Austria Journal 8- Vienna pt 1

St. Stephen's Gothic cathedral

 The day began bright and early with a quick shower and breakfast before boarding the university buses. It was a brisk morning, but at our travel meeting the night before, Mr. Pipp (the jolly student life director) had promised us sunshine for our first overnight trip with the school. The ride was long, a few hours, and we arrived in Vienna well-rested. Or, at least I did. I have the wonderful ability to sleep anywhere and everywhere, both a blessing and a curse really, as this extends but is not limited to class, Mass, on top of my school books, and well, you get the picture.

     Vienna, on first observation (thankfully an observation I slept through) appeared to be filled with somewhat scandalous lingerie adds. This of course, did not set quite the tone for our day that we had been hoping, but the sight of church spires and the opera house somewhat alleviated our initial feelings of distrust. Fortunately, the ads seemed to decrease within the central part of the city. 
     The bus dropped us off by the opera house, and we made our way to a Franciscan church containing the crypt of the entire Hapsburg family. In case you are, as was I, completely ignorant of that which is Hapsburg, they basically are/were the ruling family of the Ostro-Hungarian Empire. It is from this line of royalty that Empress Maria Teresa of Austria comes, as well as her daughter Marie Antoinette (perhaps you’ve heard of her?) This church, the burial spot of kings, also forms the end of the Hapsburg burial procession. There is a nice little tradition connected with it that when the procession arrives at the doors, an old friar will answer the knock and ask who it is. The attendant names the royal dead with all of his or her titles, to which the friar replies, “I don’t know him/her.” This process is repeated until the attendant finally says, “This is so-and-so, a poor sinner in need of God’s mercy.”  I’m paraphrasing. Then the friar replies “Come in and welcome,” and the royal body is placed below in the crypt.

          We had Mass in this tradition-filled spot with the bones of kings resting beneath us. After Mass, we opted not to pay to see the crypt, but I’ve heard the tombs are gorgeous, encrusted with jewels and such. Instead, we joined up with Mr. Pipps walking tour of the city (we had him in Salzburg and really enjoyed his sense of humor and jovial presence amongst all the unfamiliarity of a European city).

          As we learned through the tour and the rest of our stay there, Vienna is known for

Polish King Jan III Sobieski, who saved Vienna in 1683 from invading Muslims and discovered coffee all in the same day

Alex in front of the Hapsburg Palace

its culture, especially music. This was apparent in the many red coat-tailed, be-wigged Mozart men that harangued every poor, impressionable tourist that so much as glanced their way. These imposters, who probably couldn’t carry a tune themselves, waved tickets to classical Viennese concerts, emphasizing to the aforementioned tourists that to not attend such an event would be akin to playing the Viennese waltz in 4/4 timing, thereby causing Mozart to roll over in his grave and bringing shame upon all things cultured and good. Likewise, the architecture was refined and only slightly less overbearing, having to it a sort of dignity, brought about partly by Gothic influence, partly by the touch of time. Our tour made its way down the main shopping drag, past the grounds and buildings of the Hapsburg Palace (their winter residence), near St. Stephen’s Cathedral, a massive gothic structure whose spires have pointed heavenward for centuries.

          Our tour ended at an old pub for lunch. Descending to the basement, a large beer hall, and down another flight to the second basement and a room full of tables, we glimpsed stones even older than St. Stephen's. The cellars date back to the 12^th century, and it was here, beneath arches that had supported the groaning beer hall tables above for nine centuries, that we were served our first real Wiener schnitzel (the mensa had served us something like it, but that doesn’t really count). Along with that, we ate soup, vinegar-soaked potato salad, and delicious apple strudel. Mark didn’t like the Wiener schnitzel (big surprise), but I did.

slightly blurry picture of the ancient
 restaurant basement

          We checked into our hostels after lunch and were then on our own to explore the city for the night. The hostels weren’t as bad as I expected, and Alex and I shared with two of our friends, Mary Grace and Evelyn, so we were at least in good company. Honestly, we hardly stopped there long enough to tell if the place was clean or not before rushing off to discover the Viennese metro system and figure out how to get into the standing room section of the opera. Along the way, we did end up talking to one of the red-coated fellows—several of them in fact—but one in particular chatted with us for a while, somehow managed to compliment everyone except Mark, and got about as close as anyone could have gotten to convincing us to buy concert tickets. We didn’t, however, and soon were in the queue to purchase 4 euro tickets to a legit opera in the opera house in Vienna. Granted, they were standing room spots, so by the end, our backs and feet were killing us, but it was, nonetheless, an opera. La Traviata, to be exact. I had seen this in Dayton a few years back (I mostly just remember that I couldn’t stop coughing and that I sounded more likely to die than the tragic heroine), but the acting in this production far surpassed the other. The set, on the other hand, certainly did not. In fact, it was really weird and lame. Actually, I have yet to see a show with a set that really surpasses those of the Schuster Center.

Inside the Vienna Operhouse 

Alex, Me, and Evelyn after the opera!

          The opera set the tone for the night, in more ways than one. On the one hand, it was exciting and fancy and fun to go out at night, dressed up, to a big opera house and experience such a show; on the other hand, standing in such a constricted space for 2 ½ hours brought misery upon my back for the rest of the night and the following day. That wasn’t enough to ruin a fun night, though. We ate dinner at a little café in St. Stephansplatz, the three of us (Mark, Alex, and me) but met up with some other opera-going friends for a bit after. Later, after walking most of the group back to the hostels, Mark, Katrina, Courtney, Caitlin, and I went out again, but by then most things were closed and we just made a brief stop at McDonald's before dragging ourselves through the maze of metro stops back to our hostels.

          Now, as this is the first recording of overnight stays, it must be made clear that I have a deathly fear of bedbugs. The others make fun of me for it, but I will not sleep in a hostel bed without first examining every inch of it multiple times, including various “surprise checks” throughout the night…just trying to catch the bugs off their guard! That night, about halfway through the night, I dreamt a bedbug was biting my knee. I actually felt the itch! Gasping, I leapt out of bed, and rushed to the light of the bathroom where I discovered no bug, no bite…no, not even an itch. Nevertheless, I still made sure to doubly investigate the scene of the illusory crime. Sure enough, no bugs. Mary Grace enjoyed relating this story the next morning, however, dramatizing my gasp just a bit. I’ll admit, since there was not actually a bedbug involved, it was funny...to be continued.

Austria Journal 7- Book Mountain

The c

One Wednesday afternoon, after cleaning the Mensa after

lunch, Alex hurried me into sporty clothes and down to the Spar where several of our spelunking friends, Katrina, Caitlin, Courtney, Mark, Evelyn, and Rachel were waiting to make the trek up Book Mountain, another one of the mini-mountains that surrounds Gaming. This particular climb actually included a path (as opposed to our spelunking/cliff climbing adventure) and led to a cell tower and a clearing of trees where Franciscan students have carved their names and signed a book for years.

Random uprooted tree. It's absence made a huge bowl in the ground

The path began at a set of metal stairs in some random Gaminginian’s backyard and zigzagged through a series of stations of the cross up to a beautiful scenic overlook where an iron cross perched on a rock jutting out over the picturesque landscape below. We spent a good half hour taking dramatic pictures here, most of which have adorned our facebooks and spurred even mere facebook acquaintances to comment in awe of the sheer natural beauty of it all combined with the powerful symbol of the Cross.

From there we continued on and up through a forest that looked like something straight out of Lord of the Rings. I felt like a hobbit making my way through Fangorn Forest, or Lothlorien, where the trees and terrain made me feel my smallness and insignificance in the face of such long-established parts of creation. We eventually reached a point of some confusion where some of our group decided to climb up the mountainside rather than search for the continuation of the path. I was among the sensible few who preferred to never experience such a climb again, so Mark, Courtney, Caitlin, Rachel, and I backtracked until we discovered a narrow, winding way that climbed steeply upward. This path was even more beautiful than the first and led us through glades of lush green, ethereal beams of sun slanting across the path at perfect angles for really interesting pictures.

 

The last few minutes led us up a quite steep but always climbable way and finally to the clearing where several Franciscan students were employed carving initials and symbols into the already full trees, signing the book, and searching for fellow student’s entries from years gone past. Unfortunately, the book only dated from 2011 because someone had removed the old Franciscan book (Too bad! I would have liked to find Aunt Ali!). We all signed the book and found stones to carve our names into the trees. I carved mine and Andrew’s names into the well-marked bark of one such tree while half of our group went off to find the cell tower that everyone climbs to get a really good view of Gaming.

Mine is the orangeish looking heart

When I finally finished etching my mark into the tree, it was nearing dusk. I ran to the cell tower and climbed about half-way up before being completely overcome by the sheer height of it all. I’m a big wimp. Our more brave friends (Katrina, Mark, and Caitlin) made it all the way to the top and they exclaimed for hours over the beauty of it all. It almost made me wish I had followed their example, but I have yet to overcome this fear of heights enough to embark on such a daring feat.

In our excitement, we lost track of time and soon discovered that it was nearly dark. Not nearly nervous enough, we began the trek down, following the path and praying a rosary along the way. At one point we entered a denser area of the forest and had to depend on someone’s iphone light to find our way. We joined hands and formed a human chain, still praying, until we emerged back at the bottom where the iron cross overlooked the village. Tiny lights sparkled up beneath us and we took a few moments to ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over it all before continuing on our way. At this point, someone had the idea of singing (probably me or Courtney) and we all joined in our favorite Les Mis and P&W songs. It turned our fear of the dark into fun and our tentative steps into confident ones and as we neared the bottom, I thought about how God shows us the bigger lessons of life through practical experiences. For instance, when we climbed the mountain to the caves, I learned that you just have to cling to what is concrete in life and keep climbing even through the unstable parts, keeping your eyes on your goal. On this hike, trusting God to guide us through the darkness, became the theme. There were parts of the forest so dark that all we could do was feel the person in front and behind us, but praying and knowing that God was there protecting us helped us to find our way out with the aid of just one tiny light to follow.

We finished off the night with Kebabs from the shop in town. They were so delicious after the exertion of another fun, full day in Gaming.

Austria Journal 6- Salzburg

Mozart's House

After sleeping through the Melk expedition on our first day here, Alex and I were determined not to make the same mistake for the second school outing: Salzburg. The trip was a one day affair, complete with mass, walking tour, and lunch paid for by the school, so we spent significant time the night before planning out all the things we wanted to do while in that ‘Sound of Music’ city.

I had been to Salzburg once before for a brief visit with my family at Christmas time, but the only memories that visit includes are a lot of images of walking through slush, a Native American street band, the lift up the fortress on the hill, and a story about a cow. It’s amazing what the human brain holds on to.

This trip proved distinctly different in that our day there was sunny and warm and much more action-packed. Following our arrival was the school-group portion of events: mass, tour, and lunch, which proved very helpful in getting an idea of the historical and spiritual significance of the city, not to mention helping us appreciate just how tasty German food is (Mark doesn’t really agree, so we’ve decided he has a strictly American palate).

After lunch, which was served in a huge hunting-lodge style hall on the second floor of a restaurant, we started out the self-planned part of our day with the trek up steeply inclined streets to the town fortress. We had learned in our tour that the fortress had never been taken by force and that the only time they had come close was when the defenders were slowly being starved out by an opposing army (I forget who, unfortunately). They were down to their last cow and things were looking desperate until someone devised the plan of promenading it along the battlements, then painting it a different color and repeating the procedure until the attacking soldiers were convinced there was no hope of ever starving out the fortress and gave up (this was the story I remembered from my previous visit).

The fortress

While climbing the hill to the fortress, it was somewhat hard to envision any army having the lung capacity to survive the charge into battle, let alone take the place, which made the stories of its impregnability seem very realistic. The fortress itself was a mish-mash of visitor-accesible spots, but it seemed that there must have been TONS that we weren’t allowed into, because what we saw was somewhat small and the overall structure was huge!

The Dom cathedral's gorgeous architecture and decor

We are the princesses of the castle!

 After ascending stone steps to one tower that was infested with a swarm of large gnat-like insects and where we hurriedly snapped a few squinty-eyed, closed-mouthed shots with the mountainous background, we made our way through a few museum displays on armor, excavations, and medieval torture. At this point, we were all ready to move on to our next planned stop in Salzburg: Nonnburg Abbey.

Maria Elena Von Trapp and Baby Mark Vontrapp
in the Salzburg fortress

Pious Mother Superior Alex turns away small,
petulant child ElenaVon Trapp

It was about this point that I began to discover my somewhat unexpected enjoyment and ease at reading maps. It turns out that my sense of direction isn’t altogether dreadful, either, so I gleefully led Alex and Mark along a stone path on the side of the fortress mountain that led to the abbey rumored to have been the place where the real Maria Von Trapp was a postulant. This rumor was disputed by some travel websites, and we never really found out if it was true, but we did enjoy the peaceful, darkness of the chapel, and after running into a few of our own TOR sisters who told us that the gate to the abbey was the same one where Mother Superior turns away the Von Trapp children in the movie when Maria is “in seclusion,” Alex and I made sure to snap a few pictures there too.

 Asthetic enjoyment at the Mirabell Gardens

Our unicorn went a little crazy...

The rest of the day included stops at the carefully laid out Mirabell gardens by the Mirabell palace, meeting up with some more of our friends, including Fr. Matt (who is just plain awesome, btw), and making our way to the Augustiner beer garden and brewery. This was an especially interesting experience, because not only did the garden seat close to 1000 people (and it was pretty full), nobody appeared to be obnoxiously intoxicated, despite the customary liter sized beer steins easily available for fairly cheap prices. The Europeans just take drinking differently. It truly seems like a cultural practice of fellowship for them, which makes it an enjoyable experience even to those who aren’t drinking (don’t worry, I was).

The Augustine Beer Garden

To order a beer, I had to go up and buy a ticket, then choose a half-liter or liter mug from the shelves and rinse it out in a fountain. Half liter was enough for me, especially when the beer guy generously filled me up, spilling a great deal of foam and beer in the process and thus ensuring that I got my money’s worth. There were several cheap food market stalls where I got sausage and a big pretzel and ta-da, a pretty typical German dinner. Yum.

A bridge full of love

We finished off the night by strolling along the river between tents set up to display a variety of wares (all overpriced) and buying some Mozart kugel: chocolate balls with several different layers of chocolate crème and marzipan inside, an Austrian thing (the Salzburg variety featuring pistachio flavored marzipan). The bus back was quiet as I wrote letters, looked at pictures, and talked about the day, although I heard one bus watched “Taken”…talk about a traumatic introduction to our stay in Europe. Altogether, it was quite the perfect first expedition, helping us look forward to many more to come.

Salzburg, ladies and gentlemen