The hills are alive
Backcountry in Austria comes with services.
We were sitting with the parents in the lovely garden of the Stift’s Cafe at Klosterneuburg. The place was fairly empty – it was Monday and the museum was closed. The wind was swirling the first brown leaves across the plaza but we were protected by the garden’s walls. The waiter was kind and spoke excellent English and the food wasn’t bad either. We were talking about travel fatigue which right now, I have in spades.
I was lying on the balcony, listening to Morning Stories on my iPod. There were cowbells ringing in the background.The story – about a German woman who had Nazi parents and was really angry with them and all Germans – was sort of resonating with me. I went inside to look up the WGBH site …
Flea markets are depressing places but I can’t stay away. I’m a sucker for the random still life tableaus that you find when wandering the stalls. The Vienna flea market combines the possibility of still life with the stench of cigars and sweat and history and desperation. If that sounds like I’m being dramatic, then …
I didn’t study literature, so I don’t remember much about Shakespeare. And I don’t really know much history, though now I am feeling rather a lot of regret about that. I do know a thing or two about art history, though. That’s not saying much, though, because when it comes to this particular Venus, every …
I would trade my Austrian country life for the messiness of Vienna, any day.