Cold Whooping Swiss

On New Year's Eve Day we went to Lucerne and it turned out to be one of our favorite cities. We took a short tour of the glacier garden. It was interesting, but not terribly well curated which is strange because it has been a museum for over 100 years.


We lunched on the banks of Lake Lucerne on food we had pilfered from breakfast. Especially creative, Jason made dessert of open-faced Nutella and banana on challah sandwiches.

We walked over the Kapellbrucke a 14th century wooden bridge and saw crazy swiss people jumping into frigid water austensibly to celebrate the new year. They were whooping and sharing champagne. We weren't sure if they were whooping in celebration or chill.


The city is ringed by a medieval wall with sporatic watchtowers. We walked along the wall, but the towers were closed for the winter. High on the top of the hill there was an amazing view of the city. I can't figure out how to post video so when we film one I'm going to upload it to YouTube.


Most of the stores were closed for New Year's Eve, but the window shopping was still good. People in Switzerland must have a lot of liquid capitol. There are more collectibles stores there than anywhere else that we've been. There were philatelist's shops, numismatist's shops (yeah, just wanted to use those words), art galleries, shops that sold music boxes, musical instruments, doll house furniture, antique maps...

I feel sorry for the bears

Berne is a lovely city, but whats up with the fat caged bears? It made me kind of sad to see the bears sitting in their little habitats catching carrots in thier mouths. I didn't want to take a picture because somehow that was, in itself, supporting this sad spectacle.

Mostly we walked around the city and along the river. We tried to see Einstein's House, but it was closed for the winter. For lunch we had the most expensive street tacos in the universe. I think three tacos were something like $10 or $12. Perhaps we hadn't dressed warmly enough, but by the midafternoon we were freezing, literally. I don't think either of us could feel our toes. At one point we stood in the foyer of a modern art exhibit just so we could defrost our feet on the baseboard heater.

On the train ride home, while reading all the tourist flyers, I realized we had missed what could have been the highlight of our trip. The Paul Klee Museum. Live and learn.

Zurich

We got to Zurich between noon and one, found our hotel and discovered the city. On the train to St. Anton we met a couple, Jeff and Claire, from Houston who lived in Zurich. They had just returned from skiing and gave us a bunch of great recommendations of places to eat and things to do. For dinner we found the brat stand they recommended across from the Bellevue tram station and it was awesome as advertised.

Jason was nervous the entire afternoon until we figured out the exchange rate. The dollar is very close to the Swiss frank, but things are insanely expensive. A soda is SFr 5. It seems as though there are sex shops everywhere. Maybe its just where Jason and I happen to hang out, but the posters are nasty and plentiful.


On top of the city, at Lindenhof on a site that used to be a Roman fort, are a bunch of chess boards and old guys playing chess.




a little Calatrava train station

The wonder of a good bubblebath....

our hotel with the mountains in the background.



Jason skied in the morning and in the afternoon we walked and took pictures. As I mentioned before there isn’t much snow. I can imagine how beautiful this place is when it is covered in a thick blanket of white. It would also be incredible in the summer. I think we will take a spring trip to the lake region. We’ll be able to see the Alps in green and the lakes on our way to Italy.

Shaken but not stirred

Jason and I went skiing in the morning to ascertain whether or not it would be prudent for me to get a lesson or if I was truly not as bad as I thought, and later turned out to be. I haven’t skied, I think, since my mother and I went to Whistler for a day in high school. Jason skied 5 years ago. Granted, it was in the Poconos, but he skied nonetheless. Due to an unusally mild winter here the slopes are icy and new snow is being made all the time. This snow is wet, compact, and it sticks to your glasses as you ski by.

There are three levels of sane skiing here and two levels of insane skiing. Blue is beginner, red is intermediate and black is black-diamond. These are ski runs. There are also ski routes, red-diamond and red-diamond with a black outline marked by a dotted rather than solid line. These trails are neither patrolled nor avalanche proof. There are also Alpine routes marked by a dashed dotted line on the map. They require an authorized guide. I believe there are also three helicopter drop places. Beginner doesn't necessarily mean easy. Nevertheless, lines of little kids in jumpers and vests slalom down the slope making long helmeted snakes, jumping over moguls and crashing into eachother. No fear.

The first time down the hill was fine. One section (blue run 4) was scary, because it was narrow, steep, and icy, but there were only a few people on it. The second time, people were perched at the top, afraid to go down. It was peppered with beginners who were sliding down sideways taking all the top man-made snow with them and leaving even more ice for those hesitating at the top. I am afraid of ice, but I am more afraid of people who stop for no reason right in front of me. I am no Pekabo and I can neither turn nor stop on a dime. But Jason, who (have I mentioned) is awesome, was waiting for me at the bottom of the narrow death trap so I tried actually skiing on my skis, instead of my butt, down the hill. That was my first mistake.

About half way down I hesitated (second mistake), slipped and fell- tips uphill ass downhill- and proceeded to slide. I threw out my hands like grappling hooks in an attempt to slow or even stop. Icy snow came away like nothing and I continued to slide over the edge, head first, into a snowy 15 foot ravine. Parts of the rocky side peeked out and in a moment of clarity I thrust my arm out in front of me figuring a broken arm would be far better than a broken head. Luckily, I hit neither arm nor head and came to a stop at the bottom. I had left only my pride and one pole on the hill above. A woman who had seen me fall brought my pole to Jason as she skied past. Shaken, but not stirred, I walked back to the run and we skied down the mountain. At the bottom we signed up for an afternoon lesson.

St. Anton

The village is concurrently quaint and kind of macho. The excitement of sweat and athleticism pervades the air as bands of fleece-clad people swagger past still in their boots carrying their skis or boards. Not only the ski instructors, but also all kinds of other people wear uniform-like outfits of bright colors and stripes that make them look fast even in clunky ski boots. Of course, I just looked out the window and a guy clicked by in a Packers jersey and yesterday there was a group of skiers in cow costumes. But, when we checked in Brigitte Falch, the owner of the hotel, was suggesting restaurants to us and, in response to my comment that we weren’t dressed for a fancy dinner, said that we were in a ‘sport resort’ and that it was generally come-as-you-are. Sport resort is a phase that captures the feeling of the place. Everyone is here to do something. It feels the way I might expect an Olympic village to feel only muted- and I don’t think there are little kids with tiny little skis and bright yellow vests making their serpentine way down those slopes
.
The hotel is gorgeous. It is all wood and glass and clean rectilinear surfaces with sliding walls and sliding glass doors and deep white bathtubs that slope on both sides and fill in the middle. The ceiling in the lobby is plywood and our beds are modern planes of goose-filled cream puffs. After all the problems and wasted money and self-deprecation about this trip, this particular waste of money was well worth it.

Nosebleed seats..still a good deal

The Opera House was premiering a ballet that night so we decided to go and check out the nosebleed seats. Not a bad view and we learned a new trick. I took the aisle space. I could sit down, as long as my feet weren't on the stairs, and watch down the aisle.

After the show we had Sacher Torte at the Sacher Hotel. Where else?

an evening with Napoleon

The Christmas market was abandoned, but behind the stalls in front of the French consulate was this whimsical staue. In fact, there were whimsical statues throughout the old city. There was one of a man with a hardhat emerging from a manhole. We didn't photograph any of the others as there was often a line to do so. But this one, secreted behind the silent stalls seemed like a find.

The Fruits of Communism...

Across the Danube, stretching to the horizon, lay rows and rows of, dare I say, ugly mid-rise something. Is it housing? It is office space? Is it industry? We don't know.



And on this side something was on fire. We had to take a picture. We're American tourists.

Christmas in Bratislava

Have I mentioned how difficult it is to travel around Christmas? I used to travel on Christmas Eve with my family. On our way to Taos or Palm Springs I remember thinking how it was probably the only night of the year that there was a 45-minute wait at Denny's.




On Christmas we went to Bratislava. It was closed. I don’t think it would been such a disappointment except for the fact that it was really cute. Or at least, I think it was really cute. It appeared to be really cute. The only places that were open to eat served salty fried tourist food for twice the price of real food. The restaurant Lauren suggested was insultingly closed. The weather didn’t cooperate and kept us from going to Devin castle (Hrad), the one castle that Lauren said was worth the trip. Each day presents a new opportunity to begin again and enjoy the adventure of the day. And sometimes it feels as if each day I fail miserably at making the most of it

Half Days

Perhaps the key to touring on Christmas Eve is to experience a culture where they open presents on Christmas Day instead of Christmas Eve. Austria closed early on Christmas eve. We walked around a bit, visited a castle or two, walked around the Museum Quartier (most of which was unfortunately closed), spent an hour or so perusing the Ancient Egypt and Hellenic section of the Natural History Museum (until they kicked us out), and then spent a good portion of the evening trying to find dinner. We ended up going to Weinerwald. Thank goodness for Lauren.

Vienna Nacht Streetscape

Scarves only!!!

There are some super secret double probation methods to getting a good standing room space at the opera. We learned them the hard way (Jason with constant elbows to the ribs from some woman who was sharing a space with her friend) and I will share them with you now.

1. Go early with at least one friend.
2. Bring something, NOT a sweater, that can be tied to the railing to mark your place. NOT a sweater. You may bring a string, a scarf, a hair extension but NOT a sweater. And you may NOT save more than one space with one hangy item.
3. Once you have chosen your price range (2.50 or 3.00 Euro- 3.00 is for the floor and 2.50 is for the nose bleeds) give your coat to your friend. You may not take your coat into the house. Have them check it in while you run dont walk to the location your space.
4. Be "Filene's Basement on wedding dress day" tough.
5. Push your way to the best seat possible. Tie your scarf, string, hair extension onto the railing at your given space and then wait.

Best thing about spending less than $5 on an opera ticket: you feel absolutely no compunction about leaving at halftime.

Heisse Maroni

Our hotel was perfect. It could not have been better situated. It was half a block from the Naschmarkt (where Jason and I ate dripping donner kebobs (gyros) while standing at the end of the block before the concert the night before) and no more than 5 minutes from most everything in downtown Vienna.



Today we went to the Schoenbrunn Schloss the winter palace of the Hapsburgs.


In the courtyard we sampled the most traditional Christkindlmarkt in Vienna but by no means the largest. I am almost embarassed to say that the entire time we were in Austria we never sampled the punsch. We aren't really big drinkers but given Jasons love of Manishevitz I think he might have really enjoyed a mug or two.

Later that afternoon, both in order to defrost a little and to learn a thing or two, we took a tour of the Opera House.

The stage is only dark two nights during the season: Christmas Eve and March 26 (something to do with Mahler- neither the anniversary of his birth or death though. I should have been listening more closely during the tour). They produce a different opera or ballet every single night. Jason and I decided to buy standing room tickets, the best deal in Europe by the way, later that night. They were doing Romeo and Juliet and we thought it was worth 2.50 Euro.

We stayed close and went only a block or two to the Albertina because our guide said that people start lining up for standing room seats at least an hour before the show. There was a Warhol exhibit and a strange Picasso exhibit of, what I can only describe as, his pubic hair and asshole period.

Nacht im Vienna

Our first night in Vienna we saw "Christmas in Vienna." Yes, I know we are Jewish, but I thought seeing the Vienna Boys Choir do their thing in the season and the city where they most appropriately do it, would be a cool experience....and they didn't make us pray.

We should have known

We had to leave at 3.15 in order to catch our 7.15 flight to Vienna. The news was reporting that 90% of flights within the UK were being cancelled because of the fog, but Lufthansa assured us that our flight was going to board. The news was creating, as much as reporting on, the FRENZY at the airport. Police were guarding all the terminal doors and only admiting people one hour before their flights even though the airlines were telling people to arrive at least 2 hours early.

The entire island was fogged in, the 3.45 airport bus was full. FULL...at 3.45 in the morning. The bus driver had no sympathy and mentioned that there would be another bus "soon". His nonchalance was annoying. I wish we had taken a photo of the MAYHEM that was Terminal 2. There were lines snaking back and forth six or seven deep going the length of a very long room. People with skis, people with children, people with frowns and gnashed teeth. Every-so-often a uniformed person would yell a flight number and 15 people would jump out of line. There were German people and British people and Irish and Georgian people...

and I had an idea.

I swerved and ducked and "excused" my way to the e-check-in terminal and checked us in. It was as easy as that- a total V-8 moment. All we had to do after that was que up in a much shorter line to check our luggage. Piece of cake!




we arrive in Vienna.

Our trip to the GMC

Before we go away we have to visit the General Medical Council so that Jason can get 'registered.' It has taken lots of paper work and furrowed brows, but we get to see a little of London along the way.

This is the car that Dave crashed...

This is the car we inherited: a 1998 Fiat Brava. Unfortunately, David had a little accident before he went back to the states. It drove fine except for the flat tire and the strange noises, but the insurance company wouldn't insure it. So, when we get back we'll look for a new one.

We arrived!

Our flat, flat 26, is on the first floor. We live on the hospital grounds right across the street from the back of Churchill Hospital. The hospital was built in 1940 to serve as Emergency Medical Services for air raid casualties. In 1993 Churchill merged with John Radcliff Hospital (the JR) to become Churchill John Radcliffe Hospital. It is at the JR where Jason spends most of his time.

We have no hot water but thankfully we are going on a little trip before Jason starts and we'll only have to take cold showers for a few days.