We went back to the hostel, picked up a Brit named Craig, and got a taxi to Morrison’s Music Pub. The place was completely packed. I talked with two Italians for a while and ended up sitting with a guy from Budapest and a girl named Sylvia who was Hungarian but who grew up in Sweden. I got back to the hostel around 4:00.
Thursday, August 12th — Budapest, Hungary
I’m now on a train bound for Vienna. Yesterday, Liam and I got up and went to take care of the things we needed to do in order to go to Romania. First, we went to the train station. The woman we talked to said that tickets would cost $63US from the border to Bucharest. That sounded ridiculously expensive to us. We then went to the Romanian embassy to get visas. The guy we talked to said we couldn’t get visas until later in the week. At this point, I pretty much nixed the idea of going to Romania. Liam planned on getting a visa at the border, but I was a little sketched about that. I’d had enough trouble traveling to Prague without a ticket that I didn’t relish the idea of traveling to Bucharest without a visa.
We went to the Millennium Monument and saw the changing of the guard, complete with goose-stepping and all. We then went to find a bath house. We found one, but didn’t end up going in as they wanted a deposit that was more money than we had on us. We had dinner at our restaurant and then Liam caught his train. I hope everything works out for him. I went back to the hostel and tried to get in touch with Torbjorn, my Swedish friend from Paris. I thought maybe I’d swing up to Scandinavia. I talked with his father who said that he was in Lulea, where he goes to school way up north. That night I crashed early and I felt good and rested for the first time in a while this morning.
Saturday, August 14th — Vienna, Austria
I’m in the Post Hotel in the center of old Vienna. It’s my third day here and I’m taking the night train to Munich tonight. The train ride to Vienna from Budapest was pretty boring. I sat between two couples that weren’t very interested in making conversation. I booked a room in this hotel from the train station. It cost me $48, but I figured I deserved a break from the hostel lifestyle. My room is nice, if small, and the hotel is really well located. I’m only about a five minute walk from Stephansplatz, where St. Stephen’s cathedral, the most famous building in Vienna, is. About five minutes from there is the imperial palace and a bit farther from there is the Rathaus.
I didn’t do much my first day here. I went to Stadtpark and walked around a bit. I bought groceries and had a feast in my room. I wandered around Stephansplatz, the palace, and the Rathaus. The Roncalli circus was in town and was set up in front of the Rathaus.
The next day, I had breakfast in the hotel and went to the Rathaus to try to get a ticket for Don Giovanni. It was being performed that evening in the Romaniche Ruin at Schonnbrun Palace (the summer residence of the Habsburgs). It turned out that I couldn’t get tickets there, but the woman offered to sell me a ticket to an orchestra concert that evening in the Rathaus courtyard. I still had my heart set on Don Giovanni, so I continued searching for a place that sold tickets. I finally found it just around the corner from my hotel, but all they had left were the most expensive seats. They were too expensive for my budget, especially considering that I don’t even like opera that much. So, I went back to the Rathaus and bought a ticket for the orchestra concert. I also decided that I was going to go see the circus, so I bought the cheapest ticket I could.
I went to the Kunsthistorishe Museum (the museum of fine arts) and saw lots ‘o paintings. It wasn’t terribly interesting. Mostly the same old stuff I’ve seen time and time again. They had some nice Bruegles, though. I went to the Staatsoper and toured the famous opera house. The opera isn’t in session during the summer, so I couldn’t see a performance, but the building itself was very impressive.
Afterward, I went to the circus! It was a blast!! My seat was in the back, but that wasn’t a big deal as the tent wasn’t that large. They had clowns, tightrope acts, swinging from ropes, juggling, horse riding, you name it. I may have missed some of the clowns humor as everything was in German, but I think most of it was pretty self-explanatory. The horse trainer/rider was a stunningly beautiful woman. I found myself wanting to run away and join the circus, but I couldn’t think of any service I could possibly perform.
That evening, I went to the concert at the Rathaus. I was a little disappointed at first when I discovered that they were a youth orchestra, but that quickly faded when I found out how good they were. Great music in a great setting. I finished out the evening by going to a downtown wine cellar. They serve wine in mugs like beer and have outdoor seating areas much like German beer gardens. I tried some of the local white wine and quite liked it.
Saturday, August 14th — Vienna, Austria
I’m at the train station waiting for the train to Paris. I had a pretty boring day today. I went to the museum of applied art and found it less that riveting. It was mostly historical furniture and bizarre art nouveau stuff. I wanted to see some paintings by Klimt, so I asked the woman at the reception desk where I should go. She told me that I should go to the Kunthistorishe Museum, but I’d already been there and hadn’t seen anything by Klimt. Oh well. I tried to find Sigmund Freud’s house, but failed. I did, however, find Sigmund Freud park.
I went to Schonnbrun, the palace where the Habsburgs spent the summer. It reminded me a lot of Versailles. Very pretty gardens. Afterward I went to a park on the bank of the Danube. It was a hot, sunny Saturday so the place was packed with sunbathers in various states of undress. I went to the Volksgarten and crashed in the grass for a few hours. I watched street performers for a while in Stephensplatz, including the required Peruvians. I’ve seen so many of them in Europe so far that I could probably join in on their songs by now. I went back to my hotel where I had a beer, packed my bags, and left for the station.
Saturday, September 25th — Paris, France
Well, they say that everything comes full circle. I certainly have. After almost three months of trapsing around Europe, I’m back where I started — in Paris.
When I went to catch my train in Bordeaux, I ran into the Swedish girl, Helen. It turned out that she was headed for Paris as well. The TGV was quite fast, but not particularly awesome. A guy could get sick watching the landscape blur by, though. When we arrived in Paris, Helen and I booked into a hostel. I’d paid for two nights before seeing the place, and regretted it. It turned out to be a residence hall that rents out rooms during the summer when many of the students are gone. There was no life in the place at all.
We had a beer and a sandwich in a local bar and then went and explored around Notre Dame. We had dinner in a nice restaurant complete with a nice bottle of wine (in Paris, gotta do it).
The next morning, I decided that even though I’d paid for another night I was going to switch to another place to stay. With only a few days left in my vacation, I can’t affored to be in a place that’s no fun. I’m now staying a Jules Ferry, one of the main hostels in Paris. It’s much more active here. I had fun getting here, though. The metro station didn’t have a ticket machine that I could find, and I was in a rush (hostels fill up), so I jumped the turnstile. It was my first time traveling without paying on the Paris metro. I’d done it regularly in other cities, but things are more difficult in Paris. Getting off proved difficult, as I had to get through these doors that open briefly when you insert a ticket and then immediately shut again. I solved this problem by following VERY closely behind a person in front of my. I just barely got my backpack through in time.
I checked into the hostel and then went to the Louvre. I didn’t really want to go, but I felt somewhat duty bound. It was impressive, but there wasn’t much I really liked except for some really nice ancient Greek sculpture. The French art was to old for me — it left off at about the point in time where I start getting interested. I saw the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. The only impressive thing was that so many people were crowded around to see the paintings.
Afterward I went to Musee d’Orsay and fell in love. What a great place! Exactly the kind of stuff I like. It was even better than usual, because there was a special exhibition of a bunch of paintings from the collection of a Dr. Barnes (don’t know who he is, but he must be rich) in Philly. Many Renoirs, Monets, Picassos, etc.
Now it was time to go souvenier shopping. I bought a T-shirt with the Paris metro on it and a sweatshirt. I bought an old map of Paris from one of the booksellers that set up along the Seine.
Back at the hostel I met some Americans. We talked about going to see some blues or jazz, but they didn’t want to go out until the next day or so. I felt like going somewhere, so I decided to walk over to a jazz club called the New Morning. I’d heard it was pretty expensive, but I figured I’d go check it out anyway. When I got there, I saw that Kenny Neal, the guitar player I’d missed in Bordeaux, was playing. I decided it was fate and that I’d shell out the steep (110ff/$22) cover. At the door, I asked a man what time it was. “Quel heure et il?? I asked, in my best French. “About 8:30,” came the response in English. Oh well, at least I tried.
I had time for dinner, so I went to a Lebonese restaurant I’d seen on my way over. As I started to eat, I noticed that the people sitting at the next table were speaking English and appeared to be from the South. It turned out to be the band! I talked with the keyboard player a bit, and finished my meal
Back at the club, I ran into the guy who I’d asked the time of. I ended up sitting with him and his wife and a friend of theirs. He was French, but his wife and their friend were from England. The show started, and Kenny could really play guitar! It turned out that he’d been on a tour of France and Africa and they were going back to Louisiana the next morning. Since it was their last day on the tour, they pulled out all the stops. Kenny played guitar, bass, harmonica, and sang well. His brothers played bass and keys. The drummer had played with James Cotton and the Steve Miller Band. It was a really high-energy, free-flowing concert.
After the show, I walked back to the hostel. I chatted with some people for a while and then crashed. The next morning, I missed breakfast by about five minutes. I went to the Center de Pompidou. It’s a really weird building with all of the plumbing on the outside. There was an architecture exhibit that didn’t thrill me too much, but it also contained the Musee d’Art Moderne which I really enjoyed. Afterward I went to the Rodin museum. It was extremely impressive. It’s located in a large house, and contains almost all of Rodin’s famous works (including his famous “The Thinker”). The larger works are located in the gardens outside, and the smaller sculptures are in various rooms of the house. The museum also had several works by Rodin’s student, Camille Claudelle, that I recognized from the movie of the same name.
After leaving the museum, I went to the famous Pere Lachaise cemetery where many famous people are buried. The most popular grave is that of Jim Morrison, and it is never without a surrounding crowd of adoring fans.
And thus my journal ends — a bit abruptly. There was a little adventure still to come: almost missing my flight back to the US due to a time change in France, spending the night in LA International Airport, and hitching a ride to San Diego with some crazy antique dealers. But by the time I had a chance to write about it, I was back in everyday “Academic Life” and couldn’t be bothered.
Hope you enjoyed my little tale,
Kyle