It was time to come down from my Germany extravaganza, so making my way east I stopped in Salzberg, Austria. You've seen it before in the Sound Of Music. The hostel I stayed in did a daily screening of the movie and Sound Of Music tours were heavily advertised. That, and it being the birthplace of Mozart are it's claim to fame. You can walk across the entire city in about twenty minutes. Some travelers make it a day trip before or after Vienna. The entire country has a still, tranquil quality. Very pristine with rose gardens, perfectly manicured lawns and classical music. Austria has the most unique gardens I have ever seen. Pink, white, red and yellow roses are blooming everywhere and these aren't some gimpy rose bushes either. Each individual flower seems to spiral out from the center with perfect velvety petals with expert symmetry. Entities like this prove to me that God exists. Nothing seems to be out of place anywhere, even the H&M, which is usually loud and crowded with clothing and accessories strewn about with deodorant marks and missing buttons was orderly and precise. If I hadn't known any better I would have thought it was a cute boutique shop. Salzberg was beautiful and I never knew such perfection existed. It was almost too perfect, if that makes any sense. It lacked an edge. I'm more interested in places that are worn with evidence of continual use by generations before me.
The next day I took the train to Vienna. The hostel was very far from the center but it was hard to complain when you are on the top of a hill with a view of the entire city and backed up to a vineyard. There are lovely cottages everywhere, I must have one! I need one to use as a sanctuary when life overwhelms me, maybe in upstate New York or something. I will retreat there to cook and knit and tend to my garden and then return to my life with vitality. The first day I went to a traditional Austrian restaurant, which is similar to German food only they describe things like a song: pear slices in a night gown with a juggling pole, mountain cranberries, almonds, cinnamon and a pear rose as an applause. I had a savory tomato, potato pancake with sauerkraut bread. I returned to the hostel and filled my lungs with the fresh mountain air as I looked over the city while the sun was setting. I talked to a girl Marisa from Michigan for the rest of the night before resting my weary head. My utopia was short lived. The next day I got my map and planned my day, but as I stepped out the door, dark clouds began to gather. Relentlessly it poured cold rain all day soaking my clothes and shoes and chilling my bones to the core. It was impossible to even take pictures. I found a huge used English bookstore and bought The God of Small Things and went back to the hostel and read, waiting for the rain to subside. It never did. The book is beautifully written but very gloom and doom. Not a good match for a dreary day. There was nothing near the hostel and I was in alone all day since Marisa left for Hungary. It was even impossible to take a walk. Slugs the size of cigars gathered around my window. I detest those vile little beasts. I watched these slimy ill-colored creatures for hours. They really look much more attractive in their shell, they should stay in there. I sat in stewed in my mundane thoughts all day. I glared at them with contempt and held them responsible for my cabin fever, until my contempt grew to ambivalence and finally ambivalence to boredom. The next morning the girl at reception sent me to the wrong train station. I didn't get too upset because I bought a purple eyelet dress and a shirt and the woman at the register made a mistake and only charged me 8€ for both. I am an honest person but it only happens once in a blue moon and I thought maybe God sent me a gift for all the troubles. Went to the other train station to buy the ticket only to be sent to another train station that I had to take one metro and transfer to another to get there just on time. I sat next to a woman on the train who smelled like onions. I laid out my hoodie, socks and sneakers that hadn't dried from the day before and were reeking like mildew, so we were even. A little old Italian man took a picture of me with his cellphone and started laughing an kissing the screen. This country is batting a thousand with me.
Boy, Slovenia are you a sight for sore eyes! Austria can shove their opera up their ass. Ljubljana's where it's at! Nestled between Italy, Austria, Hungary, Croatia and the Adriatic Sea, calling Slovenia unique would be an understatement. They have their own language but you will also hear English, Italian, German and Croatian as well. I knew it was going to be good when I was following the directions from the train station to the hostel and it said the turn left at the dragon bridge. I thought it was a typo or maybe what they call a draw bridge here, but the bridge really has dragons on it, and it is beautiful! There are baroque style buildings even more distinct than those of Austria. They certainly have that edge that Austria was lacking. This is the first place in Europe that people are starting to look more exotic. Even the alphabet looks different. It is World Cup fever in Europe right now and Slovenia happened to be playing the United States when I was there. There was a castle in the middle of the city but its hard to impress me after the castles in Germany. I really loved it there, it was exactly what I needed-amazing food, great people, beautiful sculpture. I also had the opportunity to spend the night in Kras, which is in the countryside with some locals. It is a village of only fifty people with dilapidated old houses and vineyards. The house had wallpaper that had to have been about fifty years old, I was surprised this place even had running water. There was thunder and lightening all night. The kind that startles you out of a sound sleep. I'm not gonna lie, I was scared shitless out there. It was really beautiful but I was really anxious to get back to the city. One of the locals I met works in the kitchen of an Indian restaurant so I stopped in there to get my Indian fix before heading out. Believe me, I realize how lucky I am.
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