Pigging Out

There's something about this Vienna that's really all about "high culture". Maybe it's the profusion of castles and the museums, but I think it's the way people really feel here. It seems like a culture-orgy kind of town.

Schonbrunn Palace, for instance, is not normal. You can go on a tour that leaves your jaw dropped: elegance, opulance and scope. And when you leave, it dawns on you that there were still 1400 more rooms in the joint they DIDN'T show you. (Don't you want to sneak in and see those?)

We celebrated our Royal Daze by heading up to the mountains just out of town for a peasant's feast at a Heuriger, a local winery where the fare is simple, the wine comes in pitchers and the company... well, it's always great to be with friends. Larry and Klaudia have been treating us more like kings than commoners. We've made some new friends here. And now that Mike, Sharon, Dylan and Cody are in the house, the party is officially on.

I even think I'm starting to blend in. Ya think?

Pool Cues

Forget Mozart, culture and the fact that you can hardly swing a cat without hitting another 17th Century building. The coolest thing in Vienna, at least on a hot day, are the swimbads. There are a half dozen of these complexes in town.

We went to the Stadionbad, a 1920s socialist inspired joint. It's massive, meant to accommodate up to 20,000 swimming Austrians (and us) at a time.

When in Wien...

Ok. The cafe/pastry life is amazing.

As you can see, Randi blends right in.We went to Demel, a Viennese staple since 1786. We may need to do an intervention to get her back to New York...

Shot

First travel day here was rugged. Lots of planes trains and automobiles. The time change was a shock for both boys...

Isaiah melted faster than the gelato on MariaHilferStrasse.

August and I went to a bar across the street from the hotel at Midnight. I couldn't decide if it was wierder for the trance-music grooving, psychodelic lit patrons to be drinking next to an 8 year old, or if it was stranger for me to realize that my son is a more interesting conversationalist than people my age.

Either way, day 1 took it's toll.

It's 11:15AM, day 2, and here are my boys right now:

Schnitzel Gone Wild

Ok. It's not Austria. It's Brooklyn, at our local Schniztel Truck - which miraculously made it's first appearance outside the office the day we were leaving for Austria. A nice kick in the shorts reminding me that the world comes to NY - why bother with the rest of the world. And, to prove the point, the schniztel line had characters to beat the band.

Come on Austria - you've got some splaining to do.

Keying Out

I hate keys. I hate carrying them, I hate using them.

Keys are a sign of responsibilities and burdens. On my own 14 oz key ring, I have:

4 house keys because everything needs to be locked down like a prison in this town

4 Office keys (the front door - which needs to be repaired, by the way) has three alone

1 bike lock key, because people steal shit in this town

1 huge car key, complete with an alarm setting - a constant reminder not only of how vulnerable my vehicle is, but how much money I still owe

1 key to the tenants door, in case I have to cope with some emergency

Every key is another thing I have to do, another dose of pressure, another expense.

My kids don't carry keys. They leave the house with nothing in their pockets at all.

That's freedom.

The good news is that, starting today, I do not need them.

For the next 23 days, we're going to Europe. Oh the things we will see. But, more important to me are the things we leave behind: the problems, the responsibilities, the commitments, the payments and the routine.

Sure, on a long trip, 'life as it was' will simply be lurking like a timebomb, ready to blow our peace somehow. Relaxation is best - and perhaps only - available in small doses.

But off we go, to the home of Hitler, lederhosen and copious liters of lager. (Is that a good combination...?)