A Short Stop in Germany... then on to Strasbourg!

*A quick disclaimer: some of you have been asking for more pictures of me on my blog. I made an effort to have Brooke take more pics of me this past weekend, but unfortunately we did not have a way to exchange photos, so the only ones I have of myself are the few I had her take with my camera. But I am going to make an effort in this regard!

This past Friday was Armistice Day (celebrating the end of WWI), and a national holiday in France. I spent the day in France, Switzerland and Germany, which seemed to cover pretty much every side. This was my first time ever visiting Germany and Freiburg is a cute little town. I was supposed to meet Brooke there at 1pm (leaving from Besançon at 9:40am), but both my train out of Besançon and my connection out of Mulhouse were delayed, which meant I missed my second connection in Basel (see map below for my route):

I went to the ticket counter, worried that this was going to be a crisis. The affable Swiss employee informed me that not only could I just take the next train, but I didn't even need to change my ticket. He was very helpful, but I had a tough time with his Swiss French. Now I better understand why the French always make comments about Swiss French not really being French, the pronunciation was so different that it almost sounded like another language. I guess it's sort of how lots of Americans feel about Canadians speaking English...

I had an hour to kill in Basel, so I figured I do a little exploring. I walked out of the train station only to find.... a Burger King and a Starbucks. Curse you, globalization!! I didn't walk very far, for fear of missing my next train, but I did snap a picture of the Basel train station from the outside:

I got to Freiburg around 2pm and Brooke was all ready to show me the city. After grabbing a snack (brattwurst weiss -- white bratwurst) we climbed up to the top of Freiburg Minster, the cathedral (in German Freiburger Münster). What a cool view!

The inside of the cathedral was pretty neat too, especially the stained glass. There were two roasaces (giant rose-shaped or circular stained glass windows on the front of the cathedral) instead of one, and they were off-center. I've never seen anything like this before. It must have been intentional, or a really huge goof. The cathedral's Wikipedia page offers me no clues, although I did discover Freiburg's French sister city has been Besançon since 1959.

I found the architecture of Freiburg to be really adorable. Of course, as my first excursion to a German city, it's possible that this is the norm for many of them, but I found it novel:

For dinner Brooke and I found a cute little restaurat called Erzherzog Albrecht that seemed to fit our price rage. It ended up being a total bargain: 14 euros for a plate of delicious rahmschnitzel (pork schnitzel) and spaetzel (a type of noodle typical of the Black Forest/Alsace region) and a pint of the local hefeweizen, tip incuded. Brooke's ravioli and local pils were equaly delicious and we left thoroughly satisfied. I thought it was sort of neat that the restaurant was run by a family whose last name is Maier, spelled the same way as my mom's maiden name. If I needed any more confirmation of my German heritage...

The train to Strasbourg took about an hour and a half, and when we arrived I called up Colin, the son of one of the teachers at École Champagne. On Thursday Véronique, said teacher, overheard me telling some of the kids that I was going to Strasbourg with a friend for the weekend. She asked where we would be staying and when I told her a hotel, she offered to call up her son and see if we could stay with him. He and his girlfriend Carole live in Petite France, the most quaint district of Strasbourg. They're both students in the university's architecture school and they were very welcoming. We got in around 9pm and went out with the two of them and Carol's cousin to a café/bar called Jeannette et les Cycleux (where I had planned for us to hae lunch the next day, actually). Carole suggested the 5 of us share a bottle of Pinot Gris, one of the 10 varities of wine grown in Alsace. It was my first time trying Pinot Gris and I thought it was delicious! I had to do quite a bit of translatig for Brooke, since Colin and Carol weren't comfortable speaking very much English, but we made it work.

The next morning Brooke and I set off for the cathedral, which we had seen the night before while walking to the bar. Notre-Dame de Strasbourg is magnificent! It was begun in the early 1200s and completed 200 years later. It's made of the rosy pink sandstone from the nearby Vosges mountains, and, as far as I know, is the only cathedral in France of its hue. It was designed in the gothique rayonnant (high or late Gothic style) ad is considered one of the finest examples of this style. It embodies the Gothic ideal of verticality -- your eyes are practically forced upward. Brooke and I ascended the 330 steps to the platform, which was almost too high up to see Strasbourg properly. I thought the best views were the ones we got looking out of the windows on the way up and down:

Above: the European Parliament building, seen from the distance.

Afterward we went inside -- to find the typical gorgeous stained-glass windows, a a unusually bright painted organ and a gigantic astronomical clock (which dates from 1838-1843).

Even though the Christmas markets haven't started yet, there were lots of tourists in Strasbourg for the weekend. Especialy around the cathedral we were constantly surrounded by a crush of people. We did a little exploring; then headed to Jeanette et les Cycleux for lunch. My guidebook recommended their planchette : 10 different meats, cheeses, and toppings served with fresh bread. I thought it might be a fun way for Brooke to sample lots of different things, so we split it:

My favorites were the goat cheese and the bleu Auvergne (local blue cheese). Brooke's were the Munster and Brie.

After luch we headed over to the Office of Tourism and picked up some audio guides to do a self-guided walking tour of the city. It took us around the cathedral, into the courtyard Palais Rohan (designed by the same man who did Versailles and inhabited by Mairie Antoinette and Napoleon, at different times), and along the quais (riverbanks) of the River L'Ill (pronounced LEE-luh), which winds its way through Strasbourg. We had to cut short the walking tour to make it in time for our dégustation (wine tasting).

Above: Brooke in the courtyard of the Palais Rohan. 

On the way we made a slight detour into a patisserie, and afterward were very pleased that we did. Brooke also shares my love of macaroons and we purchased the two best I have ever tasted. Brooke's caramel one was particularly sensational (but my chocolate one was superb). We may or may not have tried to go back for another round on Sunday, only to find out we were 30 minutes too late -- probably all the better our waistlines and budgets, but our tastebuds sure were sorry.

I found this wine tasting on the Office of Tourism website. It advertised an hour-and-a-half session tasting four different Alsacia wines: Reisling, Sylvaner, Pinot Noir and Guerwitztraminer for 10 euro. Both Brooke and I thought the session was a success. We did indeed try the 4 different wines and Mr. Arbogast, who conducted the tasting, explained a bit about the history of Alsacian wines and how they differ from other types of French wines. He also had some kuglehopf -- a very traditional Alsacian bread -- for us to try.

We already had a couple of options for diner, but I asked Mr. Arbogast for his recommendations. Unfortunately we weren't the only ones with these recommendatios, and we tried 4 different places before finding one with space before 10pm, Aux Armes de Strasbourg in Place Gutenburg. The food was pretty good, but our table was right by the door and the servers who walked by kept jostling my chair. Overall, the experience was not quite as stellar as I had hoped, but I think Brooke enjoyed her cerf (venison) and I was shocked by how much I enjoyed my choucroute garnie (sauerkraut served with local sausage and ham). Last time I was in Strasbourg I avoided the sauerkraut because it just didn't look appetizing to me. But before I left Steff insisted that I try it, so I gave it a chance. Now I would recommend it too!

While planing our trip last week I discovered there was a jazz festival going on while we were there, so we got tickets to see a three-person group from Switzerland called the Colin Vallon group and consisting of a piantist, a drummer, and a bassist. The concert started at 10:30pm and was held in a little local theater less than a 5 minute walk from our apartment (I forgot to mention, Colin and Carole went to Carole's parents' house for the weekend, so we had the apartment all to ourselves on Saturday and Sunday). As soon as we sat down I knew the concert was going to be tough -- all of that walking around and delicious food meant that I was really sleepy. It turned out, too, that the music was not quitewhat I expected; perhaps my personal definition  of jazz is too narrow, but this discordant music was not at all what I would have labeled jazz. It was as if the three musicians were playing entirely separately, without hearing the others. Very, very occasionally their three ryhthms would overlap and the creation would be auditorially pleasing. But most of the time my ear was straining to find any kind of similarity or concordace. That is, when I wasn't fighting the urge to fall asleep. When I looked over Brooke appeared to be in the same state. So, at 11:45pm we admitted defeat and headed home. Bed felt so good!!

Sunday was an abbreviated day -- we did a boat tour of the city at 10:30am, did some quick last-minute shopping for gifts, did some more exploring around the city and had lunch at a restaurant from my guidebook, Flam's. This place specialized in flammenkuche, another Alsacian specialty. It's similar to a thin-crust pizza, and the basic recipe involves gruyere cheese, onions, little pieces of ham on top of a base of creme fraiche. Brooke ordered the "Flam of the Moment" (with potatoes and I don't remember what else) and I ordered the fromager (cheese special). They brought each of ours out as half-and-half, so that we would both be able to eat them hot out of the oven. It was just as delicious as the guidebook promised!

Afterward I dropped Brooke off at the train station (her flight left from Basel, Switzerland, so she had to take the train there), I headed off to visit the Botanical Garden behind the university. Unfortunately it was closing just as I arrived. But I think most of the plants probably aren't worth seeing at this point in the year. I took a 6pm direct train and got back to Besançon by 9pm. It was a wonderful weekend! Now it's late and time for me to get some sleep!

A Quick Word on Wednesday

So yesterday morning was pretty uneventful: I had planned to do a track workout first thing, but when I woke up I realized I had forgotten to take my clothes out of the washer the night before. Since all of my workout things were still wet (and it was much too cold to run in shorts), I was sort of stuck. It's funny, not having a dryer isn't usually a problem, but there are some moments -- like this morning, when it would be really handy.

At 2:30pm I met up with Susan (sister of my high school physics teacher, the woman who invited me to lunch at her house and to the apple festival) and her mother in the c-v. Her mother has been visiting for the last two weeks and will be here for another week. We went to a cute little patisserie-cafe for tea and hot chocolate and a treat. Susan ordered tea, her mother and I both ordered chocolat viennois (hot chocolate with whipped cream). All three of us had the macaron (macaroon) of the day, chestnut. Chestnut does not happen to be my favorite flavor, but I absolutely love macaroons. Before coming to France this time I'm not positive I had tried them before, if I had, it wasn't memorable. But I think I was offered one early on and now I'm hooked. For those of you who aren't familiar, this is what macarons look like (not my pics, I nicked these from Google Images):

Usually they're sold in the size pictured above, slightly larger than the size of a dollar coin. The most common flavors are vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, coffee and pistachio, but I've seen some really wild ones (cassis, pineapple, elderberry). The blue/black one in the picture above is probably cassis.

 The ones we had yesterday were the size of a regular pastry (maybe tennis ball size, but a disc, rather than a ball), and filled with both chestnut cream and a chestnut mousse. There was a candied chestnut on top. I had a wonderful time chatting with Susan and her mother and all really enjoyed the macarons.

At 4pm I had to dash off to meet Janice (former assistant I met with when I first got here, she got married to a Besançon resident and has been living here for the past 7-8 years). I had promised to babysit her two little kids so she could run some errands and finish packing. Her whole family is leaving for a three-week excursion to the U.S. this morning (actually they left at 5am, they should be on their way). Let me tell you, babysitting is the best birth control! Her son just turned three and her daughter is one and wow they are both a handful. The experience demonstrated to me how many factors you have to take into account if you want to have a family (does your apartment building have an elevator -- if not, living on the 4th floor with two small children will be extremely difficult / does your husband have a 2-hour commute and therefore get back at 7:30pm every night when he would otherwise get back earlier). Also, I was flabbergasted by how slowly we had to move with the kids. It just takes forever! I'm so used to getting things accomplished as quickly as possible... It was definitely eye-opening. There are moments when they're so cute though. We read lots and lots of books -- it was an easy way to keep them entertained -- including "Blueberries for Sal," one of my childhood favorites. Janet wanted me to speak English with them as much as possible -- even though they're very young the little that they do speak is in both English and French -- so when we read their one or two books in French I sight-translated the words. It was tougher than I would have expected! Janice said that her son is starting to recognize letters, so she's going to have to stop sight-translating for fear of confusing him.

After babysitting I met up with Janice, Laurie, Kirstie, Nicola (all primary school assistants), Kati
(J and L's roommate), and Justine (their neighboor on the floor below) for dinner at a Moroccan restaurant called Chez Achour. Steph and Charly recommended this place to me and it was delicious! It was only a 10-minute walk from my house too.

Time to get ready for school! Bonne journée! (have a great day!)

Business as Usual

So enough with voyaging around Europe, I'm back to the Besancon routine. Classes started up again on Thursday and the kids were pretty rowdy. After nearly 2 weeks of vacation, they had some trouble getting back in the routine. We worked on the names of the days of the week and it took a little longer than I expected. As with the other lessons I have taught so far, the lesson in general got much better with each successive session. I always feel badly for whichever class falls first in the lesson set, so far it's been a different one for one reason or another, but after I've taught the lesson a few more times I look back and wish I could re-teach it to that first class. At the suggestion of one of the teachers (I think her class was the third or fourth to whom I taught this lesson), I started having the kids use their ardoises (miniature chalkboards/dry-erase boards). I used it to review the numbers -- I would say a number and they would have to write it down and then raise their board. They love racing to see who can get it first and it allows me to verify that they're really learning. Also, I usually quiz them by holding up a flashcard of whatever vocabulary word we're reviewing (in this case, it would be a numeral), so by having them write the numeral out, it was a different way of testing their retention.

After only a few weeks of teaching my respect for the teaching profession in general has increased exponentially. Because the information itself seems basic, it's easy to think that teaching would be just as simple. But it's not -- finding the most effective and compelling way to present a new concept is so much harder than I ever realized. And it requires a lot of flexibility -- sometimes a concept is much harder for the kids than I anticipated and I have to modify whatever I had planned to teach them. And then sometimes they get it right away and I have to come up with an activity on the spot because the first one goes so quickly. And sometimes the kids are just brats. In general they have been really good, but there are one or two malcontents in practically every class who occasionally make their voices heard despite my shushing. And one or two of the classes (I can think of one class of 3rd graders at Bourgogne and one class of 4th graders at Champagne) are less attentive and less cooperative than the rest. During those classes especially I wish I could tap into that resevoir of endless patience that my mother always seems to possess...

I didn't have any big plans for this weekend, but it ended up being quite busy. Most of the activity happened on Friday. I had my third riding lesson, which went even better than the first two. This time I rode a Connemara named Saphir (Sapphire). Even though he was a little small for me (Connemaras are ponys, but fairly large and sturdy, and so they can sometimes be more like small horses), he was very responsive and a lot of fun to ride. There was one other girl in my lesson, Elisa, who told me afterwards that this lesson was her first time back in the saddle after a fairly serious car accident over a year ago. She rode Nouba, the horse I rode during my last lesson. We had to ride inside because it rained pretty hard on Thursday and was too wet to go outside. We didn't get to jump, but worked on a lot of bending and exercises on the flat. Since I'm planning to visit Strasbourg with Brooke next weekend, I arranged with Marie, the director, to make up the lesson I will miss the next morning at 9am.

Ultimate practice went well. The 1st team (which plays in Division III, I believe) had the first round of their indoor championship tournament while I was away in Vienna and they won the whole thing! The final rounds of the tournament won't take place until February (I still don't understand the system), but they will have good seeding because of their victories last weekend. For the scrimmage on Friday night we played the 1st team versus the 2nd team (which plays at the regional level, not the national level, and is the co-ed team), which was a bit frustrating. It's always demoralizing to go in knowing you're playing against people of a much higher skill level, but we managed to score some good points nonetheless. The reasoning behind having the first and second teams play each other is so that the second team has a chance to work together, without depending on the first team players, who won't be there during our competitions. Hopefully we'll only improve!

Then, after Ultimate, I hurried home to shower and change for Candice, Laurie, and Kati's pendaison de la crémaillère (housewarming party). Candice and Laurie are the two assistants who found an apartment in the c-v and Kati, an Austrian ERASMUS student, is their roommate. ERASMUS is a really popular program in the EU which allows university students to study abroad for a year in another EU country. Most people I meet assume I am an ERASMUS student (for some reason most people don't seem to know it's only an EU thing). Because all of the EU countries use this same program, students have the security of knowing their credits will transfer when they return to their home university.

Anyway, they've been moved in since our second week here, but this party was an excuse to hang out and mingle (Kati's friends from the university -- she's in the faculte des beaux-arts or school of art -- plus the english teaching assistants). Because I didn't get back from practice until 11pm, I didn't arrive until nearly midnight, but was pleased to find quite a bustling party! I met a bunch of new people, including Kati's friends and some friends of other assistants. Even though it was a late night, I'm really glad I went!

Saturday morning I was up bright and early to get there for my 9am lesson. The barn was packed! There were 11 other people in my lesson in the smallish indoor, and then another lesson of 6-7 little kids on Shetland ponies in an outdoor arena. The most people I'd ever seen at the Ecuries at one time was probably 10, so the atmosphere was very different. I cannot say I enjoyed my lesson very much. I rode Saphir again, and he was fine, but there were just too many people in our lesson. The ring could probably comfortably hold 8 horses and ponys, but 12 was way too many. And besides the numbers, the range of abilities was also too wide; there were one or two adults who did not seem to have control of their horses. And Beatrice (Marie's daughter, the main coach/instructor) didn't do anything to curb her son, who was also riding in the lesson. He appeared to be about 7 or 8 and was a total brat. He kept shouting to his mother about one thing or another, didn't pay attention to the other horses around him, made loud noises and waved his crop around while we were waiting our turns to jump, etc. I was shocked by his behavior. We did jump -- a gymnastic which eventually included 3 verticals and an oxer, and that scared me even more than the flatwork. Saphir was fine, but watching some of the others, especially when we were supposed to do it with our hands behind our backs, made me really nervous.

Honestly, if Saturday's lesson had been my first experience at the Ecuries, I don't know if I would have gone back. Talking with a few of the adults in my lesson after it was over, they were surprised Marie would schedule so many people at once. They were also thoroughly annoyed by the instructor's son. Their reactions reassured me a little bit, because at least they didn't see the experience as the norm. But I'm definitely going to stick to my Friday afternoon slot. It's sort of a shame too, because there was a convivial atmosphere with the group at 9am. The adults from the lesson, about four or so plus another three who had come to watch, invited me to join them for coffee and a snack in the barn's common room afterward. They were really friendly and it was nice to chat with them. It was definitely the dynamic that I had hoped to find by joining this barn.

Then Saturday afternoon I went ice-skating with Colin, Romain, and Romain's girlfriend. We went to the patinoire (ice rink) Lafayette, the same one where I saw the hockey match. The ice rink participates in the carte avantages jeunes (youth pass), so I got in for free! We spent nearly 2 hours there and had a lot of fun! It was fairly crowded, and of course there were the teenage boys skating way too fast and darting in front and behind the other skaters. But there was a separate, smaller rink reserved for the kids, so at least I didn't have to worry about accidentally running over some poor toddler on skates! None of the four of us fell, so we considered it a success! I love ice-skating and was really glad that we got to go.

This morning I went to church as usual, and when I got back I baked a loaf of banana bread! I noticed on Saturday that Steph and Charly's 4 bananas were turning black, and suggested I could bake them a cake. So faux amis, or "false friends" like cake make French even more confusing than it already is. In French a cake is a loaf cake, usually savory but sometimes sweet, with the size/texture/consistency of banana or zucchini bread (maybe a little drier, especially if it's savory). You wouldn't say "pain de bananas" because pain is bread that you slice or use for a sandwich, like baguette or a loaf of whole wheat bread. I just took it out of the oven and it looks pretty good! I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies this past Wednesday when my package finally arrived, and Steph and Charly loved them! I was quite pleased with how well they turned out, and hope the banana bread is just as good.

Here are some pictures I took last Wednesday when I took a long bike-ride along the Doubs. The fall colors were even more beautiful on Tuesday when I went for a really long run following the same route, but unfortunately we had a big storm on Tuesday evening and that knocked down a lot of the leaves. You get the idea though!

Oh, one more thing. Yesterday after the #6 bus dropped me off at Place Flore I stopped in La Porte des Saveurs (the boulangerie/patisserie with the very friendly owner) to get a little treat. She only had 5-6 choices (not very many by the average patisserie's standards), and I asked which was her favorite. "Le figue" was her response, so that's what I bought. 

 

I'm starting to realize many traditional French pastries involve the same ingredients, just put together in different ways (as in an eclair and a Paris-Brest). This one is basically an eclair (pastry with creme de la patissier inside) but in a ball rather than a rounded rectangle, and covered in almond fondant. It was yummy, but a little dry for my taste. I don't think I would get it again, but now I now I can say I've tried one!

How Many Austrian Men Does It Take To Help Brooke and Lauren Make It Down the Danube?

Answer: 3

So Sunday morning Brooke and I had planned to take a little bike excursion down the Danube. Brooke has done this twice before: once with a group from the Flow House and once with her parents, so we knew the basic logistics of the trip. One thing we did not take into account: absolutely everything going wrong. Two things to keep in mind as you read: 1) Brooke and I had tickets to see a production of "Romeo and Juliet" at the Burgtheatre at 7pm, and 2) pretty much everyone Brooke knows in Austria was out of town for the long weekend (the family, Joe, Joe's aunt).

The general plan was to drive to the Westbanhof station in Vienna (about 45 minutes from the house) and from there take a train to Melk, a small town west of Vienna, then ride our bikes along the Danube north/east as it heads back toward Vienna (see picture I took using GoogleMaps). Brooke would ride her new and quite spiffy road bike and I would borrow the father's mountain bike. We would stop for lunch at a heurigen somewhere along the route, and then make the 5pm train back to Vienna from the Krems station. Seems pretty simple, right? Wrong!

So although we pumped up the tires before leaving the house, we neglected to fully check out the father's bike, which ended up being the source of pretty much all of our woes (but not quite all!). We were running a little late in the morning, but managed to make it to Westbanhof in time to make our 9am train. The trip to Melk took a little over an hour, but that too was uneventful. They also had these nifty little plastic ties to secure your bike -- why hasn't anyone in France thought of this?

When we arrived in Melk it was chilly, but with a few rays of sunshine! Hooray! Melk is a really cute little town with an enormous baroque-style abbey which (Wikipedia tells me) is one of the world's most famous monastic sites. Brooke informed me that you have to take a 2-hour tour to see the mangificent frescoes and other decorations inside, so unfortunately we didn't have time for that. At the Melk train station we tried to adjust my bike seat (the father isn't exceptionally tall, but he is taller than I am) and realized that the bolt securing the seat height was stripped. Uh oh. We had the right tools, but they were useless with the stripped bolt. So Brooke suggested we walk down to one of the places which rents bikes, because they might have more tools. So we moseyed on down to the trail, only to find that all of the rental places were closed (of course, it was a Sunday). So, new plan: we headed to the BP gas station nearby. They did have a giant multipurpose tool (like a Swiss Army Knife on steriods), but none of those helped either. Brooke and I were starting to wonder if we were going to need some brute strength to overcome the stripped bolt. Our instinct was to ask the gas station attendant, but she didn't look any stronger than we are. So, when a relatively-fit looking man walked by (heading into the station to pay), we way-layed him. Luckily he both spoke English and was a cyclist, and was willing to help. He told us he didn't have any tools with him, but if we would wait he would run home and grab his toolbox. We felt badly for inconveniencing him, but he insisted and sped off. He returned 5 minutes later with an enormous tool box, and with the help of an L-wrench and a rubber mallet, was able to adjust the seat. Success!! We thanked him profusely, offered to buy him a beer (which he declined, it was only 10:30am at this point), and he drove off.

It turns out our "Mission Accomplished" came too soon. I hopped on the bike, only to discover that the pedals spun around and around without any pressure; the bike was in the highest gear. So I tugged at the gear shift. Nothing. Uh oh. Brooke hopped on to give it a shot. Nothing. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that not only were the gears disconnected (shifting produced absolutely no result), but the derailer was also nonfunctioning. It wouldn't click into place, so even if we manually set the chain to a lower gear, the derailer would automatically force it back to the highest. In that condition, the bike was inoperable. So, the thinking caps came on. Eventually we wadded up a bunch of paper-toweling from the dispenser near the gas pumps and jammed it inbetween the bike frame and the derailer. Probably not the most technical solution, but, miraculously, it worked! Now the bike was in a medium gear, still too low to move at a quick clip, but ride-able. Determined not to miss this experience, I hopped on and we set off.

Pedaling turned out to be harder than I expected. Although we had inflated both tires that morning, the back tire of my bike was already low and that created a certain amount of bounce with each pedal stroke. The bike frame itself was actually too large for me, and in order to reach the handle bars I had to lock out my elbows. But I had a more-or-less functioning bicycle, so I was game.

The scenery itself was absolutely gorgeous! The sun kept peeking out from behind the clouds, giving us really pretty views of the river itself and the hills on each side. The trees were at the zenith of their autumnal colors and the path wound through some cute little towns and vineyards. There were lots of other people on the path, but not so many that it felt crowded. Since we got sort of a late start, we stopped for lunch after only an hour or so of riding. The heurigen was in a tiny town called Aggsbach-Dorf and when we entered around 2pm we were the only patrons. We decided to order weiner schnitzel and cordon bleu and split them both -- an excellent choice because I ordered the weiner schnitzel but preferred the latter. Our server asked if we wanted fries or salad (in German, he didn't really speak English) and when Brooke asked for one of each I was excited for some leafy greens. It turns out that whenever salad is advertised in conjunction with weiner schnitzel, they mean potato salad: No leafy greens for us! Even if it was gloriously unhealthy, the food was absolutely delicious. Which made what happened next even more embarrassing...

When our server brought us the bill I offered to pay with my French debit card. No luck, they don't take cards. Brooke anticipated this and so we brought cash... but it turned out not enough. There was an extra fee to bring the bikes on the train, which we paid with cash when the conductor came by to check our tickets. So while 30 euro would have been plenty to cover our bill (22.50 euro), 20 euro was most definitely not enough. Brooke asked where the bank-o-mat could be found. "Melk." Yup, the nearest ATM was back in the town we had just come from, an hour's ride. So, with very plaintive and sheepish looks, we asked for the server's name (the restaurant address was on the receipt) and promised to mail him the rest (plus, of course, a bonus for the trouble). He was definitely irked, but he let us leave (which makes him Austrian man #2).


So, back in the saddle, Brooke and I were both feeling chagrined. We continue riding along, marveling at the scenery, and laughing about how many things had gone wrong.

After another hour or so I was really struggling with the bike. I was trying to tough it out but Brooke insisted on switching (she is shorter than I am, so I was sure it would be even more difficult for her). We had only gone another 10 or 15 minutes when Brooke stopped abruptly. The rear tire, already low, was entirely deflated. Brooke, afraid of damaging the wheel, hopped off and we continued along the trail, on foot. We knew that it was still another 15km (about 9.3 miles) to Krems. At this point it was about 4pm and because of the time change (western Europe did Daylight Savings Time last Saturday), the light was already fading. Based on the time it would take to run a 5K, Brooke and I estimated it would take us upwards of an hour and a half to walk all the way to Krems. We're both in decent shape, and I know we could have done it, but I was worried both that it was getting dark (although the path is right by the road and there are towns every 2km or so) and that if we didn't get to Krems by 5pm there might not be more trains back to Vienna. We were hopeful that we'd come across a smaller town with a train station where we could catch a train before we had to walk all the way there, and someone we asked led us to believe there was just such a town a few km ahead.

We had been walking for probably 25 minutes when another cyclist passed us, stopped, and circled back. He asked us if something was wrong and offered us his spare tire. Unfortunately it was for a road bike, so it wouldn't do my bike any good. We told him about our predicament and he expressed some skepticism about the plan of walking all the way to Krems. He told us he had another 45 minutes left for his ride, but that afterward he could pick us up in his car and drop us off at the Krems train station on his way to check out an apartment in Vienna. So here was the dilemna: accept this gracious offer from a stranger (who seemed nice enough, but I guess the bad ones don't usually care around signs) or politely decline and walk all the way to Krems, which could be more or less dangerous. After some careful consideration, we went with option A. The man (late 20s, silly-looking facile hair but otherwise quite pleasant, named Christian) told us he would meet us along the route between that point and Krems, by a ferry stop. We exchanged phone numbers and set off. Before he left though, Christian informed us that unfortunately he only had room in his car for 2 people and 1 bike or 2 bikes and 1 person but not both. He left it to us to figure out how we wanted to arrange it.

So this left us with another set of choices: Brooke could ride her functioning bike to Krems and be there by the time Christian dropped me and the broken bike off at the station. That would mean Brooke and I wouldn't have to come back for the second bike. But it would also mean leaving the cell phone with me, so I could get in touch with Christian, and if something happened to Brooke along the route she would have no way to contact me (or vice versa). In the end, we decided to stick together and leave the broken mountain bike. Too many things had gone wrong already to leave this one to fate. So Brooke and I waited on this cute little picnic bench, and an hour later Christian showed up, driving exactly the same car as the first guy who helped us at the gas station (a silver BMW station wagon, 3-series size but without any labels so I'm not sure). We had already locked the broken bike to a fence and so we loaded Brooke's bike into the back. 15 minutes later Christian was dropping us off at the Krems train station and we were thanking him profusely (Austrian man #3). We had missed the 5pom train and none of the later trains going to Vienna were going to Westbanhof. So we took the next one to Vienna, then took a few different metro lines to get back to the car. We got some cash from an ATM and promptly got back on the road, headed to Krems to pick up the bike. After that, we drove a little further to the heurigen and left our receipt with a note and 10 euros stuck inside the front door (it was closed, and would be closed Monday and Tuesday). Then, finally, we headed home. We had already missed the play, of course, but I was happy just to get back in one piece (and with both bikes!) We got back to the house at 10:30pm, more than 13 hours after we departed. What an adventure! Brooke and I were both very grateful for those 3 Austrians who helped us, we most definitely couldn't have done it without them!

A Few Thoughts on Vienna

Quick note: in the last entry I wished you all a happy Toussaint without explaining exactly what that means. It's a holiday (originally Catholic) to celebrate all of the saints and it's a public holiday in France because in the past, the period around Toussaint was when the French peasants (and their children) would harvest the potato crop. In recognition that many students would be absent, the school system found it easier to just have a vacation, and the tradition has stuck. Schoolchildren get a full 10 days, but today, Nov. 1, is the federal holiday.

So this trip to visit Brooke was very different from any other trip I've taken while in Europe. First of all, I was there for a full 6 days, so there was less urgency to use every single hour for sightseeing. Also, Brooke has a car, which meant that we didn't use public transportation nearly as often as I would normally when visiting a city. She's also very familiar with the city, having lived there for about 6 months total at this point... so I think during this visit I spent less time being lost and/or figuring out how to get places than I have in the past. But Brooke's schedule was a bit restricted because she had to work on Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday (Wednesday was a national holiday, so she had that day off). We had to wake up early so she could take the son to school (about an hour trip, in total) and then be back in the afternoons through mid-evening. This limitation meant we got to see fewer things than I would have otherwise, but in exchange for a free place to stay and lots of time hanging out with Brooke, I think it worked out for the best :-) In this picture Brooke is standing on the steps of the Albertina, an art museum right near the Staatsoper. Last time I was in Vienna they had just opened an exhibit on Impressionists and apparently they made it something of a permanent exhibit, because it's still there. They also added this mural to the steps, and it looks great!

One of the first things I noticed as we were driving from the airport to Brooke's family's house was that Austrian stoplights are different from American or French ones. They're still red, yellow, and green, but the yellow light comes on for both transitions (red to yellow to green, green to yellow to red). You can go as soon as the light turns red to yellow, so I guess that's not a huge difference, but the green lights also start blinking before they turn yellow, so you know when the light is about to change. I'm not sure if it's a better system or not, but it definitely gives you more warning.

This is apparently the smallest cafe in Vienna (the name literally means "Small Cafe"). Brooke and I tried to go here on Wednesday afternoon, but these two girls snatched the last open table from us. We waited for a few minutes, but no one seemed close to finishing, so we left.

Running: since I'm still working towards a marathon, I wanted to get in at least a few runs while I was gone for 10 days. Luckily the afternoons when Brooke had to be home to watch the kids were a perfect opportunity for me to get in some kilometers. The family lives in Bisamberg, a village/town north of Vienna. There's an entrance to the highway relatively nearby, but once you get outside the town it's mostly farmland. Unfortunately it was quite gray in Vienna this past week, so the landscape wasn't quite as pretty as it could have been (during at least two of my runs I spent the majority of my time looking down, head bowed against the wind). But it really is quite magnificent. I'm sure the leaves changing colors only helped, but the rolling hills and the mountains in the distance were pretty neat. [Note: this picture was taken during our ride along the Danube on Sunday afternoon, not in Bisamberg, so it was never this sunny while I was running. But it gives you an idea of how pretty the country can be!] I realized during these runs that I have no ability to identify crops based on their foliage. I saw at least four different types of leaves/plants, but I couldn't tell you what was growing in the fields (and Brooke couldn't tell me). I can identify corn, thanks to Ohio, and soy beans and tobacco, thanks to North Carolina, so I can definitely say they were not any of those three... Another neat thing I saw while running: lots of cool birds. I saw multiple pheasant running through the rows of crops -- their long orangey-brown tails were beautiful! I don't think I had ever seen one in the wild before. This well-outfitted bird on the right is not one of the ones I saw in the fields, but rather part of a Swarovski window display. Apparently they partnered with the natural history museum and borrowed these beautiful stuffed birds to show off their latest jewelry.

A challenge I experienced in Vienna: German. Luckily between Brooke's basic abilities and the proliferation of English-speakers in the city, we got along just fine. But, as I anticipated, it was very humbling to spend time in a country where I knew so very little of the language. But I expanded my repetoire, and at least once was able to complete an entire transaction without depending on any English (okay, I said three words/phrases, and I was buying postcards, but still, this was progress!)

Some words I learned:

Grüß Gott! (hello)
Tschüs (goodbye)
Entschuldigen (excuse me, pardon)
Bitte (please)
Lightenwasser (still water)
Schlag (whipped cream -- but theirs isn't sweetened so it's not quite like ours)
Schönes Wochenende (have a good weekend)


I know, quite the list, right. As funny as I find German (how seriously can you take yourself if you have a word like fünf [five] as part of your language?), I really am going to try to learn some once my portable CD drive arrives. I haven't been able to make use of the German for Dummies CDs, nor the software they have at the teachers' library because I don't have any way to play them. But I think I'll be able to pick up the package that contains my CD drive from the post office tomorrow, and I can get to work. Not only is Brooke working on German, and I plan to visit at least a few cities in Germany while I'm here, but I know a couple of people in Besancon who are native-speakers (Franzi from the Ultimate team and Candice and Laurie's Austrian roommate Kati), so theoretically I could get some real practice in if I wanted. I let you know if I make any realprogress.

So what did I think of Vienna, overall? This time I got to see it much more from a local's perspective, and I would say I liked it just as much, if not more than I did last time. The people were very friendly, the architecture, history and art is really interesting and superabundant (I think you could spend days just wandering around the first district looking at the architecture of the regular buildings, even without spending time looking at the monuments and the really famous ones). Take, for example, this beautiful mosaic above a totally generic shoe store (picture on right). It is sort of a shame that I still have not seen Vienna in the spring/summer though, because I imagine it would be even more beautiful and pleasant. But I would recommend it wholeheartedly -- probably second behind Prague, but possibly before Paris. And Brooke deserves a lot of credit for making it such a great stay!