I never thought I would have the luxury of saying "I'm talking a weekend trip to Vienna." but here in Europe you are given that luxury. It never fails to surprise me how close everything is, I can literally take a train and in an hour be in some new country.
This weekend I had decided to take a trip too see a friend that I was on exchange with two years ago in New Zealand. We worked out all the details and I caught a morning train from Salzburg to Vienna. I like trains when I know I am on the right one, and going to the right place. They are mellow, swaying gently, a subtle sound of the country side flying by. It rained when I sat there looking out the window, Yellow by Coldplay in my earbuds. The water streaking the glass caused the farms and city lights to be blurry as we hurtled our way though the land. It's funny how when you think about traveling, you always think of the destination, but never the actual process of getting there. I have since re-thunk my idea of the word "travel" because it's not all adventure. Sometimes you are just a person sitting alone on a train, staring out the window. And that's okay, it's not bad to have alone time to just think. But that part isn't always the adventure you tell yourself it will be. You are just existing there for a moment, and you will never see the people sitting next to you again, you just exist for a few hours, and the relationship you have with those around you is some casual small talk until you all put on headphones to sink off into your own mind.
Arrival was good, I met Bash at the station and we drove to his house. Vienna is beautiful, and so clean. The smells that waft around in the crisp November air are those of hot spiced wine, Christmas Strudel, horses and cured meats. The little markets that pop up everywhere are so elegant with twinkling lights strung about, and children laughing and eating beautifully made sweets. Europe has so much culture, it's so old and each new road leads to a story.
It was very cold, so we bundled up and went to meet Bash's grandparents for dinner. The waiter brought good wine, and Schnitzel, and we laughed and talked (me listening mostly, as my German is still terrible) and ate our food. The next day I got to see more of the city. Vienna is so incredible, the building are just so big. It's hard to truly explain how massive they are until you are standing right under the high towers and ascending steeples. We had an amazing Sushi lunch, and went shopping for clubbing. Bash had to go to visit his aunt so his mother took me to COS, a modern twist to classic apparel store and we found some cute things. I was feeling good until I looked at the price tags. Deciding it would be an early Christmas present I went ahead and bought a dress for that night. Bastian's mother bought me a beautiful gold dress and sphere necklace as a gift and we were on our way to the grocery store. This wasn't any normal food store that you would find. It was two story, with an elevator that you fit your cart into. Every kind of food you can imagine was there, it was like Trader Joe's on steroids. I had discussed cooking brunch for them the next day as it was her Birthday on Monday, so it would be an early celebratory meal. We bought so much food.
Clubbing in Austria is something that you should definitely do at least once in your lifetime. The smokey, pink lit room that contains young adults is like a new planet. Occasionally the servers would walk through with burning sparklers, held high above the pulsing crowd. They carried them as though it was a ritual commanded by a higher being, the whole place shimmering with spirited vigor. We danced until 5:30 am, when we finally decided to get some fresh air. Shivering, we stood in a huddled group. People just disappear when it's late, no explanation, or goodbye. They just vanish, and it's normal to move on to the next place of interest.
Our next place was Eddi's house, where we tried to make a six-am drunken breakfast. Between eating caviar on bread and chopping potatoes, we managed to get some food down us. I was so tired that standing was effort, and deciding it would be in my best interest to lay down for a little bit, I crashed on a bed.
I don't know if it was the sun that just starts to peek through the window into the grey sky, or the political discussions about Syria and Russia, but I felt alive at six in the morning. This is what living is, to be so tired but happy that you made it until morning. This is the kind of night you won't tell your kids about until they are old enough to understand that love doesn't just come from falling in love. It comes from those moments where you find yourself completely and passionately talking about something you care about. It comes from those moments where you accept and feel accepted by those around you. Love isn't just a feeling towards someone, love is a moment.
This weekend I had decided to take a trip too see a friend that I was on exchange with two years ago in New Zealand. We worked out all the details and I caught a morning train from Salzburg to Vienna. I like trains when I know I am on the right one, and going to the right place. They are mellow, swaying gently, a subtle sound of the country side flying by. It rained when I sat there looking out the window, Yellow by Coldplay in my earbuds. The water streaking the glass caused the farms and city lights to be blurry as we hurtled our way though the land. It's funny how when you think about traveling, you always think of the destination, but never the actual process of getting there. I have since re-thunk my idea of the word "travel" because it's not all adventure. Sometimes you are just a person sitting alone on a train, staring out the window. And that's okay, it's not bad to have alone time to just think. But that part isn't always the adventure you tell yourself it will be. You are just existing there for a moment, and you will never see the people sitting next to you again, you just exist for a few hours, and the relationship you have with those around you is some casual small talk until you all put on headphones to sink off into your own mind.
Arrival was good, I met Bash at the station and we drove to his house. Vienna is beautiful, and so clean. The smells that waft around in the crisp November air are those of hot spiced wine, Christmas Strudel, horses and cured meats. The little markets that pop up everywhere are so elegant with twinkling lights strung about, and children laughing and eating beautifully made sweets. Europe has so much culture, it's so old and each new road leads to a story.
It was very cold, so we bundled up and went to meet Bash's grandparents for dinner. The waiter brought good wine, and Schnitzel, and we laughed and talked (me listening mostly, as my German is still terrible) and ate our food. The next day I got to see more of the city. Vienna is so incredible, the building are just so big. It's hard to truly explain how massive they are until you are standing right under the high towers and ascending steeples. We had an amazing Sushi lunch, and went shopping for clubbing. Bash had to go to visit his aunt so his mother took me to COS, a modern twist to classic apparel store and we found some cute things. I was feeling good until I looked at the price tags. Deciding it would be an early Christmas present I went ahead and bought a dress for that night. Bastian's mother bought me a beautiful gold dress and sphere necklace as a gift and we were on our way to the grocery store. This wasn't any normal food store that you would find. It was two story, with an elevator that you fit your cart into. Every kind of food you can imagine was there, it was like Trader Joe's on steroids. I had discussed cooking brunch for them the next day as it was her Birthday on Monday, so it would be an early celebratory meal. We bought so much food.
Clubbing in Austria is something that you should definitely do at least once in your lifetime. The smokey, pink lit room that contains young adults is like a new planet. Occasionally the servers would walk through with burning sparklers, held high above the pulsing crowd. They carried them as though it was a ritual commanded by a higher being, the whole place shimmering with spirited vigor. We danced until 5:30 am, when we finally decided to get some fresh air. Shivering, we stood in a huddled group. People just disappear when it's late, no explanation, or goodbye. They just vanish, and it's normal to move on to the next place of interest.
Our next place was Eddi's house, where we tried to make a six-am drunken breakfast. Between eating caviar on bread and chopping potatoes, we managed to get some food down us. I was so tired that standing was effort, and deciding it would be in my best interest to lay down for a little bit, I crashed on a bed.
I don't know if it was the sun that just starts to peek through the window into the grey sky, or the political discussions about Syria and Russia, but I felt alive at six in the morning. This is what living is, to be so tired but happy that you made it until morning. This is the kind of night you won't tell your kids about until they are old enough to understand that love doesn't just come from falling in love. It comes from those moments where you find yourself completely and passionately talking about something you care about. It comes from those moments where you accept and feel accepted by those around you. Love isn't just a feeling towards someone, love is a moment.