Vienna Woods

Ladies and gentleman, I give you Kahlenburg, my favorite place in Vienna.  This is actually the view from Leopoldsburg, another hilltop on the outskirts of town complete with very very old church.  This picture was taken outside of that church.  This church can be seen in the distance in some very romanticized portraits of Beethoven composing in the Viennese countryside, the same countryside that you are looking at right now (ooooooo, ahhhhhh!).  

This was a gorgeous day on which Laura, Elisabeth, and I decided to go for a hike.  We had attempted to get to Leopoldsburg before, but had failed.  And this attempt was no easy task either.  Typically you take a bus up the hill to Kahlenburg and then you can take the footpaths along the street or, if your rather adventurous like us, through the woods, to get to Leopoldsburg.  Although, most of the people who decide to take the adventurous route can read the maps at the top of the hill.  We could not, so we guessed at which path to take.  This guessing game led us downhill for about a half hour until we came to the bottom of the hill.  I don't know where our logic was in thinking that downhill equaled "ascent to hill next door," but somehow it didn't register.  So we ended up by the Donau, decided to have a picnic by the river, feed some swans, read a bit, and then trekked back up to where we had begun (Kahlenburg).  At that point we were all so pooped that we decided to just take the bus from Kahlenburg to Leopoldsburg.  And it was a good choice if you ask me.  I wasn't willing to take anymore chances that day.  Anyway, as you can see, it was absolutely stunning.   And I'm excited to go back for more.  I hear some of the trees are changing color now... : )

Here are more pictures of the hike:

Vineyards.  You can see the Donau beyond them.
Da Woods.

When we finally reached the top!  Yay Leopoldsburg!

And here is a link to a video we took

Getting caught up

Well, Vienna is starting to feel more like home. It's kind of nice. German is becoming slightly more decipherable and with that, my attempts at evesdropping on public transportation are a little more fruitful. The weather is getting colder, though not too cold. It's kind of funny. People get completely bundled up almost to the point where you'd excpect them to be yelling "I can't put my arms down!" and then you go outside and realise that it's about 50 degrees. I'm anticipating a milder winter than I've been used to in the past and I'm GLAD for it.

I've got a couple things I'd like to cover with this post, so I'll get to it.

First of all, the schnitzels and the gelato and the bratwurst and the nutella and everything else in between is starting to take a toll on my girlish figure. Not that I care, but I really can't afford to buy a whole new wardrobe while I'm here, seeing as the dollar is losing a bit of it's clout these days, what with the stock market's kursplat and the euro's ever exploding muscle in this world. H&M is cheap, but it ain't that cheap. And InterSpar isn't exactly WalMart. Soo.....seeing as I can't fit into half of my pants (and I only brought 4 pairs) I decided to start taking walks around my neighborhood in hopes of maintaining an acceptable weight. I should post pictures of my neighborhood. If you read Laura's blog and her descriptions about the area, you'd understand. It's not European looking at all. We're in the 21st district and I believe all of the American's I've come in contact with have described it as Vienna's Ghetto. It's fairly accurate. Just imagine a bunch of apartment buildings smeared with that gross concrete siding, scattered kebab stands on the corners, electronic stores, erotic spas (complete with darkened windows with the website in the window, www.relaxxx.at), and so on.  Very few trees, very few patches of grass, just birds and bugs crawling over old black chewing gum stuck to the sidewalks.  Not very picturesque.  But even so, I needed to get out and walk around.  So you can imagine how thrilled I was to exit my apartment building, hang a left, walk down the street a bit and find five minutes later that it dead ended into....THE DONAU RIVER????  Shut up!  I was so excited!  Look!  Water!  Ducks!  Grass, trees, flowers, people!  I walked all the way to the Ubahn station, about 35 minutes away.  And since then, I've been walking down there almost every day.  I walk to school now, instead of taking the Strassenbahn, so that I can get in a morning walk and then hop on the Ubahn the rest of the way.  I walk down there to read, to pray, to sit, to watch the sunset.  It's amazing.  It's almost better than the Metroparks.  Granted, not as much variety, but I haven't finished exploring yet : )

Second thing.  I'm a little sad that both Laura and I have failed to mention the new force of nature in our lives that is our voice teacher, Althea-Maria Papoulia.  What a woman.  Everyone needs to know about Althea-Maria Papoulia.  Before I expound upon all of the amazing things she's done for me in the five lessons I've had with her, I'd like to give a quick biography of her.  She was born to Greek parents in Canada, grew up in Boston, studied voice in Canada, London, worked in Germany, and probably several other places in between.  Her resume is about eight pages long.  She has sung everywhere and played almost every major role that I can think of.  She speaks Greek and English at the native level, German and Italian fluently, and French and Spanish at an intermediate level.  She married her husband, an Austrian man named Alexander Steinburger who also happens to the Vice Principal violinist for the Vienna Philharmonic, at the age of 36.  She has an amazing little girl named Ariadne who is five years old, can speak German and Greek, play the violin and has an eye for art.  You would too if your mother bought you the marker set with more than 12 colors when you were three so that you "could learn to distinguish the subtle differences between oranges and reds and yellows."  She's eccentric, but a whole lot of fun.  She's a diva, but man, does she know what she's talking about.  

I don't have enough room here to talk about how much trouble I've had with my vocal chords in the past four years, but understand this:  I still can't really sing without having any pain.  I've never learned how.  I come into my first voice lesson and she explains, after I tell her this, that she understands my dilemma because she has been injured before too.  And the best part is that she likes a good challenge.  And she's positive she can help me.  She's patient with me and extremely encouraging.  She doesn't push.  She tells me that when I start hurting, stop.  She tells me to start slowly and softly.  She doesn't get discouraged with me at all.  And by my third lesson the wobble that I have ben trying to get rid of for the past two years was gone, I was floating B flats and a pianissimo, and I had gotten up to a high G without any pain.  She was surprised and proud.  Oooo, and guess what??  I know how to sing with my diaphragm now!  Throughout my voice training since I was 10 I've been told to breathe with a belt around my middle, lying down on the floor with a telephone book on my abdomen, and to "inflate my inner inner-tube."  I've tried standing on my head in practice rooms.  I've even been told NOT to use my diaphragm, that breath for singing should just come naturally.  That hasn't worked out for me so well thus far.  And after working with her and her telling me to practice, I was walking home the other day from school panting and kicking my belly in with quick breaths and popping out consonants at the top of my lungs (I'm sure every person around me thought I was INSANE) and I FINALLY GOT IT!!!!  After ten years of trying to figure this crap out.  I love this woman! 

 And we have really fun conversations, about Austrian politics and American politics and how crazy it is to watch her daughter develop as quickly as she does.  She talks about how she found out her husband had cancer a month after they married and how they overcame it.  She talks about all of her roles, how she loved playing Tosca because she got to throw herself off of a building onto a big foamy mat at the end of every performance.  She also gives me instructions about life, like how you should try to learn any new language in a foreign country the first six months you live there or else it becomes really difficult and which herbal teas are the best for the digestive tract.  At our last lesson, I saw a Sweet Kissing Icon (Orthodox depiction of Virgin and Christ child) on her fireplace and asked if she was a practicing Orthodox.  She said yes and was surprised to know that I was too.  I think I'm actually going to try and find her church tomorrow to celebrate the Liturgy.  She's been everywhere, knows a whole lot, and everything she says is genuine.  Laura and I are very blessed to get to work with her for a few months.  I wish it could be longer, but I'm enjoying it while I can and hoping that I can carry everything that she's teaching me back home.  She's trying to convince us to come back in the future and study with her again.  Hey, after I graduate and finish paying off college debt, who knows??

That's all for now.  More later.

Update on Munich

Guess who's been updating. Laura! Go look at her blog : )

www.lovinglifeinVienna.blogspot.com

Ok...so it's been a bit of a long day and I'm about a week behind, but I won't be very sucessful in updating the entire week because I am typing on a German keyboard and I only have 18 mins to be online!

First things first, Laura and I are in Munich! We decided to come up here a few weeks ago because Eric, her BF, was coming in with a group from Ohio state and we thought it would be fun to meet them. We got in yesterday on a train that went through the mountains. Met a few cool people, one woman who helped us decipher a Garfield cartoon in German and then a group of English girls who had just done a whirlwind tour of Europe before having to return back to school. What a hard life.

We arrived around noon at our hostel, which is actually pretty nice. There are people here from all over the world (and a lot of them speak english, so it's nice to communicate with people without having to use a translation book for a change). We are staying in a dormitory style room, which is basically a huge room with 22 beds or so altogether. Besides people turning on the lights when we're trying to sleep at midnight (which I will admit is pretty early for a Friday night in a European hostel), it's been a worthwile expense.

Laura and I had yesterday to do whatever, and we hadn't really planned for anything, so we just started walking around to check out the city. We're in the center of town so it's a lot easier to get around on foot here than in Vienna. We were starving so we headed out to see if we could find a bite to eat. And what do we find amidst the Kebab and Chinese places scattered all over the streets? Subway! I think we hugged each other on the street corner we were so excited. We snarfed the food and headed back to the hostel for a free tour we had heard them mention when we had first checked in. I can't think of a better way to have spent my day. I learned so much about the city and Laura and I met a guy named Mike, who is a couch surfer. For those of you who don't know what that is (and don't feel bad, because I didn't either), it is someone in a network of people online who can just log on and find a couch to sleep on in any city in the world. For free! It's all based on references that are given you on the website. You have to get references in order to be accepted to stay somewhere, so it's kind of hard to just start being a couch surfer without knowing one, but now that I know one...free lodging baby! Or so I hope...

Anyway, aside from learning a whoooole lot about Munich (which I'll have to expound upon in another post at a later time), we got to hang out with Mike and met his friend Kim. We ate a lot of German meat and a lot of gellato for dinner and walked around the city just eating and tossing travel stories back and forth. They had a lot more than I did, so I did most of the listening. But, to make a long story short, Kim and I found out that we have a mutual friend. Kim, this random girl from Canada that I meet in the middle of Europe worked at a hostel in Ireland for the summer with my friend from church in Solon, Annie! She mentioned that she had a friend in Ireland who played the mandoline and originally lived in West Virginia. All of this fit Annie's profile to a T, and honestly, how many mandoline playing West Virginians can there be in Ireland at once? It totally turned out to be the same person and we freaked out at the idea that the world had just shrunk about 100 sizes down. So cool!

Today was spent at Dachau, the concentration camp that modeled all of the concetraiton and extermination camps that were created during the 3rd Reich in Germany. It was an incredibally sobering experience. It was a very blustery and kind of cold day, which I think was appropriate for this place. I swear I didn't see or hear a single bird the entire time I was there. I learned a whole lot and was incredibally moved by just standing in the places where this dark period in human history had really begun. I'll have to write more about my experience there later, seeing as I'm running out of time!

More in depth details on Munich adventures later!

Get out of town!

I have this weird pet peeve.  It developed back in elementary school when my and my best friend's (Roxanne) families used to go camping together over Spring Break.  One year a guy named John came on the trip with Roxy's family.  At night I remember him walking around the campsite in circles, looking up at the forested mountains and cliffs surrounding us, and gazing at the sky as if he were trying to put together some cosmic puzzle.  I asked him what the heck he was doing.  "I have to know where north is.  I can always tell by looking at the sky.  If I don't know which direction I'm facing, I feel lost."  He also enjoyed climbing up to the top of the ridge at night to look at the entire camp ground.  A little dangerous, but again, a way to get a better overall idea of where you are.  John was quite obviously a boy scout and, as I thought at the time, a bit of a control freak.  But now I understand John's desire to orient himself with his surroundings.  I feel as though I understand so much more about a place when I know where I am in the grand scheme of things.  I mean, sure, a boy scout needs to know which direction to walk in if he gets separated from the troop because, silly him, when nature called he got distracted and took a little to much time making fun designs in the dirt.  But a girl in the middle of Vienna with a detailed map and oodles of street signs doesn't need to know instinctively where her house is.  It's laid out perfectly in drab, pastel, typical map colors.  And yet, I need to know.  And, in true John fashion, I had been craving the opportunity to get up somewhere high and look out over my new home.

I finally got this opportunity on Friday when Laura and I got invited to go on a trip by our friends Elizabeth and Ayla to the outskirts of town.  Vienna is in the middle of a valley.  There are two high peaks on the hills surrounding the city called Kahlenberg and Leopoldsberg, popular spots to go sit and gawk at the city below contemplating "Dang, I had no idea there were so many copper green domey things!" or  "Man, the attractions at the Prater look like they're made out of toothpicks."  The best part is that you get to ride all the way up into the mountains and watch the city turn from a scummy Ubahn bus stop, to a quaint cobblestone, rustic-village motif, to rolling vineyards, and then finally you're on a small winding road in the forested hillside with glimpses of a tinker toy Vienna peeking through the trees.  And once you get to the top...you can finally see where you fit into the grand scheme of things.  

I found out that I was suspended on the north west side of town, with the Danube running right through it.  I could see the Ubahn bridges suspended over the river and the hillside barrier on the other side of the city.  I love that you can actually see where the city begins and ends.  When you're driving up high on the Spaghetti-bowl intersections of 410 and I-10 in San Antonio (which is one of the best panoramic views in town), it just looks like someone had a bag full of urban sprawl and dumped it sporadically all over central Texas.  It has no limits and just keeps on expanding, like a virus.  But here, the city knows it's limits.  It knows not to trespass outside the natural partition that encloses it, keeping Vienna secure and the natural beauty of the hills sacred.  

We fell in love with Vienna at the first peak, Kahlenburg, while snarfing organic cafe treats (specifically chocolate parfaits, coconut ice cream served in the coconut husk, strawberry cake, and potent cherry/apple juice).  As we sat and ate our food, we drank in the view.  Spectacular.  There are actually foot paths that start at the beginnings of the forested area and follow alongside the bus route up the hill to the two peaks.  We weren't quite sure where to get on the bus that would take us from Kahlenburg to Leopoldsberg, so we decided to try a footpath.  Our newly acquired sense of direction really didn't have much say in which path we took to get to the second peak.  The map was in German and kind of confusing, so we just chose one at random.  It ended up that we were actually going the right way, but we didn't have enough time to walk all the way to point B and make it in time for the last bus back down the hill.  Instead, we meandered a bit down the path and came across a lovely little field with picnic tables and a swing set.  Complete with tire swing.  And right next to a bus stop.  There was a little outdoor cafe right next to it.  I'm not quite sure how we came off to it's patrons because we were being very loud and frolicking idiotically through the field.  We really must have seemed obnoxious to all present, but it didn't matter.   Liz took awkward pictures of the magnetic Lobster that she keeps in her purse and of Laura while I went out into the field to make a crown of wildflowers...I know we're special cases, you don't have to say anything.  Then we all had a turn being the subjects of "the senior pictures that never happened" with the crown atop each of our heads as we warmly embraced the swing set poles.  Nice.  I left the crown hanging on the swing set as a token of my appreciation to it for letting us pose on it and hold it inappropriately.  Overall, it was an incredibly peaceful and adventurous day.  I can't wait to get back up there again.  And I'm glad Vienna and I have taken the next step in our relationship together.  I get Vienna now (from a birds eye perspective) and Vienna gets me.  And we're kind of a big deal.

Hey guess what???  I'm at a really great advantage being here with Laura, my roommate, because she has already done half of this blogging work for me.  Seeing as I have little to no patience to write about the last two weeks and would rather pick up with today, I'm just going to post the link to Laura's blog where you can read about all of our adventures up to...last Sunday there.  Enjoy!

http://lovinglifeinvienna.blogspot.com

8-24-08 12:40 pm

Journal entry nummer zwei

 The night I first arrived I was too afraid to plug in my computer (even with a $40 dollar adapter set from the Mac store and with Macs being the world's most versatile computer, I was convinced that even plugging in a power cord with nothing attached to it would still start Europe's largest electrical fire) so I went straight to sleep.  I slept for 12 hours, woke up at 9:00 am and....Laura (roomie) and her mom arrived at 9:30!  Yay native English speakers!  We went to eat at a Chinese restaurant that was, I'm happy to say, the worst food I've had since I've been here (let me explain).  And it wasn't even bad, which should be a hint at the posts and pictures to come that will be fully devoted to meals that I've had (I take pictures of my food like an anxious mother takes pictures of her new born child).  The rest of that day was spent wandering up and down Donaufelderstrasse (my street) looking for a place that sold stuff we needed AND took Visa, which was difficult to find.  

One of our primary goals was to find Laura a cellphone that costed less than her immortal soul, so we ended up in this little hole in the wall cell phone place that was also an internet cafe.  Initially, our conversation with the salesmen was tedious because they didn't speak English well and our German was even worse.  Then one of the guys let the word "despues" slip and I was like "Spanish??  Can I turn this on now?"  So I, with my piecemeal knowledge of the Spanish language, proceeded to engage in a sales deal with this guy, translating best I could to Laura and Dyan as we went.  Spanish in Germany.  I wasn't expecting that.  A conversation that should have lasted five minutes ended up lasting about forty-five.  I told him that I was grateful for how patient he was with me and that I needed to practice my spanish.  He said that I should come back and talk to him every once in a while.  I asked his name: Karim.  He had called the cell phone from his phone after putting  it together to see if the card worked and was confused when I told him that the phone was for my friend, not for me.

"So you don't have a number now?" he asked.  

"No, I don't have a phone yet," I replied.

"But she has my number," he nodded to Laura and smiled.

"Yes.  Yes she does."

I have failed to mention that this was the second request for my phone number since I had arrived and this was only my second day.  Murat had also written down his number on the steering while  for me while weaving through highway traffic at stomach-churning speed the day before .  No one has spontaneously asked me for my phone number in a very very VERY long time (or maybe never).  I can't quite figure out if it's just because guys are nicer here or trying to take advantage of American girls.  Either way, it was an experience at least.  And Laura got a phone.  To tell you the truth I was just surprised at the fact that I was able to speak to this guy for so long and understand about %90 of what he was saying.  You mean four years of Spanish in school actually payed off?  No way...It was really encouraging.   

After collecting several other odds and ends that we needed and taking them back to the room it was already time for dinner.  We ended up at a quaint little Italian place just down the road.  The waiter showed us to our table, half bent over in a bow with arm extended with "bitteshön, bitteshön"  falling out of his mouth with every step he took.  He was very nice and got our orders quickly.  He failed to mention, though, that the measurement of the pizzas was based on a scale established in Reno, Nevada.  These were the "Biggest Little" pizzas I've ever seen in my life, but also the BEST pizza I've ever tasted.  Laura got a cheese, Dyan got a mushroom, and I got a spinach pizza with spinach, bacon, salami, tomatoes, and...a sunny-side up egg??  Both the presence and deliciousness of this unlikely additive surprised me.  Tastiness.  

While we were waiting for the check at the end of the meal Cindy Lauper came on the radio  and I began to wiggle a little, which turned into full blown getting down in my seat.  Laura and Dyan were laughing at me, but I didn't care.  It was so happy to be there.  I was in Europe eating delicious food with my friends and listening to awesome music and if the mood so moved me, I was going to dance, darnit.  In my frenzied jig I failed to notice immediately that there was a man about two tables down dancing with me, or mocking me.  I couldn't quite tell which.  Whateva.  We were having fun.  A few minutes later he shouted over to me "Speak English?" 

"Yes," I replied.

"Now I understand," he announced.

I laughed.  Am I so obviously an American?  I guess the answer to that answer is "duh."  He asked where I was from, so I said USA, Texas.

"Texas, ja?  Bush?"

I started waiving my arms like an umpire calling "safe" and shaking my head frantically to try and show as ardently as possible that I wasn't a supporter.  I think he and his friend got the message.  Then they said something about California and referred to Schwehrzneggah...I could not understand, but should have used context clues.  

"Arnold Schwarzenegger is a very good man," the other man at the table said.  Oh.  So that's how you REALLY pronounce it.  "Schwartzinayger" sounded so stupid after the way this guy pronounced Arnold's last name.  We agreed that he was indeed a good guy.  (I like his movies, I guess.  Especially Kindergarten Cop.  I didn't mention this part, though).  Then the guy who had been dancing with me chimed in to correct his friend's English and said, "Arnold Schwarznegger is a very good woman."  Needless to say, Laura, Dyan, and I busted a gut at this comment and so did the guys, apparently knowing what they had said.  We were able to pack up the half of the pizzas that we were unable to finish to take home, which I was surprised about.  Doggie bags are kind of taboo, seen as gluttonous, or just non existent in Europe.  But I was not about to leave that pizza behind, even if I had to sacrifice my reputation at this restaurant as the American fatty who can't dance.  But having gotten the opportunity to take it home, I was very grateful.  Then we went down the street in order to further legitimize that reputation as we purchased copious amounts of gelato.  It was a good day.  Pictures later.

Welcome to Yurp

So...it's been two weeks and I've finally collected enough shards of motivation to start a blog and believe you me, this wasn't an easy task. I have been reading "Eat Pray Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert (thanks Mom!), a memoir that recounts the author's journey of how to balance pleasure and spirituality across Italy, India, and Indonesia (three countries that begin with "I", which is ironic seeing as her journey is one of self discovery). Reading her awesome descriptions of everything she encountered and her reflections about it all made me realize that, even if it takes a long time to write it all down, it will be good for me. I'll be able to preserve this trip all the more and I won't have to write it out in individual letters over and over again to folks back home who are interested. So here you go, guys. It might take me a while to play catch up with my first 2 weeks spent here, but I've got ample time to do many things I've never gotten to do, including spending hours reflecting, whether it be sitting in a park thinking or sitting at my computer typing it out. I hope you enjoy these adventures as much as I have. And I miss all of you!

Thus we begin the adventures with the journey here.  This is what I wrote in my journal on my initially traveling to Europe:

1:36 ET 

I just arrived in Detroit about an hour ago but I don' leave for another two and a half hours.  I saw Rick (dad's friend who works at the airport) this morning and he helped me check in...to first class!  Rick tried to get me in all the way to Europe, but it wasn't available.  Oh well.  I did have an exceptionally tasty breakfast (as far as airplane food goes) of cereal, fresh fruit, and a croissant (a little cheese...on my croissant!).  

5:04 ET

I have like 40 DIFFERENT MOVIES to choose to project out of the back of this person's head in front of me.  (I think I ended up watching Batman Begins, a little bit of Hercules in German, and Anywhere But Here.  Hercules was the best because they actually translated all of the music too.  Gospel in German is the bees knees.)  

8:33 ET

Everyone around me is snoring. I guess I should try and do the same, although the only times I've been able to fall asleep this early in the past ten years is when it was induced by sickness.  This is weird.  

10:35 ET

We're getting a lot closer and I should totally be asleep right now.  I smell like plane.  I tried five different positions for sleeping and none of them worked.  The next night is probably going to be one of the best night's sleep I've had in a while.  I'm watching this great divide between me and Europe get smaller and smaller on this monitor at the front of the cabin.  There is a little plane flying over the Atlantic, blinking on and off as it scoots through various time zones.  And I am that plane.  I can't really believe how close it is.  Yes, I'm am literally going through a time warp (7 hours difference) but I feel like I'm traveling to another planet.  It's going to be really weird actually experiencing the other side of the world.   It's always been difficult for me to wrap my brain around the idea that people I've never seen or places I've never been to in person actually exist.  I mean, to me, they really don't.  I've never experienced them.   It's weird being able to recognize Angelina Jolie or the Eiffel Tower in a picture without pausing but then thinking about the fact that I've never seen either of them in my entire life...I'm going to actually experience things first hand that have only ever existed in my mind.  I get a headache if I think about this for too long.  I'm still scared about the language barrier, but I have another hour to get over that.  Once I see that Webster sign at the airport I'll be in my comfort zone.  Until then, I guess I'll just have to enjoy the ride.

11:04 ET

I've never eaten breakfast at 11:05 at night and 5:04 in the morning simultaneously before.

11:56 ET

My first glimpse: a European dawn : )

8:35 am Amsterdam

I've resolved that, after I have returned home in December, I am NEVER flying Northwest again.  I'm literally sitting in the Amsterdam airport thirty minutes before my plane to Vienna leaves and they won't let me board it.  They've rebooked me for a flight FIVE HOURS LATER.  I'M IN THE AIRPORT!!!!!  Why can't I just goooo?  I'm being taunted by Europe outside the window.  All that separates me from exploring the heck out of this place is some thick glass and wide expanses of runways.  I wonder if I can just bust through the window and hightail it across the tar mats, dodging planes and staircases on wheels, aiming for the city.  That might result in a jail sentence longer than my visa would allow for.  Ugh, I'm tired and annoyed and frustrated.  Oh look.  A bar.  

20:03.  In Vienna.  

So I didn't actually buy a drink, but it was weird to think that I could have without a problem had I wanted to.  The series of events that has actually brought me to the point where I can write this was much more drawn out than I originally thought it would be.  I finally boarded a plane to Vienna that left around 1 pm.  Granted, I was originally supposed to arrive at 9 in the morning.  I slept through most of the flight, which I kind of regret, but I absolutely needed it.  When I woke up, we were flying over rural west Austria.  Directly out my window (I had a window seat for the first time this trip and I was super grateful) I could see country and beyond that, the Danube!  And beyond that, the Alps!  Right over that mountain range was Slovenia and Italy.  CRAZY!  I'm so happy I got to see that because it was the first real European thing I got to see and enjoy, besides the company of my cab driver, Murat.  Oh, how I ended up in a cab is slightly important.  I basically now have a very pissed off shuttle driver person out in the city somewhere because apparently there was such a one waiting for me for an our after I landed in the semi circle outside customs with a sign.  I was in that exact same semi circle for an hour and a half and I'm telling you, I NEVER saw a Webster sign.  After calling Webster several times and finding out that it was now up to me to now find my own ride, I ended up paying $55 for a cabbie to take me to an address that I could barely understand over one of my phone calls to Webster.  Basically, the address was fishy and the moment I got in the car and saw that the street name I had gotten from Webster and the one on Murat's GPS did not match, I had a bit of a knot in my stomach.  After trying to point it out to him several times and having him shake his head as if it didn't matter, I tried to calm down a little.  I endured and slightly enjoyed the awkward, broken english come-ons while inhaling second-hand smoke and jamming to techno.  Once we got to the street where we presumed the dorm to be, we couldn't find it.  It ended in some heated phone arguments between the woman who had given me the address and Murat.  Ultimately we discovered that we were one building down from where we needed to be.  SERIOUSLY?  CAN I JUST FIND A TOILET AND A BED NOW?  I was quite grateful for both once the never ending journey finally came to a halt.  Lesson learned from those 37 hours:  no matter how much of a jam you manage to fall into, it ends up working itself out.  No worries.