Mauthausen
Sound of Music
Vienna
Schnapps!!!
Swarovsky
St Stephen’s Cathedral
Hopfgarten
Photos

My dear friends and family,

There has never been a country where I cried my most painful cry, laughed my most belly-aching laugh, sang my most heart felt song, ate my most satisfying foreign meal(s), drank my most excellent beverage(s) and found that I needed to kick myself in the ass for being so hasty. Ah Austria! A beautiful country. If there would be a place where I will consider moving to and living in, I believe I’d love to move here. I wouldn’t even mind learning German. A country whose word for goodbye is auf wiedersehen, easy on the tongue and lovely to hear, I wouldn’t say good bye to. As a matter of fact, I’d love to come back and experience Vienna all over again. Maybe next time, stay a while at Insbruck as well.

So, what was so beautiful about Austria? Well, just having been through two third world countries where plumbing is a problem and mosquitoes rule the land, Austria came so flushable (get it?!) and bug-free! The currency conversion was easy enough…who the hell would love to think in thousands instead of just tens? Spending thousand for meals made me antsy, but in Austria where I was just thinking in 10’s and 100’s for meals and stuff, I found the money situation a lot easier.

I said I cried my most painful cry while here in Austria. I did. At Mauthausen…the last concentration camp liberated after World War II. The camp was not an outright death camp. Mauthausen was reserved for the Jewish intellectual elite. So engineers, scientists, doctors and architects were “invited” to stay here…and they were asked to quarry for the Nazis. There was a long stairway carved out of the face of a cliff and the quarry was at the base, the prisoners were asked to carry rock and stone in the cold of winter and in the heat of summer. There was a story told that one insane Nazi official asked the prisoners to line up the stairs…he kicked the one at the very top and witnessed all of them falling like dominoes. I cried and cried and cried. The Star of David displayed on one of the monuments plus the movie we saw did not help me at all. The last subject interviewed in the movie, an American G.I. whose composure broke down when asked what he saw at the camp, made me cry some more. He was boo hoo hooing on the screen and so was I and the rest of the people watching the documentary. I felt so bad while in the camp. Indeed the line separating genius and insanity is thin and the reference point gets moved so often. I believe that the two hours we spent there were the most painful two hours of the tour…actually more than two hours because when we jumped on the coach no one wanted to talk. Silence. Silence. Silence.

To juxtapose the horrible Mauthausen camp, the next destination we went to was Mondsee, a quaint little town where they shot the wedding scene of Frolaine Maria to Capt Von Trapp. I took pictures of the church and somehow felt better…I admit that my feel-good movie of choice is the “Sound of Music”…yes, I own the CD soundtrack and I own the movie on VHS. So shoot me! Ha ha ha ha Not everyone in the coach found the songs of the movie as entertaining, but thank God for Jen (tour manager) she played Do Re Mi over and over and over and over again. The boys in the coach got the message, they shut their chaps, grinned and listened to the songs.

The food. Oh my God! I have never eaten the way I ate in Vienna. Rosenberger is my new favourite restaurant. I had wiener schnitzel (breaded pork dish), grillhendle (herbs roasted chicken), gulaschsuppe (hearty meat and vegetables soup), rostbraten (beef dish with a stewy-like sauce) , beilage (RICE!), sacher torte (dreamy, creamy chocolate cake), a to-die-for black forest cake and apple strudel from heaven! I ate my way across Vienna and I am proud to have done it! Dunno about my middle…for whatever weight I lost power walking down Champs Elysees I certainly gained all back while walking and eating across Kartnerstrasse (paved shopping district). Viennese food is a true gastronomic experience. I might even say I had my first gastrogasm while in Vienna! Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge.

The beverage(s). Oh my poor liver and tongue! Schnaps. We went to a Schnaps museum owned and operated by the Fischer family since the days of Marie Therese (Austrian queen who ruled as a king). Friedrich Fischer, the current proprietor, is a true-blue romantic character straight out of the movie Sound of Music. I would even claim that the Hollywood version of Captain Von Trapp was patterned after him. He is a true noble man, gentle in words, quick in wit, good-humoured and charming to no end. He personifies the good wine, the older they get the smoother they become. If I am to fall for an older gentleman, I’d very much like to have Mr. Friedrich Fischer knocking on my door. And his Schnaps is not bad at all! Ha ha ha …lets see, the Fischer family offers an array of Schnaps flavor. Mr. Fischer was first to point out that the difference between the Schnaps we consume in the States (yes! He talked to me and only me! gush. gush. gush. gush right here! He also thanked me for the craftsmanship of the Singer Company in Ohio because the hand crank cash machine they have at the office still works! It is at least 100 years old!) and the ones that come from Vienna is the spelling. We in the States spell Schnaps with two Ps and the Viennese don’t. The second difference is the sugar content. It seems that Americans like their Schnapps sweet while the Viennese don’t. The third difference is alcohol content. The Fischer company make a special Schnaps called Viennese Blood. It is blood red and very precious. It is 56 per cent alcohol, so that makes it 112 proof…sounds like the West Virginia moonshine has a rival here in Vienna. Makes you blind, ay?! So consume this at your own risk!

Mr. Fischer’s mom swears by its medicinal properties. But Mr. Fischer swears by its properties of “liquid confidence”. He instructed our group who was suffering from the famous Contiki cough to take a quick shot of Viennese blood , wait for it to settle then take two deep breaths. The irritation in the throat will be relieved by the air and the Schnaps. He said to take his word for it. Some did. I did not. Well, it wasn’t by choice, it was by accident that I did not heed his advise. See, among the flavours of Schnaps ready for us to sample, I first sipped and enjoyed the Strawberry Schnaps (yum!), then came the eggnog flavour (not so happy with that one), because I wasn’t so thrilled with eggnog I had to wash the taste down with the old style Viennese Peach, then the clear Viennese Schnaps followed. I then proceeded to sample the 23-carat gold leaf Schnaps special, it came in a hand painted bottle and when you shake it the gold specks float to the top and it is like watching those snow globes. You know, those horrible gifts one receives for Christmas!…but oh boy, I’d love to receive this gold flecked bottle for Christmas or any other holiday for that matter!

By the time I got to the table where they had Viennese blood I had already sampled most of the flavours and of course I had already forgotten what Mr. Fischer told us about the blood and how it should be taken. I sipped it (instead of taking it as a shot), felt my tongue go numb, swallowed it and felt it score down my throat and settle rather heatedly in my tummy. I took short breaths (instead of two deep ones) and in every inhalation I took I felt my insides burn! My throat was burning, my eyes were watering, and I couldn’t talk! I felt I was dying of nerve gas…oh my god! Somehow Fraser saw in me in agony and helped me stagger away from the table. He held me up and helped me get in the loo. It was embarrassing but he stayed with me. If you recall my previous e-mails, I said Fraser is a sheep farmer from New Zealand. Well, I don’t know if it was because I was bloody drunk and not in control of my tongue, or if he was sober and in command of his that I finally understood him. We finally had a decent conversation and I found out that he is not a sheep farmer, but a cattle farmer. That he came to the tour not for the museum culture but for the cuisine (more like the beverage) culture. That he is a sweet man and a successful farmer. The previous year was his year to show his family that he could run the farm all his own. He did. And the profits soared! Hence, his dad told him to take a year off. A year! How much money dad this guy rake in? Well, tons.

The other Viennese beverage I sampled and enjoyed is the coffee. According to Jen, in her tour guide voice, the Turks left sacks and sacks of coffee beans at the gates of Vienna after they got defeated by the Viennese army. And the Viennese did things to the coffee beans like no other culture. Folks, there is nothing like Viennese coffee. It is a rich, thick, creamy, deliciously addicting potion. Taken with apple strudel on a cold day, the combination divine. Taken on its own, heavenly. Spiked with Schnaps, this coffee can make gods out of men! And the caffeine is good too!

Shopping. This is where I felt like kicking myself in the ass for being hasty in my decision to leave when I left the States. Let me explain. We went to the Swarovsky Crystal Museum. The place is fantastic! The guide told us that to step into the museum is to step into a fantasy world and we should be prepared to leave our world weary travelling shoes at the door if we are to enjoy the museum. And indeed she was right. There was a dome made of crystal where the one standing in the middle becomes the most precious facet. There was a lava flow where the crystals take the place of the hot lava. There was the astro lab where crystals take to the sky. The crystal wall where 40 tons of crystal lend their brilliance to the place. My favourite is the meditation room where a solitary crystal is placed and a booming voice (of God?!) invites one to contemplate on the beginning of life and the end of life. Where the voice spoke of our mothers who like brilliant stars guide our journey across the sky. Where the voice spoke of finding the many facets of oneself and showing it to the world or letting the world witness its brilliance. In this room I managed to stay centered and stretched a few minutes of respite to a long satisfying time of Being. I understood what the good book said about making the moment last forever and extending the here and now to infiniti. Deep? Too deep for understanding? You guys had to be there.

So, I said that I wanted to kick myself for my hasty departure…yes, right. See the crystals were so many and so affordable, but because I budgeted my tour to the last cent, souvenirs and gifts will have to left out. But the crystals were so bright and I found perfect crystal gifts for my family and friends. I had to walk away from the crystal shop with nothing but an angry feeling. I was angry with myself for not getting that second job or for not working overtime or not even staying longer at Waveworks… wait, I musn’t feel like that. My timing for leaving was perfect. My money situation is what made me feel crummy, I wish I had unlimited funds or maybe just enough funds for gifts. Oh well. Let it be. I was thinking of all you precious people in my life and mentally was shopping for you all. Please accept a brilliant thought from me…a thought clear and direct…my best regard and sincere reflection. Happy thoughts everyone!

City Centre, Vienna. In the middle of Kartnerstrasse is St Stephen’s Cathedral and I say this church rivals the ones in Italy. The architecture is gothic and the interior is beyond worldly description. If there is a place where angels would seek a safe haven, I believe they will fly down to St. Stephen’s. This cathedral is built on holy ground and for this self-confessed-anti-organized-religion freak, I found my church in Vienna. There was a Catholic mass being celebrated that evening Tracy and I walked and ate our way across Kartnerstrasse. The choir was singing and I felt so at peace with the world and at peace with myself. I lit a candle for gratitude and blessed all that I have seen, touched, felt, thought and experienced thus far. I prayed the prayer I have not said before…the prayer of a grateful child. Thank you. Danke schone. Oh gosh! Vienna is indeed my new favourite city.

At the other end of Kartnerstrasse is the Danube River. Contrary to the popular belief and the song composed by Strauss, the Danube River is not blue. It is Green! But they say if you are in love the Danube looks blue to you. So I say, please pass me those blue shades for I want to be in love…and I wouldn’t mind dancing the waltz either in front of the golden statue of Strauss….. Hmmmmm….

Free e-mail…only in Vienna at the Amadeus building did I encounter a free internet service. A cup of Joe is not even required. Just show up, park your rear in one of the ultra modern seats and start typing rather touch-screen typing. Now if I were an internet hog I would have stayed there for a long time, I am not and I had enough time to start an e-mail and save the draft. Guess what the subject of that e-mail was? Ha ah ha …

I sing the body electric so says that great American poet Walt Whitman. Uncle Walt knew what it means to YAWP…to sing from your heart, to shout from the top of your lungs…MANALIVE! to smell and be drunk with the scents of the woods. The Vienna woods. We had dinner there and with the moon full and high in the sky, the cold stinging air around, the rustling of the leaves, in a tight circled embrace with Tracy, Sam and Tippy, I sang American Pie. Some of you witnessed what I had to do to understand American Pie…heck I played that song over and over and over, sometimes singing along with it, but not until I got to sing it in the Vienna woods did I come to a clearer appreciation for its melody and words. Yes, American Pie chronicles American history from the sixties to the seventies and it was very clever of the composer to have written the song the way he had written it…was it Cat Stevens? (Steve? Do you remember?!) But the song sings not of bad memories in history, or the litany of pain growing up, but for me, American Pie sings of making a difference, NOW! Live! Live ! Live!

Hopfgarten. I laughed my most belly-aching laugh while in Hopfgarten. We stayed in the Contiki Chalet and as most ski lodges go the place was comfy enough. What inspired my unstoppable laughter were the stunts pulled by the guys in our tour. There were three other tour groups staying at the Chalet when we got there, hence a party invite was released. The theme…shock your mother party! And what did the boys do, dare you ask? Well, their idea of shocking dear old mum is to dress in drag. With that they asked us to loan them our dresses, bras, stockings, make up and perfume. I was asked to apply the rouge, I obliged. Ha ha ha ha …some of the boys were frighteningly pretty. Christian, with his perfect features all made up, hair in a bow and a little black dress to fit his figure…he looked better than most girls in our tour…heck he looked better than me on most days! Fraser looked like one’s Aunt Bruhilda, he was an ugly woman. And Jim, well, he had charm and with the horn rimmed glasses he had on, well, he could be the mousy librarian ready for some action! Daniel was statuesque and looked divine in the long black, slinky dress borrowed from Sarah. Paul was the blonde slut. Male or female he still radiates like a slut. He is our token male whore. Oh-oh…my claws are showing… gr.. gr… gr...down girl…May I ask the menfolk…what is the fascination with the female breasts? I mean Paul could not be persuaded that his tah-tahs are too perky and that they should be a little lower than where he placed them. He kept of pinching them, caressing them and at one point he even tried to suck his own fake boobies. Pathetic. Grumpy did the same with his set of melons… I laughed of course, but I also thought why do they do that? I mean breasts are breasts. They are perky when young and sagging when fondled too much and when gravity gets the better of them. They produce milk and nurtures babies. What is special about a pair of fatty globs with dark nubs? What? Please enlighten me! Someone please tell me!

So the boys dressed as girls and the girls dressed as pregnant nuns and druggies! Delightfully disturbed crowd I travelled with, aye?! Ha ah aha…for costumes the girls were so much more inventive. They used black garbage bags as frocks, the crosses were made from two band aids tuck together, the pillow case used as the head-dress. And their tummy? Well, towels I suppose. The second group of girls that came as druggies just heavily made up their eyes in dark rings and cheeks hollowed out. They were funny as well and pictures were taken of course! And me what did I go as? That would be telling…

Another thing which made me laugh with delight this time were the cows we passed on our way to town in Hopfgarten. The cows really had bells tied around their necks and when they reach for the grass the bells would go off. Now get a couple of dozen cows doing this and they create a sort of concert…fun to hear and amusing to listen to. I laughed and laughed and laughed. Summer and Cameron found my laughter amusing. But they couldn’t discount the fact that those cows were a source of delight. After hearing them eat, I have a better appreciation for the expression…until the cows come home… ha ha hahahahah…

The hour is late, my spirit is at peace, but my body aches. Peace to all. Goodnight.

I am Mary Grace, merry many graces indeed.
October 1999