else but the home of one of my favorite childhood movies, The Sound of Music. Tomorrow? Salzburg. A quick two hour train ride revealed one of THE quaintest, most charming towns I have ever set eyes upon. . .amid one of the most terrifying fortresses still standing, the most beautiful children's clothing boutiques and ivy-lined streets was also the birthplace of Mozart. Salzburg was quintessentially Austrian. Salzburg was the right call; an unforgettable detour.
But two days, and a short flight later, I arrived at my final destination: Croatia.
Grateful English was commonly spoken in Austria, (though in the heaviest of Arnold Schwarzenegger accents), I begged the driver to slow down so I could take it all in, but alas speed is a common hazard on European roads. So, like my arrival in Prague, I arrived at my hotel and I could wait no more. Though my weary body needed rest post-Prague, I was desperately eager to explore. Everything. First and foremost, the famed Belvedere Museum - a former palace, complete with orangery, gardens and stables, it now housed the priceless works of artists like Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele, Van Gogh, Ferdinand Georg Waldmuller, treasures from the Middle Ages, and multiple levels of contemporary works alongside the classics. It's funny because travel guides provide "itineraries" and according to this particular guide, it would take on average an entire day to tour the Belvedere. I did it in three and a half hours. And here lies one of the perks of traveling alone: you can take as much or as little time in each place as you like. You can see what tickles your fancy or take a passing glimpse at that which does not speak to you and move on; no opinions or permission required. You can stop for lunch or grab and go and be on your merry way to the next stop. The day's schedule always belongs only to you.
A quick aside, it bares to note that prior to visiting the Belvedere, I had never been a Klimt enthusiast until I drank in his most famous piece: The Kiss. I had seen replicas of course, but in person, up close, it was complex. I was mesmerized; lost even. Painted by oil on canvas this masterpiece was adorned with gold leaf, platinum and silver. The entire exhibition was stunning but this particular piece was indescribable. I stared at it for more than fifteen minutes and even after touring multiple other galleries and halls, I found myself in front of The Kiss again and again and again; each time more drawn in by its subtle details. Paralyzed by the talent and finesse of this masterpiece, it defined the museum for me - undoubtedly in my opinion, it was the Belvedere's pies de resistance.
That evening, famished, I phoned my sister-in-law who had visited Vienna with her family recently for a restaurant recommendation. She sang the praises of a subterranean restaurant with live music and traditional Austrian schnitzel. And bonus, it was only 400 yards from my hotel. I arrived, ordered my meal, and as the musicians began to play on accordions and violins in this cavernous place, tears were streaming down my face. I was weeping. Publicly. Then almost as suddenly as the tears came, I burst into jubilant laughter. I called her back and said, "I can't remember the last time I smiled like this. Smiled, FOR REAL! I am so blissfully happy in this moment; I am so grateful for this opportunity. I can't describe it. It is perfect. Thank you." And it was perfect because laughter through tears is my absolute favorite emotion and for me, that was a sure sign that I was exactly where I was meant to be.
The next five days felt like a blur. The evenly paved streets of Vienna, once ruled by the Hapsburg Dynasty, were easy to maneuver. Nothing like the unstable footpaths of Prague. It allowed me to energetically traverse the city in my signature checkered Vans at lightening speed. I checked every box and then some, visitng Shonbrunn Palace (an EPIC experience), the magnificent Opera House, Ringstrasse, the National Library, the reverent Gothic St. Micheal's Cathedral, Parliament, Hofburg Palace, St. Peter's Church, Stadtpark, the Danube River, Stephensplatz, the Natural History Museum, Museum Quartier, Kalskirche, a local jazz festival, the Spanish Riding School, every monument and stature across the entire city, the birthplace of composers such as Beethoven, Strauss and Schoenburg and of course in doing so, savored not only the city’s remarkably unique culture but also the best Turkish meal I have ever tasted. On more than one occasion. Vienna. . .meeting you. Surely this is what it feels like to fall in love.
Without a doubt Vienna has to date been one of THE most wonderful travel experiences of my lifetime. It was arresting; wondrous; emotional at times; hard and lonely at others,. But it was also romantic and full of promise and beauty as well. It was unforgettable to say the least. And because I saw everything on my “list,” in record time, I called an audible and booked a rail to see what else but the home of one of my favorite childhood movies, The Sound of Music. Tomorrow? Salzburg. A quick two hour train ride revealed one of THE quaintest, most charming towns I have ever set eyes upon. . .amid one of the most terrifying fortresses still standing, the most beautiful children's clothing boutiques and ivy-lined streets was also the birthplace of Mozart. Salzburg was quintessentially Austrian. Salzburg was the right call; an unforgettable detour.
But two days, and a short flight later, I arrived at my final destination: Croatia.
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