Vienna, Austria

Schonnbrunn

Because of our longer-than-expected Ljubljana visit, we arrived in Vienna quite late in the evening.  Adam dropped us off at our hotel and went to find the Otto Wagner parking garage, our hotel's slightly subsidized parking. 

In the morning, Adam was off to meet with his moot court team and my mission was to introduce the kids to my old haunting grounds.  My secondary mission was to impress all my kids with my German language skills, sprinkled here and there with Austrian dialect.  This was very easy to do because they don't speak any German and can't actually hear how pathetic my German has become these past 15 years.  In the end, I'm sure I got us into more trouble trying to speak German to show off than if I had just spoke English in the first place.

On the Riesenrad

We bought an unlimited public transportation ticket and headed for the Innenstadt, via the Rathaus, Parliament, and the Museums Quarter on the Ringstrasse.  We went to St. Stephan's cathedral and climbed the 343 or 434 steps of the south tower for some amazing views.  If you ask the kids what it was like climbing the tower, they'll tell you it felt like 15 steps.  So living here in Rijeka on a huge hill had some payoff.  With all the horses and carriages parked outside the cathedral, Lucy really wanted to ride in the fiacre until I told her how terribly hard the cobblestones are on the horse's hoofs.   

Riesenrad

Breaktime

Wienerschnitzel (turkey) Love

At the Prater

We changed Serbian dinars at the Sacher hotel (because they don't want anything to do with that currency in Croatia), but unfortunately, never timed our walk right on the Karntnerstrasse to get torte.  Fond though I am of Vienna, I wasn't sentimental enough to get Austrian torte for the children at 9AM.  We walked down the Graben and sat at the Pestsaule (the plague column), and then headed for the Hofburg.  They saw the silver chamber, the Sissi Museum (which fascinated the girls), and then we toured several of the Imperial Apartments where the Kaiser lived during the winter.  We got on the subway and went to the Prater, stopping for pizza on the way, but no one would try my tuna pizza, which I would eat regularly as a student (although back then it was square, thick, and had corn on it).  We rode the 19th century Riesenrad (a ferris wheel that goes around one time), built for one of Emperor Franz Josef's jubilees, and then walked around the amusement park.  We went on the modern ferris wheel, because that was the best compromise between Lucy (who wanted to go on a really fast roller coaster) and Jonah (who gets sick on fast rides), with only one attending adult.

Around 4:00, with blisters on the bottom of my feet, we met Adam back at the hotel for a short break.  All of us then went to St, Stephan's Cathedral to meet with the moot court team, and we went with them on the subway to the outskirts of town where the competition results were to be announced.  Unfortunately, team Rijeka didn't advance and that was a huge disappointment for them and for Adam.  The silver lining for me was that Adam got to spend more time with us in the subsequent days, but we both would have preferred that Rijeka advanced.

Since the kids were starving to death, we had to get dinner.  I led us to a famous wienerschnitzel restaurant on the Burgstrasse, recommended in my guidebook.  It was tiny and totally unequipped to seat five people at one table, but we squeezed in and after a beer, we hardly noticed we had no elbow room.  The schnitzel was all it was hyped up to be, and by the time we left, Jonah was one of wienerschnitzel's biggest fans, begging us to tell him when he could have it again.

Lunchtime

Schonnbrunn Labrynth

Gloriette Cafe, Schonnbrunn

Schonnbrunn Park (Gloriette in background)

The next day was Schonnbrunn, where we spent a fabulous half day.  The kids each got a little handheld audio guide and it made them feel like they had a toy, yet the toy was educational.  Jonah learned all about the Pragmatic Sanction and Silesia.  We must have gone through 40 rooms of the palace before the novelty of the audio guides started to wane.   After we toured the inside, we walked up to the Gloriette behind the palace and the kid had an ice cream parfait, Adam had a torte, and I had a beer.  We then went to the labyrinth/maze and the kids were entertained by the maze trails for quite some time.  After lunch of sausage (and I had kasekrainer, cheese-injected into deeply toasted sausage, which was also a nostalgic food for me), Adam took the kids to the Schatzkammer (the Treasury) in the Hofburg to look at jewels and crowns.  We went back to the hotel for a short break, then took the 38 tram to Grinzing for dinner at a heuriger.  Although this particular one was recommended by our hotel, the service was awful.  I drank two incredibly refreshing weiss gespritzers (this is half seltzer water, half non-aged white wine) which I used to drink a lot of -- and I decided that that drink is going to replace diet Coke as my new post-gardening summer beverage.  We took the tram back to the hotel and fell into bed.

Electric boat on the Danube

Danube

Venus of Willendorf, Natural History Museum

Schubert Geburtshaus

My old apartment building

Antique lift in our hotel (Pension Baronesse)

Passing time on the tram

Our last full day in Vienna started out with a walk to Harmoniegasse, in the 9th district, where I used to live.  I hardly recognized the building, it had been so long.  I did register the fact that the Best Western next door was new.  From there, we walked to the Schuberthaus and managed to see Schubert's birthplace despite the annoying museum employee following our every move (we were the only ones there).  We took a tram to the Natural History Museum, saw the 25,000 year old Venus of Willendorf, and then went on an electric boat in the the Old Danube.  After the boat ride, we walked to a restaurant along the riverbank (actually, lakebank) and I continued to get reacquainted with the refreshing weisse gespritzers.  Then we went to our only art museum, the Seccession, and ate dinner in Judenplatz (Jewish square), where a new Holocaust memorial has been erected since I lived there.

We squeezed a lot into three days, and came home exhausted.  For me, it was exciting to revisit a place that was once so familiar and to introduce the kids to something new.  It might have been better if I had a babysitter for several hours a day so I could see the things that weren't kid-friendly, but on the other hand, I really got to see what I most wanted to see, and eat what I most wanted to eat, and drink what I most wanted to drink... so it all worked out really well.  

We sLOVEnia!

Ljubljana (stock photo)

This week, Adam had to go to Vienna, Austria for the Rijeka law school's moot court competition.  Since I lived there as a student in my early 20s, there was no belaboring the question of whether we would all accompany him or not.  But this blog is not going to be about Vienna, rather, it's about the way there and the way home, because Slovenia lies between Austria and Croatia.  After conscientiously buying our Slovenian vignette before we even knew if we would be on a highway that required it, we stopped in the capital of Slovenia.  We were going to get lunch there, but ended up spending the entire afternoon walking around, eating, and going to the castle.  On our way home, rather then hike a bit of the Wienerwald, we drove to Bled in northwest Slovenia, not too far off course.  Despite our lingering anger at the Slovenian vignette administrators, who were out to get us in February, we all were a little bit taken with Slovenia.  Or as their T-shirts say:
I sLOVEnia.

Ljubljana is the City of Dragons. On the way to the old city, we crossed a gorgeous bridge festooned with all sorts of dragons, so all the tourist tchotchkes about dragons made sense to us.  After our appetizer of a $12 pint of raspberries from the Ljubljana market, we ate al fresco in the old town where the waiters had to dress in traditional costumes and clearly resented it.  Jonah tried the "hunter's lunch":  wild boar, stag, and deer with a cherry sauce.  We walked around the old town and then took a funicular up to the castle.  The views were fantastic.  Unfortunately, my camera was out of battery so I have no pictures of this leg of our trip.

Island in the haze to the left,  + Adam

About to ride bikes

View from our restaurant

Panorama restaurant

On the way back from Vienna, we decided to follow up on the recommendation of Adam's colleague Vesna and go to Lake Bled.  This is a glacier lake surrounded by hills, forests, snow-covered Julian Alps in the background, a castle, and in the middle of the lake, there is a tiny island with a picturesque little church on it.  There are sidewalks around the entire lake for hiking or biking.  After our lunch on an outdoor patio looking out at the lake and the mountains in the distance, we separated.   Georgie was too little for renting her own bike, and too big to be on the back of an adult bike, so we got gelato and explored the area on foot.  Jonah, Lucy and Adam rented bikes, and travelled around the entire lake.  After they returned, we went to a cafe and everyone tried the famous Bled creamcakes (this after the Hello Kitty gelato).  These creamcakes, by the way, don't do much for me, but they seem to be a favorite in Hungary/Croatia/Slovenia/Austria and everyone else in my family is a fan.  Bled was absolutely gorgeous, and although my camera had full battery capacity, the pictures don't do the town justice at all.  Not surprisingly, it's a major tourist attraction.  Georgie and I picked up a few groceries in a small market while we were waiting for the bike riders, and I heard more American English than Slovenian.  To be fair to Bled, I just have to tack on a stock photo that does better at showing how beautiful the area is.

Zagreb

Egg hunt

We carpooled to Zagreb with our friend Iva on Saturday morning, so the kids could attend an Easter Egg Hunt at the ambassador's residence.  They were very excited for the bouncy house, the face painting, the sack races, the egg hunt, and especially to get to play with some American children.  Unfortunately, it was rainy and quite cold the entire morning.  I made the kids dress up a notch from their normal attire, and Jonah complained bitterly, but when we got there, it was clear from the ambassador's hooded sweatshirt that this was not a churchy kind of egg hunt.  I should have worn my bluejeans (which, by the way, were brilliantly rescued from their courtyard purgatory by my upstairs neighbor, so the torment is over).

Trg Bana Josipa Jelacica (Zagreb's main square)

We took a taxi from the leafy northern part of town back to the main square and warmed up with hot chocolate at the very fancy and jam-packed Gradska Kavana (City Cafe).  We had been warned to stay away from the main square because the day before, in the International War Crimes Tribunal at the Hague, two Croatian war generals were convicted of atrocities against Serbs during a 1995 ethnic cleansing campaign.  The protestors were out in full force.  They're raging mad at the EU and the Croatian

Old town (Sabor around the corner)

government because their government agreed to cooperate with the trial so they could move forward with their EU application.  All the roads and alleys leading up to old town, where the government buildings are located, were occupied by police officers with riot helmets, so we felt that the Croatian government was taking the anger of the protestors quite seriously.

Most every museum was closed after 1PM on Saturday, so we decided to just walk around a bit. We passed a sign on a building commemorating a synagogue that is now a parking lot.   We took a funicular up to the old town and saw the Croatian Sapor (the Croatian Parliament), which looks strikingly modest after seeing the Budapest version a couple weeks ago.   And then, at a statue of St. George and the slayed dragon in the old town, we completely LOST the entire three bags of Easter hunt goodies which were supposed to entertain the kids on the 2 1/2 hour bus ride home.  The girls didn't mind a bit but Jonah...  There was a very serious gelato shop.  Jonah cheered up a little when he got to have a Kinder Chocolate gelato.

We were on the 4:00 bus back (everyone slept), and then we went out to eat at our favorite Rijeka pizzeria, Pizzeria Bracere, which has a nautical theme and a wooden boat hanging from the rafters.  In the back, while looking at a painting on the wall, Georgie said "that's our building!"  Sure enough, it was our very own Casa Nave.

St George statue (where the Jewish easter baskets got left behind)

Looking up the funicular

Football at the Ambassador's residence

Jewish easter baskets

Hunting for eggs

Coloring station

Our Casa Nave!

Guest Blogger: Adam on his Daily Run

Rijeka street welcomes joggers

Rijeka, at least the Center or “Centrum” as the Croats say, is not great for runners.  The guide books tell us that Rijeka retained its Liburnian (i.e., pre-Roman ) layout, never acquiring an orderly grid like so many “castrum.”   History aside, Rijeka is built on a series of steep hills.

Mussolini loved it

Despite the geographic challenge, I have found a route that works for me.   First, I jog to the top of the hill we live on to Kozala Cemetery.  Its votive chapel, the design for which Mussolini himself is recorded to have admired, is a fixture of the Rijeka skyline.   While Kozala tells City’s history in stone, it feels remarkably lived in due the Croatian fondness for caring for graves and decorating them with pictures of the deceased, flowers, candles, and even chocolate bars. I start running in the old sections, which are primarily Italian and include a Jewish section.  The names speak of Fiume (Rijeka’s name before WW II) of the 19h Century and its vanished Austro-Hungarian multiculturalism of Croats, Italians, Jew, Germans, and Hungarians.  

Old Fiume

The graves have names like “Sigismondo von Lipschitz” or “Mustapha Albanucci.”  I run past the older, 19^th century mausoleums, with their lavish carvings and decorations, to the newer, post-WW II sections, build into a cliff-side, with austere, stacked marble mausoleums bearing only Croatian names. 

After Kozala, I jog down the hill, passing through hideous 1970s Communist-era high rises to late 19th and early 20th century lanes and steps which could have come out of any Italian mountain town.  

Charming picture, omitting Communist-era apartment blocks

Rječina River

I then pass over to the next hill, Trsat, cavalierly crossing, the Rječina river, which once served as a border between fascist Italy and the Croatian fascist puppet state. I often wonder, as I pass, the significance this river had to Jews escaping the Ustasi to the relatively friendlier Italian jurisdiction (at least before capitulation in 1944).

Who kneeds this?

I then jog up Trsat via the “Holy Stairs.”  These stairs are part of pilgrimage from the old church  downtown up to the Church on top of Trsat.  In August, the devout traverse this route on their knees.  I find jogging hard enough—and have yet to make it up the hill without stopping. 

I do not go to the top. I stop here:

Why take the stairs?

A Rijekan legend holds that the man who built the stairs called upon Satan to aid in its completion.  Satan agreed, provided that the stairs lead to the bar, which is precisely to where the sidewalk to the left leads.  But, the tricky Croatian built a final flight of stairs (to the right) that goes right up to the Church—saving his soul and at the same time completing the pilgrimage route.    At the very least it offers a tremendous view.

Sunset over Kvarner Bay

Well, this blog entry is getting a bit long.  I jog down the hill, head to the green market (which will get its own entry), and then jog up the 3km pier.  It offers a view of the City.   You can make out the narrow spire to the left (Kozala) and the hill with the Church to the right (Trsat).

Bad idea:  Stalinist apartment blocks on hilltop

Croatian Census

Census poster

Late last week, a Croatian census worker knocked on our door.  I had been forewarned by my always-helpful landlord that the 10-year census was happening and I might hear from someone, in which case I was supposed to give the census worker our landlord's cell phone number.  But something must have been prearranged, because the guy who knocked on my door spoke decent English and seemed to know that our family was not native Croat.  I told him I had to pick up my daughters from gymnastics in 10 minutes, and he said it shouldn't take that long.  It took 45 minutes.  

Except for the stack of forms in his arms, there was nothing like a badge to identify him as a legitimate census taker.  But then again, in a country where crime is rare, the need for such identification is probably unnecessary.  We sat down at the dining room table and he pulled out a two-sided form, about the size of a paper placemat.  There were the standard questions, like birthdate, religion, marital status, income, country of birth, primary language, education completed (which is the only time my MBA ever feels useful), but there were odd questions too, like do we use computers, and if so, what programs.  Does our apartment have heat, if so, is it gas heat?  He also made note of our arrival in and anticipated departure from Croatia.  The whole time, my census worker is sweating all over the form, because in Croatia, people seem to wear winter clothes until the end of May.  For example, today I saw a woman wearing a knee-length down coat and it was 73 degrees.  My census guy was wearing a long sleeved, hooded fleece sweatshirt, and to get to our apartment requires a fair amount of exercise.

Long after I sent Jonah to pick up the girls, he finished his questions for me and started packing away the form.  I thought we were done.  But that was just the first of five handwritten forms, because each member of the family had a dedicated form.  So I went through each of the forms with him, and of course, it went faster each time.

I complemented his handwriting and my census worker told me that all applicants for the job have to pass a handwriting test.  I told him that in the U.S., the census forms are mailed to all households, filled out, and mailed back, and the U.S. census workers only have to go to the houses where the forms weren't returned.  He told me that they do it that newfangled way in Slovenia, but in Croatia, it's all done by hand.

We finally finished all the forms, and he left.  But by chance, I ran into him in the hallway the next day as we were walking out the door, and he told me he forgot to ask me a question.  The question was about air conditioning, and whether our apartment has it.  I told him I didn't think so, but I made a mental note, remembering the sweat dripping off his face, that I really ought to find out for sure before summer really kicks into gear.

After all that, I don't think we'll be included in the official count.  The Republic of Croatia Bureau of Statistics website says that:

the total population shall include:

- persons who have been resident in the Republic of Croatia in the moment of Census at the place of their usual residence continually no less than 12 months.

Oh well!

The Torment

Look way way down and there's the torment

At home, if the wind blows an article of clothing off my clothesline, I can bend down and pick it up.  But the clothesline here is five stories high.  We don't have a clothes dryer (I understand that very very few Croatians do), so the clothesline gets used almost every day.  Between the bora winds and my unfamiliarity with high-altitude clothes drying, things fall.

When that happens, we can either go through the basement catacombs to get to the tiny enclosed outdoor area, or when something has gotten stuck say, two stories up, we can yell up at a neighbor to pluck it off and let it fall down to the ground so we can retrieve it (this is what happened to a pair of Jonah's soccer pants -- they were dangling from an area we could not reach for about two months before we noticed someone in a nearby window, and with sign language and pigeon Croatian, asked him to free the black sweatpants).

Zoomed in

But last week, my favorite pair of bluejeans -- my only pair -- fell.  Yes, they're about a size 4 or 6 in case you were trying to read the label.  They fell into the "courtyard" of another building.  They are not dangling near someone's window.  There is a 10 foot high cement wall separating our courtyards.  I do not know anyone who lives in that building who could go to the ground floor and toss them over the cement wall.  In fact, because of all the funky corners and lack of any identifying building traits (which are on the fronts of buildings, but not the backs), I couldn't even tell you which property they are on.

So it appears that they are lost forever, and every time I hang clothes on the line, I see my jeans just lying there with the yellow clothespins still attached.  It is a torment.

Debrecen Spring Break

Pirate restaurant, Debrecen

We left Budapest for the eastern Eastern Central Europe leg of our spring break.  Debrecen is the home of our friends Zoltan and Anita, and their two kids Zsofi and Peti, and it's in the very flat Carpathian Basin portion of eastern Hungary, not far at all from Romania.  It's the second largest city in Hungary.  We met Anita and Zoltan last year when they were in East Lansing with a Fulbright.

Fountain in the main square

We found our hotel right away and had only a little bit of time before we needed to find the fountain in the main square, our meeting point.  Even though our hotel person didn't speak any English and there were no city maps, we found the fountain fairly easily, and we found our friends who gave us a tour of the downtown area.  We went to dinner  at a restaurant that actually had a children's menu, and with it's pirate theme, it was a hit with the kids too.

Debrecen park

A much-needed haircut

The next day we did a little shopping in the morning, had a mid-morning coffee break, and got to see the market, complete with whole pickled cabbage.  Jonah was scheduled or a haircut because Anita's salon was right next to our hotel, and she knew an English-speaking haircutter there.  Since Jonah is so sensitive about too short haircuts, we thought it might be good to be able to explain that he didn't want too much taken off.  The haircut was PERFECT, but Jonah still thought it was too short.

We met Zoltan at Zsofi's elementary school and the kids all got to visit her classroom.  Georgie then attended an English language session with Zsofi, which she loved, while the rest of us played at a very well-stocked playground.  After Georgie and Zsfoi rejoined us, we all went to the zoo, which was right next to the park.  We dodged rain for a little while while walking around, which the kids didn't mind at all, but by the time we left, the sun was out.  By car, we followed Zoltan to their house about 10 minutes from Debrecen and enjoyed a fantastic meal, complete with grilled hamburgers for Jonah and Hungarian specialties for the rest of us.  The kids got to play with their Wii, they caught about 100 of the chubbiest snails you've ever seen, they got to play with toys that weren't purchased for their portability, and we all got to try Hungarian specialties.  Unfortunately for us, Hungary has a zero tolerance law, and you really aren't supposed to drink, even with dinner, if you plan to drive.  Because of this law, I limited my intake of homemade plum brandy to one shot, and we made it back to the hotel without needing to take a breathalyzer.

Hortobagy

After looking at a map to plan out our last day in Hungary, we decided that Anita's plan was the best.  Her plan was to go to Hungary's first national park called Hortobagy (also the name of the village), situated on a steppe (puszta).  Hortobagy is a UNESCO world heritage site, about 40 minutes from Debrecen, and the entrance fee would include a horse-drawn carriage ride during which the traditional Hungarian cowboys would show us their skills.  You just can't argue with a plan that includes horses, the Hungarian puszta, and cowboys, so at 9AM, after a mad scramble for an ATM to pay our cash-only hotel bill, we left for Hortobagy.

By 10AM, we were on a horse-drawn carriage in the middle of the flattest, emptiest country you've ever seen.  Even telephone and electricity lines are buried.  In the distance, you could see barns that housed native Hungarian species of black horses (the Nonius) which were the first horses not reserved for the military or the rich, but for the middle-class, and a special breed of sheep with straight, twisted horns.  The storks were apparently on their way back from Africa, and we did see storks later that day, but the area is a haven for birds.  Many roofs in the Hortobagy area are thatch, which is really fascinating to see up close.  It gives you an instant rural and medieval vibe.  But they are also practical, since trees don't grow in the alkaline soil, but thatch material does.  Some of the thatched rooflines came almost completely down to the ground to minimize the need for timber.  They all had lightning rods.

In the middle of the carriage ride, we were given a horse "show" by the Hungarian cowboys.  One of them went in a circle around our carriage at top speed, while standing on the backs of two horses.  They had the horses perform tricks like sitting (apparently, this is quite a natural position for a horse), and then the horses would play dead while the cowboys simultaneously snapped their whips above their heads.  It was as loud as a gunshot, but the horses didn't flinch.  The horses needed this skill so they could play dead and wouldn't be agitated by gunshots when the cowboys were dealing with robbers.  After the show, we all got to ride the horses, and for the kids, this was certainly the highlight of our entire Hungarian adventure.

The area is a bit like the Old Chrisholm Trail, in that the cattle were driven through the plains (although at a much slower pace than American cattle were driven so the cattle wouldn't lose as much weight).  Adam is convinced the cattle moved slower because they stopped for coffee along the way.  The cowboys did stop every 10-12 kilometers, a day's drive, at inns/restaurants that were built to host the cowboys. Ultimately, these cattle landed on dinner plates in Italy, Germany, Austria, Turkey, and many other places.  The Doge of Venice himself travelled to Debrecen to ensure Venice's supply of beef.  We all learned quite a bit about this region thanks to our excellent translator, Zoltan.  Before heading home, we had a great lunch at one of these old inns on the cattle route.  It was the fourth time I had goulash soup in five days, and I would have it again today if I could!  

Many thanks to Zoltan and Anita for making the second leg of our spring break so memorable.  And if I ever have to start a kid birthday party planning business in Hungary, I would design Hungarian cowboy birthday parties.