London Calling 🇬🇧 (and Dublin too 🇮🇪)

So, I’ve made a lot of fantastic friends from the London area on my Flash Pack tours but had heard far more about the city than I’d actually experienced. In fact, I’d only been to London two times in my life and for a grand total of a week. This was about to change! I flew in and out of London with the gang going to Finland so bookended the trip with some time in the city, staying with friends I’d met on Flash Pack tours. I first flew into Heathrow which I’d been warned was many things…. namely a total zoo, always a clusterf*ck, and sorted British words meaning similar things. I expected the worst. I was pleasantly surprised, however, when there was not only no line at customs but instead a row of available immigration officers waiting to welcome me to to their country with British pleasantries…or so I thought. [Travel tip: If looking to expedite the passport control process at Heathrow, when asked what you do for a living back home do NOT casually answer, “nothing.” Also, probably avoid jotting a fictional London address on the entry card (5 Piccadilly Square sounded about right). Lastly, when asked how you know your friend you’re staying with, perhaps provide a smidge more detail than I did. Just answering “Vietnam” seemed to only lead to more questions, as if I’d implied we’d been in the trenches together.] Once the suddenly very inquisitive officer clarified a few key pieces of information, including how much money I had saved in my bank account for my travels (I thought he was joking with this question. He was not.), I was on my merry way. Yeeesh! Yet, despite the hold-up, it took me less than 30 min from landing to get through customs and claim my luggage! Look at what a zoo it was:I then embarked on my maiden solo voyage using London’s public transport system. I’d also been forewarned that this was complex to navigate and that Londoners were mostly “heads down” and wouldn’t go out of their way to be helpful or friendly. But my London opposite-world experience continued. I actually felt like people were much more helpful than people would be on the DC Metro…strangers carried my suitcase up stairs for me! At one point I was waiting for an elevator (aka lift) in the station along with several other suitcase laden travelers and a women with a stroller. In the States I’m quite sure that those who had been there first would have gotten on and the others would have to wait. But here, stroller lady got priority without question and then stroller lady worked with the other riders to arrange a Tetris puzzle that would allow all of us and our bags to fit. Teamwork with a Capitol T!

The other thing I’d heard over and over again from my British travel-mates was that London is apparently sooooo huge, that you never ever in a million years run into people you know in the city. On one of my Flash Pack tours a few people in the group discovered they lived in the same London neighborhood, just a few blocks from each other, and this was treated as a humongous and unprecedented coincidence. When I suggested that maybe now that they know each other they would run into other all the time (as happens in Teha’s world in DC) the response was “um…unlikely…but perhaps…that could possibly happen….” which is British for “no chance.”

I was in London for a night before the Finland trip and stayed with wonderful Rachel who was my assigned roommate during my Flash Pack trip to Vietnam and Cambodia. We are now good friends, despite not having been battle buddies in ‘Nam after all. In the morning she escorted me to the bus, as the first step in my journey to the airport. I lugged my suitcase up the few steps and was proud of myself for having my London transport card relatively handy to scan. As I did, I heard my name and looked up to see my friend Isobel sitting in the very first seat on the bus! I know Isobel from my Chile tour group and she seemed way more surprised to see me than I was to see her. Her level of shock could only be matched by Rachel’s. These Londoners are sticking with their story that “these things just don’t happen” but I’m no longer buying it! I came back to London after Finland and stayed with the handsome and mostly funny Rob for a week, while spending my days playing tourist and catching up with pals I’d met at various points and in various places over the past six months. It’s hard to believe I didn’t know anyone in the city before then! I kicked off my visit in true tourist style with a free walking tour with my new favorite free walking tour company, Sandemens (I’d also used them in Prague). My second tour with them did not disappoint- the guide knew a lot about a lot and shared it with wry British humor that seemed perfect for the occasion. My favorite anecdote he shared was outside Buckingham Palace, where he relayed he story of Michael Fagan- this dude puts that lame White House fence jumper to shame. In the early 80’s this guy not only hopped the fence but due to a series of randomly well-timed circumstances, made it to the Queen’s bedroom and actually sat at her bedside sat chatting with her for about ten minutes (I guess the cat is out of the bag that Phillip and her weren’t exactly spooning…or even in the same bedroom). Fagan seemed a little confused about where he was and asked the Queen if she could call room service to order him some cigarettes. Her butler staff did think this request odd… and that maybe security should check things out. According to the guide the Queen said it was the only time in her life she’d been talked to like a “real human being” by someone who had no idea who she was and she allegedly invited him to her 90th birthday party (I guess he was busy that night). During the subsequent legal proceedings it was also discovered that Fagan had not actually broken any laws by entering the palace, so some loopholes were closed up after the incident. It was a blustery London day and the tour ended at a pub, where I sat and chatted with a new friend from the tour over fish and chips- she’s from Brazil and her name is Alathea. This confusing during introductions when she said “I’m Alathea” (pronounced Ala-Teha) and I replied “I’m Teha” and she said “No…I’m Alathea” to which I responded “and I’m just Teha.” Soon after we sorted this out, two gents timidly approached our table and asked for a favor…they work for a market research company and were testing a new hard cider. They had the nerve to ask if they could give us each a free pint of cider and ask us a few questions on camera. AND, as if this weren’t enough of an imposition, they also wanted to PAY us ten pounds for the huge inconvenience. Um…YES and YES! Alateha commented with glee that these things just don’t happen to her. I admitted that these things seem to happen to me all the time. Here we are with our paychecks: So, while planning my day that morning I’d checked out a last minute theater ticket app and entered a raffle for a first-row ticket to see Kinky Boots for 20 British pounds (which is equivalent to $28). I checked the app at the designated time and saw that I had not won the first row raffle (and I usually pride myself on my raffle-winning skills) but I was offered a 7th row seat for the same price. I guess that would have to do! My seat and the show did not disappoint- both were amazing! And apparently my row was celebrity-central that night. I was chatting with a group of six women in my row before the show and noticed the two ladies sitting next to me staring and whispering. They later told me they couldn’t believe I’d met the band “Girls Aloud,” which is apparently a British Spice Girls-esque band. The group had apparently broken up so it was BIG NEWS that they were together at the show. Oh the drama! One of my seat mates exclaimed, “I can’t believe there are celebrities sitting next to us! This NEVER happens to me!” I refrained from commenting this time.

I continued my London exploration for the rest of the week, checking out some sites on my own and was lucky to also have several friends excited to show me their city! On Friday I met up with Bhavika (aka B) who I’d met in July on the Flash Pack Vespa tour in Spain and she took me to the Tate modern as well as other assorted sites, before we met up with two other fabulous females from the same trip, Emily and Sacha. The four of us went to a super-cool bar that is World War II themed. It’s underground (and actually hidden with a secret entrance) and decorated as a bunker. You wear a bad-ass uniform jacket while decoding various clues, selecting a series of smells, colors and tastes, and radioing in the selections…which end up being the components of individualized hand-crafted cocktails. They claim to never make the same one twice but who knows. Mine was delicious so I do hope they make it again! The next day I was excited to FINALLY meet the infamous owners of my favorite tour company, Flash Pack. I’d been in much contact with Radha and Lee while planning my trips and liked them both a lot despite having never met them in-person. We enjoyed a delicious lunch at the Palomar and chatted for over four hours…and we could have kept going. We are definitely kindred spirits and meeting them re-validated my tour company choice…not as if I needed it. I then met Rob at his cricket club where there was a big rugby game on TV, but I forgot to watch the game as I was too busy chatting with people. The next morning Rob had a soccer (aka football) game that I went to watch. It’s with guys (aka mates) he went to high school with and they still play against other former high school rivals! I was immaturely entertained hearing grown men on the field (aka pitch) saying things like “lovely shot mate!” The “British language” really never ceases to entertain me!

We then tubed on over to Emily’s beautiful home in Notting Hill (yes, think the adorable neighborhood with the adorable Hugh Grant) for her “Secret Sunday Lunch Club” which is a regular business venture she operates. Essentially she cooks delicious food and people come to her house to enjoy it. The kicker is that often she doesn’t know any of the people (nor do they know each other) and most attendees are just individuals who want to enjoy a “proper Sunday lunch” and potentially make new friends. It’s a popular concept in London apparently and a “brilliant” idea. Emily is an out of this world chef and the consummate hostess, so it’s not at all surprising that her lunch club has been so successful! I saw Emily and B again a few days later for a delectable “afternoon tea” at none other than the infamous Harrods. I knew the Brits were known for “tea time” but didn’t realize it was a thing that many restaurants offer in the afternoons. A very cool experience with two very cool ladies. I checked out the London museum on my last day in the city and was horrified to learn more about all the city has been through over the years…fires, plagues, wars etc. Talk about a resilient city! I have to say that my time in the city made me leave wanting more, which is exactly how I like to leave a place. I especially need to see St. Paul’s cathedral next time, as Tom Cruise had it occupied this trip for filming Mission Impossible 12 (or whatever number we’re on now).

My next destination was Dublin, where I visited the lovely Louise…my roommate from the Flash Pack tour of India & Nepal (you may notice a theme with my Flash Pack roommates). The night I got there we stayed up until 2am catching up and poor Louise had to work the next day! Meanwhile I did the Dublin tourist thing and checked out the Dublin museum, the Dublin castle, and the spectacular St. Patrick’s cathedral. I think there was a bit of a mis-communication with my St. Patty’s cathedral tour guide, thou, who was French-speaking and kept apologizing for her English. I thought she had said I could come back to the cathedral at 5:30pm to see the children’s choir perform.This sounded cool so I cruised back over following a tour of the not-too-shabby Dublin castle. As I walked into the cathedral at 5:30 on-the-dot, the woman at the entrance stopped me. I explained “Oh, I’m just here for the concert” to which she replied “This is a religious service.” At that point my deeply seeded Catholic guilt came out (odd since I’m actually not Catholic) and I feared if I turned away at that point I’d be struck by lightening. So…I sat through an entire mass. There was actually a choir, but it consisted of middle aged to old men- definitely no children. Whoops! It’s such a beautiful place that I definitely did not feel bad for myself. The next day Louise and I got sucked into some Winter Olympics viewing in the morning. As explanation, I’m minorly obsessed with the BBC’s coverage of the games as it’s SO different from how the Games are covered in the U.S. First of all, there are NO commercials and they actually show LIVE coverage, that includes showing athletes who are NOT from Team USA. What a novel idea! I will say they definitely focus on events where Team GB has any shot in hell for a medal, but that’s only a few events anyways. I learned that Ireland only has five athletes at the Winter Games and has never won a medal. Louise read me a headline from a local publication, about an Irish skier’s “success” in their event the previous day. I assumed that meant they had made history and medaled! Um…not exactly. Success is apparently defined as (and I quote) “finishing the run with no major issues” and placing in 56th place! Once again…perspective gained.

We tore ourselves away from the Olympics coverage to travel to Glendalough, which is a beautiful spot in the Irish countryside about an hour outside of Dublin, where we hiked up to a spectacular look-out. It was stunning and made me want to see more of the country!That night we went “out on the town” with Louisa’s fabulous friend, Fiona, and ended up at an authentic and infamous pub called O’Donahues, where we saw a “proper session” of folks jamming Irish music with an array of impressive instruments. It was pretty phenomenal and also cool to see the photos on the walls of the dozens of celebs worldwide who have been there to enjoy the music.

The next morning I promised Louise I’d be back soon (I hope she meant it when she said that was okay) and headed off to the airport. Next up…Myanmar! P.S. If you haven’t heard of Myanmar you aren’t the only one…think Burma

Freeeezing, Fabulous Finland 🇫🇮

As I sat on the plane taking off from Salzburg, I tried to convince myself that my shivering was a delayed reaction to the cold air….and that I was imagining the achy-ness that was starting to spread throughout my body. Despite it being a mid-day flight and having had plenty of rest the night before, I konked out and and slept the entire flight…the kind of sleep where I may or may not have been drooling. When we landed and I was still tired and noticed my throat was sore, I thought about how lucky I’d been to have not gotten sick yet during Teha’s Travels. And, also, how unlucky it was that this streak was apparently ending right as I headed to one of the the coldest places on the planet. Alas, to Finland I went! My travel companions were five new-ish friends, I’d meet on an amazing Flash pack tour of Morocco in September. As the story goes, one beautiful and sunny afternoon as we laid by the pool at the yoga-surf resort, a few of us discussed taking a short winter trip together. Someone suggested Finland…sure it might be a lil’ chilly in January but cold schmold! We could totally handle it. Another strawberry daiquiri, please! And, that was how that happened. So, several months later we all met up to board our flight to Ivalo, which is a remote place in Finland where the temperature was MINUS 25 degrees Celsius the day we arrived. I’m still working on how to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit exactly, but any way you dice it, negative 25 is FREEEZING. Maybe the cold would decimate the germs causing whatever sickness I had percolating? Such wishful thinking! Here’s Daisy, the ringleader and travel coordinator of our crew:The proprietor of our Ivalo accommodations, Henry, picked us up at the airport and drove effortlessly through the ice and snow covered roads in his sedan. SUV whhhaaattt??? We settled into our adorable little bungalow and bundled up for the 15 foot walk to the main building where we enjoyed the first of several home-cooked authentic Finnish meals. Yum!So, the big draw for this middle of nowhere spot in Finland, is that you have an increased chance of seeing the mythical northern lights. Henry and company provided the service of knocking on our door to alert us to any lights (up until 11pm) so we wouldn’t have to sit outside waiting for them while turning into Walt Disney’s corpse. I learned there is some debate about northern lights viewing as it’s impossible to predict when they can be seen. Some companies apparently rip-off tourists by taking them on expensive northern lights viewing treks that don’t actually increase their odds of seeing them. It’s pretty hit or miss as far as I (or anyone can tell). Having discussed northern lights viewing strategies with several strangers on the voyage there (including the Finnish flight attendants on the plane) I had decided that the best time to see them was after 11pm, when no one was watching. Like spotting Santa Claus! Yet when we heard a knock on our door at about 9:30pm- I threw on my cold weather gear in about ten seconds flat and ran outside. Opinions differed on what it was that we actually saw at that juncture…I saw a greenish cloud streaming across the sky, that looked even greener if you took a picture of it. It was kinda cool, as far as green clouds go, but not what I was expecting for THE LIGHTS. We went back inside, feeling like we’d seen them (if not with our own eyes, it definitely appears we did if you look at a picture) and returned to a rousing game of Cards Against Humanity. As I’d promised myself, I geared up again at around 11:30pm for another check, convinced I had cracked the code by waiting until after 11pm…but, alas, there was nothing to be seen. Not even Rudolph! The next morning at breakfast we heard from another group that they went outside at 1am and the lights were in FULL EFFECT, “dancing across the sky!” Darn it- if only I’d checked a few more times before going to sleep! Oh well, can’t win ‘em all I guess. And at least we had that green cloud! Unfortunately, I woke up the next morning feeling even more achy and chilled, with zero desire to get out of bed (zero was far warmer than the temperature outside, btw). Staying in bed, however, was not an option as far as I was concerned…it was snowmobiling day! With all the winter activities I’d enjoyed in my lifetime, snowmobiling was not one of them and I’d been dying to try it! I consulted Binay, the doctor in the group (and he’s actually a doctor!), and loaded up on over-the-counter meds that kicked in pretty quickly and at least made me forget I had a fever. We paired up on snowmobiles and got a tutorial from our guide, during which I was only half paying attention. The views around us were just so pretty and I was just SO excited! How to concentrate?!? My passenger, Danielle, and I boarded our vehicle and she asked if I knew what I was doing. Let’s hope so! I knew how to GO (most importantly) and also not to get too close to the snowmobile in front of us and to stay in the track created by the leader. No funny business, basically. I LOVED, LOVED, LOVED snowmobiling, and was in heaven as we cruised over the snow covered ice, passing a few adorable, remote lake-side houses. Throughout the three hour trip, the guide only had to stop twice to walk back to my snowmobile to issue me warnings. During the second warning he shook his finger at me, like a teacher scolding a student. I really couldn’t help it though! It was way more fun to cruise just a little bit to the side of the track, through the deeper, untouched snow and I didn’t think he would notice a few, small deviations…my bad. We stopped midway through the journey and disembarked our snowmobiles to warm by a fire deftly created by our guide, after he whittled tiny strips of birch off a branch (in the middle of a snow mound, as if creating a fire in the snow is like switching on a gas fireplace). As we trudged about 50 feet through the deep, fluffy snow to the fire area, I had the impulse to stop to make a snow angel and Daisy (our resident videographer, always looking for a good shot) asked if I had my camera handy. I handed it to her and then returned it to it’s holding place in my front pocket. Following the rest of the trudge (this snow was DEEP) we arrived at the fire. I reached for my phone to discover it was no longer in my pocket. Huge. Siiiighhhh. I knew my phone had to be somewhere along the 50 foot long path we’d created in the snow, so I diligently canvassed the area, scouring the WHITE snow, for my WHITE phone. And to make matters worse, the more I scoured the more new footprints I created, making it nearly impossible to tell where we had first walked. I didn’t say much during this search and rescue mission but knew that if I did not find my phone, it would be a royal pain in the *ss to get a new one (I knew this from a previous Teha’s Travels mishap when my phone had an unfortunate run-in with a defective dry bag while whitewater kayaking in Croatia…procuring a new one overseas was both a lengthy and expensive endeavor). My travel mates kept encouraging me to give up the seemingly futile search and join them around the fire before I froze to death (they didn’t say that last part but they later admitted thinking it) but I refused to give up. Don’t they look worried?The the way I thought about it, my phone HAD to be somewhere along that 50 foot stretch of snow and while the chances might be slim that I would actually find it- there was a ZERO percent chance I would find it if I didn’t keep looking. So keep looking I did! Probably a good 30 minutes later, just when I was mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that my phone was probably gone…EUREKA! Miracles do happen! Our guide seemed shocked. The other members of my group seemed extremely relieved, most likely that they wouldn’t have to be dealing with the potential aftermath of sick AND phone-less Teha. I don’t blame them in the least! [Note: All’s well that ends well, although I do have to admit that the toes on my left foot have not felt quite the same since that frigid phone-hunting expedition…just an odd tingly sensation at times. But what’s a few toes….at least I have my phone!] I was on a high (from both snowmobiling and the found phone) that lasted until we got off the snowmobiles. I think the British Tylenol had worn off by then too and I was authentically chilled to my bones, wanting nothing more than to be in bed. Which is where I went…..and slept for hours (bundled in a hat, four shirts, three layers of pants and four pairs of socks). All was well worth it for the feeling of whizzing over the ice on the snowmobile! Sadly I missed out on the group’s Ivalo fun that afternoon:That night we enjoyed a second Finnish meal, featuring none other than reindeer. I wasn’t sure about this but it actually tasted pretty good! I also enjoyed it in a soup the subsequent evening, where it had more of a smokey, bacony taste. The Finnish definitely have no qualms about eating Donner, Blitzen, and the gang. Same drill the next morning but on a different exciting winter adventure…dog sledding! I didn’t know what to expect on this excursion but once again it was incredible. It reminded me of that book “The Call of the Wild” by Jack London, that was pesky mandatory reading in high school. Danielle and I had our own sled (once again she was the passenger, I was the driver- roles we were both very happy with) and this time we had a whole fleet of energetic huskies that pulled us (and fast) through a beautiful winter wonderland-y forest. The sled driver wasn’t supposed to take videos but I couldn’t help it…at least I only had one warning this trip!

Our sledding adventure ended with tea and delicious salmon and potato soup around a fire. The next day we had a few hours to explore in the snow before heading off to Finland’s capital, Helsinki. I roamed around that morning and tried so hard to see a reindeer but no dice…just a lot of evidence that there were around (and likely hiding from my pink snow pants). These pants are actually my 92 year old grandmother’s back from her skiing days and she actually had a jacket to match! It takes a certain kind of person to rock pink ski pants like these ones and I can only hope to do them as much justice as Nan did!

We’d heard that Sundays were quiet in Helsinki and that it would be hard to find something to do. But I was starting to feel my fever subside and was excited to join the group to see what we could conjure up! We ended up at one of the few open estashments…Bar Base. I’m not sure what the Sunday night theme is there exactly but it was definitely locals night and was far from tame. We may not have understood much of the language but we had a blast! Funny headwear is known for breaking down language barriers.

The next morning we were up and at-em, following Binay who had seen a YouTube video on the top things to see and do in Helsinki. It seemed he recognized EVERYTHING we saw as the “#1 thing” from the video. But apparently an 18th century sea fortress called Suomenlinna was REALLY at the top of the list, so we took a ferry there (cruising through icebergs…like the titanic but, thankfully, more successfully). It was a FREEEEZING day in general and especially so on the blustery fortress island. Once again…hand warmers to the rescue! This fortress has some really cool history as it was originally constructed to protect against Russian expansionism and was created using a typical “star-shaped style of fortification” but adopted for a group of rocky islands. This construction methodology was apparently very successful as the sea fortress still stands in seemingly perfect condition and there are even about 800 year round residents. Back on the mainland we warmed up with lunch and speed-toured a few churches before ending up at a Boston bar (by accident, I swear!) where we played Finnish scrabble. There is a different ratio of consonants to vowels in the Finnish version of Scrabble and some letters are missing altogether. At one point Claire had 4 k’s in her letter bank! I have to say it was surreal sitting in Finland in a bar with Boston sports paraphernalia everywhere and with the Washington Capitals hockey game on TV! Before heading out on the town (aka back to Bar Base) for our final evening of the trip, we presented Daisy with a thank-you gift for organizing our adventures, which she totally rocked. Little did Bar Base know that it’s Twister night on Mondays! Daisy denies this was her doing but the rest of us are certain it was. Some final touring in the morning before heading to the airport to head back to London. There, we finally found the northern lights! The amazing Daisy already created a fantastic re-cap video of the trip, that you can view here.

As I boarded the plane to take me from Helsinki to London I got a message from a friend warning me it was the coldest week of the year in London, and it was only 3 degrees Celsius that day. I realized Finland had recalibrated my idea of what constitutes cold and happily settled into my seat, looking forward to the warm weather!

Austria, finally!

I’ll never forget, that one time… in 5th grade, when Ms. Harney gave us the assignment of choosing a country to research (using a card catalog and actual books!) and then creating a poster of our country to present to the class. I randomly chose Austria and after discovering the school library wasn’t exactly brimming with material on the tiny nation, I vividly remember Ms. Harney pulling me aside and saying it was “okay” to change my selection to a “bigger” county that would be “easier” to research. She had a note of disapproval in her voice and I got the message… Austria it was! I recall that it was not easy (lack of access to information is not a problem “kids these days” will ever experience) and I was very proud of my ‘A’ on the assignment. 🤓 It took just a few years since then to make my way to the country in person, but it was worth the wait! I met up with the handsome and mostly funny Rob in Vienna (as a refresher- he’s a Londoner I met on the India & Nepal tour) and we enjoyed exploring the city together. We stayed at the Hotel Beethoven, which seemed like the appropriate place to stay in Vienna. The hotel is adorable with each floor having a different theme. The hotel room had a random woman’s picture on the door and the one photograph inside the room was mysterious. I really wanted to know who was in the photograph and may have mentioned it to Rob just once or twice. More on this later… We started off strong by enjoying schnitzel at a little cafe at the outdoor market by our hotel, Nushmarkwt. We then headed up the Main Street by our hotel, which appeared to be a mostly typical shopping area with lots of high-end stores, except for a massive cathedral smack dab in the middle of it. It was our first glimpse into the grandeur of the city that we would see so much more of in the days to come. The next day we enjoyed a perfectly Viennese breakfast at Hotel Beethoven (think hearty dark bread, sausages, smoked fish, etc.) and embarked on a free walking tour. It happened to be pretty darn freezing that day and I may have thought Rob was over-preparing when he was putting on layers before the tour. I mean, I had survived below zero temps in New Hampshire just a few weeks ago… this was nothing! In hindsight, I think the big difference here is that in New Hampshire I spent most of my time indoors and by a roaring fire. Not outside, on a walking tour. Ok, back to Austria! First off, the country is so rich with history, it’s hard to know where to start (or where to turn when walking the streets). We quickly realized there was a lot more to see than the high end shopping street (Cathedral and all). The museum district is stunning and our guide informed us that later that evening much of it would be closed due to high security and protests because of a “ball” taking place that would be attended by members of the far right. Here’s the security preparations: We did not let that stop us from staying in the area that afternoon and checking out the “Sisi Museum.” Okay, if you haven’t heard of Sisi, don’t worry, you aren’t the first. Or second. (I can’t speak beyond Rob and I). It was a fascinating museum, though, featuring an iconic Austrian figure… Empress Elizabeth “Sisi”… who was thrust into marriage at age 15 with Emperor Franz Joseph and was apparently not aware of what she getting herself into with the whole situation. In many ways it seems she was ahead of her time, questioning the royal and wifely duties that those before her had seemingly embraced without question. She was a troubled soul throughout her life and spent most of her time trying NOT to be in the Hofsburg palace that we were touring- but on the days she was there, she had to spend FIVE HOURS sitting patiently while getting her insanely long hair done (not sure what one is doing to hair for that long without electricity…fanning it dry?) and she had a strict fitness and food regime that by all accounts she was over the top about. She even had her own set of rings in her little 19th century workout area…like the kind used in male gymnastics. I thought that was kinda bad-ass! After the museum, shocker of shockers, we stumbled upon some anti-fascist protests. There was a lot of security but it all seemed peaceful and really did enhance the whole Vienna experience! The next day we toured the Schönbrunner palace, which was the main palace inhabited by Sisi and Franz Joseph as well as their predecessors. It has something like 1,700 rooms but I think we only saw 50. What a spot!It’s hard to imagine actually living there, especially with the MANY chandeliers lit by candlelight. It must have been quite the staff to keep that operation running. So, I admit I’d been feeling just a little bit bad for Franz J, as he had been madly in love with Sisi, who after having their children didn’t seem to want to give him the time of day. They even officially had separate bedrooms. THEN, in an exhibit at the palace there was a reference to Franz’s “long time mistress”…just a passing comment. Ah-ha! I give Rob a lot to credit for noticing the name of the aforementioned mistress was familiar, and was, in fact, the name on the door of our room! Double Ah-ha! And upon further investigation it was evident that the black and white photograph on our wall was of Franz and mistress lady! I was so glad to have solved the mystery and actually thought it was kinda cool we were in the mistress room. Way cooler than the Sigmund Freud room across the hall!

We had an authentic Austrian meal during our last night in Vienna, complete with more Weiner schnitzel and the largest wine decanter I’ve ever seen. The next day we covered any remaining parts of the city on foot…although the buildings and statues are so incredible, it was hard to know which ones we’d already seen! Rob had to head back to London that night (work schmerk) and I stayed for one more night and enjoyed the little classical music concert in the hotel. The next morning I was off to check out one more Austrian city…Salzburg. It was an easy train ride and well worth it to see the quaint and Sound-of-Music laden city. I took it all in by roaming around for two full days. A few hours after I arrived, Rob messaged me “do you hear it?” I was confused at first and inquired as to what he meant. “The music!” he replied. Duh! There is actually a lot of music everywhere in Salzburg, mostly in the form of church bells from the several cathedrals. I spent much of my time in Salzburg in the hills, exploring the areas up by the unbelievable castle that overlooks the city. I found many walking trails and a few hidden-gem sunset viewing spots up there. I also did a self-guided Sound of Music walking tour but I have to admit it wasn’t quite the same without Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer. I also have to admit that nothing I saw looked all that familiar to the movie. (I declined to take the official SOM bus tour as I had such a short time there that I wanted to see it on foot as much as possible. It’s such a beautiful city that I stand by my decision.) My Austria adventure was punctuated by finally trying apple strudel…purchased from an adorable old lady at her cart, as I hauled my luggage to the bus stop headed to the airport. I reflected on my Austria experience later that day, as I nibbled on the strudel while gazing at a stunning view of the Alps from the plane window. And, I couldn’t help thinking about how grateful I am to Ms Harney…for teaching me to stretch my limits, look more broadly at the world, and, especially, not to be limited by the card catalog.