Vienna

As a spoiled traveler type who got an A in Geography and can identify all 40+ European countries by their capital city in under six minutes, I’m ashamed to tell you that I spend an entire day thinking Vienna was in Switzerland. As I noted before this trip, I hadn’t paid attention to where we were going. Ellen simply told me to pack for moderate weather and to bring a swimsuit and so I did. If you had ever thought to ask me where Vienna is, I’d have told you it was in Austria. While my plane ticket said Vienna my brain was registering Zurich and I told numerous people that day that I was on my way to the Swiss cheese capital. Imagine my confusion to discover that I was actually a whole country to the right.

I found out I was in Austria because of a cab driver name Gunther. Gunther met Ellen and me at the airport under the guise of driving us to our hotel. Ellen had arranged this before we even left home and while Ellen is a magnificent trip planner she is not immune to scams and general gullibility. (Did we ever tell you she tried to order a puppy from Africa?) So when Gunther stood happily with a sign that said ‘Villard’, Ellen galloped towards him, handed over our luggage, and followed his lead.

Prior to leaving for this trip Mom and Dad switched roles. Mom told us to have a great time and make lots of friends while Dad pointed out lots of negative and potentially dangerous things. And I quote:

“Listen girls, you two, you’re targets. Pretty American girls on vacation - they’ll see you coming. Now, Eastern Europe, it’s a mecca for trafficking. They take women and children and they sell them to the sex trade. Keep your eyes open. Watch people. Ask questions. Why is that guy wearing a big coat if everyone else is wearing t-shirts? Know where your exits are. Watch traffic. People are driving over tourists now. Remember, you are a target. Have a great time!” and he kissed us goodbye and sped away from the airport curb.

Gunther hastily lead us in the opposite direction of the airport exit signs. He hustled passed the taxi stands and airport shuttles and corralled us into a long, dimly lit hallway where there were no other signs of human life. I became suspicious of Gunther. Ellen looked at me with false confidence. I’m certain she was reading my face for worry and we both gave each other fake encouraging smiles.

Gunther was sweating. “Ever been to Austria before?” Gunther asked, slightly out of breath. Thinking I was in Switzerland, I thought this was an odd question. I didn’t respond to Gunther. Instead I glared at him, hoping he would rethink his plan to kidnap us because I looked mean and capable. Ellen partook in chitchat with Gunther while we hurried down the hallway. I was just about to pipe up about my worry when Gunther suddenly picked up our suitcases and darted down a staircase as fast as I’ve ever seen stairs descended. Something came over me and I became enraged by the gall of Gunther so I took off after him. I shouted, “Ellen! Hurry!” and I jumped down stairs two at a time trying to catch up to him. Ellen seemed confused, possibly because she’s never seen me react to anything in the last 27 years. I was closing in on Gunther, determined to get our belongings and rid us of his presence. Now I’m not exaggerating here, I reared back when I had four stairs left. I was preparing to lunge onto Gunther’s back. He’d never see it coming. And as my momentum shifted and my first foot left the stair, Gunther turned around to wait for us. Suddenly tackling Gunther didn’t seem like a necessary activity. He’s just standing there, smiling politely. Though my feet were soaring over the bottom three stairs, I reached back for the handrail and whipped myself around and slid down those last few steps.

Gunther rushed over. “Oh careful. Don’t go so fast!” and he helped me to my feet.

As it turns out, Gunther is a real sweetheart. He parks somewhere farther away than the taxi park because it allows him to go around airport traffic. Gunther told us all about Vienna and his daughters and he felt like an old friend by the time he dropped us off at our hotel. I spent the rest of the day quite tickled that I nearly tackled that man.

Ellen and I came into Vienna a day early so that we had a moment to get adjusted and look around before we took the bus out of town. While extended periods of time on airplanes can’t be ideal even for the overachievers up in first class, my flight over was easy and went by fairly quickly. Ellen forgot to take her contacts out and they shriveled and dried and stuck to her eyeballs (or something like that) and she had a red eye for several days. Ellen became consumed by her red eye and spent all down time staring at it and asking me if it was less red now. How about now? Is it still red?

We decided Mom would be disappointed with us if we didn’t use our one full afternoon in Vienna to go out and look around. We were both dreadfully tired and the last thing I felt compelled to do was wander aimlessly with a sleepy Ellen. (A volatile mix.) But as luck would have it, we suited up, headed out, and immediately found ourselves as serendipitous onlookers of the Naked Gay Pride Bike Parade.

I had always wondered how men sit on bike seats. Turns out there is myriad of ways.

We wandered, snacked, tried schnitzel (Ellen choked on some sauerkraut and I was nearly hysterical with terror), had an Austrian beer, and were back in bed by 8:30.

The next day we made a trip to the royal family’s summer palace and Ellen was surprisingly delighted by it. We really went there for me to see the flowers but Ellen came alive and took tons of photos.

In the afternoon we went over to the hostel where we met with our tour group. Meeting 50 people in one day is a tough undertaking but the lot of us went to dinner and Ellen and I met an important trip character, a 20 year old yankee boy named Bradley.

Bradley is so hopelessly Yankee that you can’t avoid loving him. He has slicked back black hair, a reactive disposition, and an accent that would rival Ray Ramano. He is a caricature and a cliché and I wanted nothing more than to be near Bradley when he experienced something new for the first time. Bradley loved Ellen and me and followed us around because “we gotta represent da USA baby!” We were all instant pals and I’ll tell you more about him as we go but here he is giving Ellen a look.