Double for Seniors

Organ in the Grazer Dom

GRAZ, AUSTRIA Still in Graz, drinking a beer and enjoying the warm evening weather at an outdoor cafe along the Herrenstrasse, I made the acquaintance of a professor of music and an organist from Linz, Austria. After considerable small talk, he said, "I'm doing a concert at the Grazer Dom. You should stop by." The Dom, a 15th century gothic cathedral, has a massive pipe organ. Here was a chance to hear what one of these behmoths actually sounded like. I was a little put off though by the entrance price of ten Euro. "No Senior discount?" I asked. "No, it's double for seniors because it's double the pleasure," the ticket seller joked. The cathedral was filling up with somberly dressed gray haired folks. I sensed the same crowd that attended mass. I was in my shorts and feeling out of place, but thought, "What the heck," and plopped down my ten Euro. Our backs were to the organ which sits on a balcony covering the back of the cathedral. Promptly at eight, without introduction, Herr Dr. Wolfgang Kreuzhuber, with a sudden burst, filled the cathedral with the roar of the organ - the prelude to some recognizable church music - this might be interesting. But quickly transitioned to a piece or two by Shumann, I didn't like; a couple pieces by Bach, I didn't like either; concluding with some improvised pieces of his own creation, which I really didn't like. Ending promptly at nine, to the trained ears of the others, it was a phenomenal performance as they were still clapping as I exited the cathedral.

Austria Photo Album

Art Propaganda

Glockenspiel

GRAZ, AUSTRIA At the Graz City Museum there's a compelling exhibit of Steiermark artists during the Nazi reign showing how their art morphed into the propaganda machinery of the Third Reich as Graz became a showcase for the Nazi ideology. Just above, on the second floor, is a 1989 exhibit of photographs and quotes from prominant exiled Jews who returned after the war and spoke of the meaning and significance of their Jewish/German identities as survivors of the holocaust. On May 7, 1915, a German U-boat sunk the passenger ship Lusitania carrying 1,959 passengers, killing 1,198. Responsibility for the attack is still being debated. A German movie on TV last night implicated Churchill in his attempt to wrangle the Americans into the war. Juxtapose these images with the Glockenspiel near the center of town where two carved figures at 11 am, 3 pm, and 6 pm dance to the sound of the Glockenspiel - Graz, a beautiful city with a conflicted and troubling history that continues to fester although often nicely packaged in kitsch.

Schwarzenegger

Schlossberg Bell Tower

GRAZ, AUSTRIA The 2.5 hour train ride from Vienna to Graz winds through the Alps, over deeply carved ravines, through pitch black tunnels, around quaint mountain villages. A bachelor party had the entire car in stitches although I couldn't understand a word they were saying - they were speaking the Austrian dialect. The party, as I've become an expert on, involves giving the groom a coin - preferrably a Euro - who gives you a cigar or a small gift in return. No kisses - that's what the brides give out. In Graz, I headed for the town center and just happened upon the Schlossberg tunnel system built inside the Schlossberg to serve as an air raid shelter for up to 40,000 during WWII. From within the tunnel system I took the lift to the top of the Schlossberg, which purportedly was the strongest Renaissance fortification of all time. This didn't stop Napolean from capturing the city and the fortress in 1809 and razing all but the bell tower to the ground. None of this is as important though as Thal, a small town outside of Graz, and the birthplace of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Internet Access

Free Wifi

FRANKFURT, GERMANY On the flight to Vienna, I discussed the state of our economy with a gentleman who works for a medical intruments company in Tucson. He also found it ironic that the Germans with their spending cuts are having our lunch when it comes to stimulating economic growth. He also told me that he and his firm rely heavily on Skype to conference in and wherever possible select hotels that offer free wifi. Maybe if enough firms do the same, these larger hotel chains will get the picture and drop their wifi fees. In Cologne, Debra, Rachel, and I stayed at a Sheraton Hotel, which not only charged 15 Euro to access their internet but charged that for each computer. If the three of us had wished to use our computers to check emails, it would have cost us 45 Euro. It's odd that it's the expensive hotels that get away with these usury rates. The Sheraton also charged for breakfast and marked up their exchange rate 17% and not to be undone in unfriendliness they turned off the water for three hours just as Debra was soaping her hair. When I complained, the clerk said, "There are notices in the elevator." Contrast this to the Excelsior Hotel I stayed, next to the Hauptbahnhof in Frankfurt: half the price, breakfast and wifi included, and my room was quiet to boot.

Connecting Up

Ward, Inge, Dave, and Me

FRANKFURT, GERMANY They hadn't changed. Well, maybe a bit. The little hair that Dave had was gray. Inge, though, looked the same. And Ward, with a full head of grayless hair (what's with that?) looked almost thirty years younger. It had been 35 years. Dave, Ward, and I taught Engish at Berlitz in Frankfurt. Yet our memories were still fresh of those insouciant times so long ago. We laughed at our numerous follies, chided each other on the epic novels we have yet to write, and commissurated on our aging aches and pains. Dave and Inge live in the same apartment. Inge retired from flying with Lufthansa, Dave writes and sings Irish ballads, but mostly the two spend their retirement hiking mountains, running marathons, and traveling the world. Ward joined us later in the evening and the four of us hardly missed a beat from where we had left off 35 years ago as the jokes started flying. Dave's joke, with his heavy Irish brogue, about the Irish version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire took the prize. It's too long to repeat here and who could possibly tell it like a true Irishman.

Cologne Cathedral

Cologne Cathedral

COLOGNE, GERMANY Smiles and hugs as Debra, Rachel, and I reunited. The press conference they produced for EA was exhausting but successful. Rachel and I climbed to the top of the Cologne Dome while Debra waited below nursing a sprained ankle. Like other cathedrals, it’s a work in progress, pieces decaying and falling off. Like ants crawling around on the scaffolding, workers methodically replace and repair the crumbling parts. Left to its own, how long would it take for the Cathedral to come down? Many cathedrals in Europe have far more art, but no cathedral is so staggering in size. Incomprehensible how a cathedral this size built over several centuries could have come together as a single masterpiece. The allies understood this flattening the city of Cologne while leaving the Cathedral untouched. The Nazis took advantage of this diplomatic delicacy and built their headquarters beneath the Cathedral where they discovered ancient Roman ruins. We were a half hour too late to take the tour of the ruins.

Number One in Quality

VIENNA, AUSTRIA As I leave Vienna for Cologne, I ponder how Mercer Consulting rated Vienna number one in quality of life. Certainly they weren't considering the needs of the roving anthropologist who insists that everything be centrally located; train station, hotels, old town, from whence to explore the city's environs. Vienna falls far short of these criteria. There are four major train stations: Westbahnhof, Sudbahnhof, Meidling, and Simmering. None is near the center of town and each an important arrival/departure point depending on where you're coming from and where you want to go, which poses a problem on deciding where to stay when your future travel plans are uncertain. To be sure, Vienna is a beautiful city steaming with cultural opportunities; concerts, theater, art galleries, museums, and historical sites, but would I rate it above San Francisco (ranked 37 ) - never. San Francisco is the second ranked US city after Honolulu (ranked 35). Can they be serious? I can only suspect that it must have been Vienna's Mercer office who conducted the survey and after that drew cities out of a hat.

Germany on the Move

The Austrian Arrow to Cologne had very good in-flight service, fresh salad and a glass of wine, along with a newspaper of your choice. I chose Die Zeit and read an article on how the German economy is growing as fast as China’s (7.8% vs. 8.0%) compared with the US projected growth rate of 2.4%. The article quotes Paul Krugman as praising Germany’s financial crisis management. I had to read that two, three, times to make sure I got it right – Paul Krugman praising Germany's conservative economic management, huh? Yep, that’s right.

The Tower of Babel

Tower of Babel

VIENNA, AUSTRIA For 16th and 17th century European art enthusiasts, you'll enjoy the Rubens, Vermeers, Rembrandts, and Durers at the Kunsthistorisches Museum. Halle 12 is where you'll find the paintings of Pieter Bruegel, the Elder, the 16th century Dutch artist, who paints complex scenes of human activities often with a sardonic twist. The Tower of Babel is my favorite and worth the price of the ticket. The picture depicts the building of the Tower of Babel described in Genesis. Unaware that the Tower is doomed to failure, tilting and crumbling, the workers continue to labor on. It's an intriguing theme and one whose essence is captured in a series of etchings, by a another artist, we have at home, in which one progresses from an idylic hopeful scene, through a series of challenges, to a scene of death and distruction. The series of prints we own is called "Journey to Find Out." In Bruegel's painting, the hubris of achieving immortality by building a tower to heaven is doomed to fail, resulting in death and destruction for the workers and the town sitting at the foot of the tower. For a "wannabe" roving anthropologist, Bruegel is the perfect roll model.

Austrian Capitol

From the art museum, I went to the Austrian Parliament, a greco roman edifice, where I joined a bilingual German/English guide, who, in describing the events surrounding WW II, said, "Hitler marched into Austria in 38 and the allies occupied Austria until 55 before we gained our freedom." That was that. Nothing more to report. End of subject. She continued on to show us the chambers and explain how their parliamentary system works. There wasn't any discussion - just rat-a-tat-tat and we were through in our alotted fifty minutes. From the Parliament, I walked over to St. Stephen with its obligatory scaffolding, recalling that I had yet to see a cathedral in Europe without scaffolding, and reflecting back on Bruegel's The Tower of Babel. In 71, I had gone through St. Stephen, from the steeple down to the bones stacked in the catacombs. It was a good tour then, probably free, but now at 14.50 Euro, I decided to pass. I've seen a few cathedrals on this trip and I'm sure there'll be more to come.

Makes for an Adventure

BUDAPEST, HUNGARY This morning I read a CNN article on Elizabeth Gilbert. You've probably heard of her and her book, "Eat, Pray, Love," now a movie, staring Julia Roberts, about her experiences traveling solo. Her sentiments mirror what I've been saying in this blog except for the large numbers, especially women, she and the article claim are traveling alone. Maybe, among the ubiquitous young backpackers, on their summer breaks, you'll find some; but I haven't, as yet, met a single older woman traveling alone and just one man, the AIDS activitist. Gilbert says, "There's just something romantic, exhilarating and liberating about the idea of setting off on your own and exploring the world and yourself along the way. No companion? No problem. Being alone simply forces a traveler to open up more, whether out of loneliness, curiosity or boredom. You cannot have the experiences traveling with a partner that you have traveling alone." To be sure, it's about getting out of your comfort zone and seeing what happens.

Golden Park Hotel

I've stayed mostly in three-star hotels and accommodations and prices have more or less been appropriate. However, the Golden Park Hotel in Budapest was the furthest thing from a 4-star hotel (their designation) you can find. I couldn't take a shower without flooding the bathroom floor. The sink had a crack in it. The safe deposit box didn't work. On two occasions, without knocking, a cleaning woman charged into the room. The breakfast was ugh, awful! Breakfasts, in general, have gotten worse. In the Balkins, you got fresh herring and lox, bellini pancakes, and freshly fried ham and eggs. The herring, lox, and pancakes disappeared in Poland, and now the ham and eggs are gone. You're left eating cold cuts and rubbery cerial. I didn't say anthing about the breakfast to the desk clerk, but when I mentioned the bathroom and safety deposit box, he said, "There's nothing we can do about that." I don't know if he was reading my mind, but then added, "It makes for an adventure, doesn't it?"

Boring Modern Train

The train from Budapest to Vienna was brand new, factory smell, sterile, and univiting. The air conditioning, clean toilets, and electrical outlets were nice additions, but not being assigned a compartment, struggling with the windows for some fresh air, and the possibility of meeting someone new, this modern open seating contraption took all the charm and adventure out of traveling by train. The seats didn't even recline. I guess you had to ride premium class for that. And, it was twice as expensive to boot. Arriving in Vienna, I was reminded of my college winter break 1971. It was the first time I had been to Europe, puportedly to ski with a friend in St. Anton, but after a week of bad snow, and less than stellar skiing on my part, I headed to Vienna to explore on my own. On top of St. Stephen's Cathedral I met an Aussie, and together we did Vienna. We spent an afternoon at the Kunsthistorisches Museum, saw Puccini Tosca at the Opera House, and partied New Year's Eve at the Australian Embassy, where she worked.

Budapest Photo Album

Warm Saturday Night

BUDAPEST, HUNGARY After a day walking and sight seeing - the Royal Palace in Buda, another museum, and gallery - the sweltering heat forced me to retreat to the hotel early for a late afternoon nap. I zonked out thinking how nice it would be to go fishing for a week rather than see another museum or gallery. By the way, I need to clarify an earlier statement, Budapest was originally two cities, Buda and Pest. No one so far has been able to tell me what the names mean, but their histories were quite different. Buda, where the Royal Palace and where a number of other prominant sights are, is on the hilly north side of the Danube; Pest, the heart of the city, is on the flat south side of the Danube. Often people just refer to Buda or Pest depending which part of the city they're referring. The main train station and my hotel are located in Pest about a 45-minute walk to Buda. I wonder if someone decided to make the two cities one because the name has such a quixotic ring to it - imagine Pest the capital of Hungary?

The Danube at Night

I've been thinking about how hard it is to write accurate descriptions of what I'm seeing or experiencing. Often first impressions are wrong and, with time, they change. It's difficult to descibe without being subjective. How many times can one use the words, awsome, spectacular, beautiful, cheap, expensive, etc. What word should I choose to describe a walk along the Danube on a warm Saturday night? All relative depending on a point of view at a particular point in time. What you choose to describe is subjective too, why talk about the Royal Castle, when you could describe the haircut you got at a salon for $5.5 not much more than the price of the two-minute ride on the funicular to the Royal Castle. In the end, can you really capture what you saw or felt and is it the truth? I'm learning the task of a roving anthropologist is a difficult one.