More greetings, this time from Vienna! In less than an hour, David and I will be heading off to the bus station, where we hope to catch a ride to Venice overnight. We bought the last ticket, and are hoping - praying - that they'll be one more empty seat. I'm not ready to give up David -his companionship, handy backpack, and useful language skills - quite yet ;-)
Vienna feels much more like a city than Prague did; the quaint cobblestone roads we knew there have been replaced by cars and bikes and work-a-day people. Still, the sights of Vienna are nothing if they aren't grand. One of my favorite experiences was walking the Ringstrasse, or Ring Road, around the city's historic center. Around every corner was another towering Baroque structure; some were significant - the Museumquartier, Parliament, the Opera House - while others, equally impressive, did not earn even mention on the map. At one of these unmapped gems, the University of Vienna, David and I found ourselves in the midst of voting day, being encouraged in German to vote Communist. Ever the adventure.
The title of this blog comes from our experience watching Manchester United play Barcelona at a pub near the Naschmarkt. When I asked, in semi-desperation, why the kind old man I was sitting next to was laughing at the failure of the team he had bet on, his friend leaned over and explained, "it's ironic, love." The irony of Vienna to me has been that despite having the best possible accomodations and the grandest of attractions, the city seems to lack some essential spirit, or in the language of LPAP soccer, zhur-zhur.
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