14 November, Saturday.
Yes, I happen to be back in the States now. But thanks to my detailed notes and clutch memory, the Roman adventures will continue! So let us go back, and pretend that I’m still writing this from the 14th of November. Right? Right.
The day dawned much too early, so once we left Katrina and Caitlin in Prague and hopped our train to Austria, we all fell asleep in our compartment, no matter how beautiful the rolling hills of the Austrian countryside—yes, Sound of Music fans, it really does look like that. Once we arrived, we found ourselves running very unhappily for our train on the Bann to our hostel (thankfully our little bit of German came in handy here too) and following a group of chatty Brits to the Wombat hostel. Without our camel packs, we were free to walk the streets of Vienna—clean stones lined by Victorian white-walled buildings, a view out of Mozart’s time. St. Stephen’s cathedral was our first stop, a gorgeous gray stone gothic with a roof tiled in shifting shades of blue, green, and purple, like the underbelly of a sea dragon crowning walls carved in the usual gargoyles and effigies. Outside in the square, lights hung in the shapes of chandeliers and stars signaled the coming Christmas season. We ate our delicious Austrian sausage (mine was something delicious with cheese in it) and listened to calming German shouts of the Austrian activists protesting the fur stores.
As the sun fell, we walked to the Christkindlmarkt, the hallmark of the Viennese holiday season. Just outside the city hall, whose windows were lit and numbered to make a giant Advent calendar, the platz glowed with Christmas spirit. The trees, netted in huge lights in the shapes of hearts, angels, and snowflakes like fairylights, looked like star-studded dandelion puffs or animations out of Kirby’s Dreamland. They lit paths clustered with miniature log cabin booths hawking every imaginable ware, from glass ornaments and spiced apple cider in commemorative cups (of course I bought one) to handdipped chocolates and fluffy wool ski caps. A cheery oompah band provided the soundtrack, in addition to the voices of about a thousand locals and tourists that we pushed through, happily sipping our cider.
After a much needed nap at the hostel, we finished the night with a tram ride around the whole of Vienna, breezing by such sights as the Danube, the opera house, and the little food stands where we desperately purchased, of all things, Chinese noodles. By the time it was dark out and we returned, it was time for bed.
