2012_11_01 Part 2 Vienna money changers, tickets and hosts

The next morning on the bus to leave town for Vienna, I created a sensation when my yogurt drink wet the floor but I had a roll of TP to clean up the damage. I raced to catch the bus to the metro to the bus and noticed many windmills in the Austrian countryside. 

My young Viennese hostess had her aunt's birthday party to attend and I'm afraid I delayed her. I had Euro bills but not small enough for the Metro machines and had to brush up my German and beg strangers to change them. I am a poor map reader and had to ask someone to phone my hostess. She rescued me a block from her flat and left me with her cats and computer and a vegan apple cake she made and went to her party. She had wanted to take me but her aunt was no open-minded Couchsurfer; it might have been embarassing to be the stranger crashing the party so I left the bottle of decent wine with Petra. My luggage was already too heavy and the pulls of the rolling suitcase broke completely so dragging it is awkward, it keeps flipping, catching on my feet and straining my back. Now I'm waiting for the zipper to break.

My hostess Mira told me she dropped out of school after a serious auto accident and gets up very early to work in an office, but will eventually return to college. She has all the videos of Breaking Bad, In Treatment, Weeds and more, and a nifty coffee machine with instructions for Couchsurfers. She also has Lonely Planet Vienna and helpful maps for exploring the city's riches.

The next day I took the Metro into the center of Vienna and emerged at St Stephen's Square where men in red cloaks and costumes were selling tickets to classical music concerts. First I had to get some Euros - the banks seemed to offer better rates than the change stands - then I couldn't find the young man I wanted to get the ticket from, and got it from another who assured me it was the same thing, then found the first, who forgave me, I imagine all the operations are similar. They promise you opera, ballet and orchestra and you get five people on strings, a piano, a flute, a singer, and two quasi ballet-dancers on the postage-stamp-sized stage in an old palace where Mozart once performed. Every old chestnut associated with Vienna was trotted out from Blue Danube to Wien Wien Nur Du Allein, which brought tears to these old eyes.

I passed the Spanish riding school, speaking of ballet (by horses), (which my niece teaches) and huge statues in dramatic poses over fountains lit up in the night. I was wearing my Obama '08 t-shirt and more than one unkind Austrian youth sneered, "Romney! Romney! or as I think of him, "Rawmoney. Rawmoney." I read the transcript of the debate online I wasn't going to stay up all night to see it.

Again I took dozens of photos of fierce men of stone holding up building facades, naked nymphs, lion faces, the Viennese are over the top! The big art museum was closed for the day so I headed for the Leopold's extensive collection, old and new, introducing me to Egon Schiele, a unique talent who died too young, and a special on the male nude (a t-shirt on one classical statue, jockey shorts on another, even a Mapplethorpe) and then a disappointing visit to Momek, with two floors of fluorescent lightbulbs (that's art?) and exhibits and videos of very slight interest. I was never more disappointed in a museum. 

I cooked kasha and beans for Mira and we watched an old Austrian thriller with subtitles she'd seen many times before.The cats loved sniffing my baggage, nesting in the plastic bags and one even chased her tail repeatedly.

The next day I returned to the biggest museum, with room after room of paintings, special Klimt frescoes in the ceiling, dozens of Egyptian mummies...a full day of cultural enrichment.

I had bought a 3-day transit pass and neglected to mention to Mira I hoped to stay another night to get full use out of it, but she had another couchsurfer coming. Kate In Prague was expecting me so I charged off to the bus station to be sure of a ticket, after a morning visit to the Art Nouveau Secession museum to see the Klimt in the basement and then raced to Sigmund Freud's home and office, tarrying too long to be in time for the Spanish riding school tour of the stables at 2pm. So I rode the tram through the old city for an hour, then found the 3pm English tour sold out. I dared not wait for the 4 pm tour with a bus leaving at six, so I headed back to Mira's for the last time for my luggage, and made the four hour trip to Prague.