europe: vienna

Saturday, August 21, 1999

I’m currently on a train heading toward Salzburg, Austria from Vienna. Let’s recap what’s been happening.

Vienna was a rather nice city. We arrived two days ago and spent two nights in an overpriced hotel (pension in German).

Once again, we parted our ways after we woke up, which is all for the best. Just sitting near them now and listening to their inane chatter grates on nerves. I wonder if I’m just oversensitive or they’re as annoying as I think they are.

Back to more important things. Vienna had a lot of sites and museums to look at. I walked around yesterday and “took in” the sites. I’m getting rather tired of looking at old buildings and statues and looking through hot and poorly ventilated museums and palaces—even thought Vienna had some of the nicest museums.

Vienna is known for its concerts and opera. I attempted to get a seat for the opera last night, but the only seats (and I use that term loosely because it was standing room) did not afford a view of the stage. Isn’t that silly? Why would you design a theatre that has seats that can’t see the stage? The tour guide at the opera house claimed that when they rebuilt the theater after WWII they kept the original shape because it was the best acoustical layout. Strange indeed.

Overall, I did not like Vienna as much as other countries. Some of this dislike might have been caused by the rainy weather and a slight depression that arose as I was wandering the wet streets of Vienna.

The sun is shining today, so hopefully it’ll be better.

Oh yeah, I forgot to tell about how we got Vienna. On our last day in Budapest, Greg and Rosie, as I’ve explained before, left me in the morning ad told me—or so I vividly remember—to meet back in front of the hostel at 7pm. It turns out that what Greg was trying to convey was that the train was leaving at 7pm. In his haste to tell me so he wouldn’t feel guilty, he told me incorrectly what time to meet. He now claims adamantly that he told me to meet at 5:30pm and even has the audacity to insinuate that I had purposely come late—in the Greg, I don’t really believe this because I don’t want to be confrontational but this is what I think anyway. In retrospect, I would have appreciated the situation more had he been right and I had purposely done it.

I’ve wasted enough paper complaining and explaining this situation. Suffice to say, I doubt I can remain friends with Greg after this trip. Anyone who can’t trust me and always has to believe he’s right—in that Uncle Serge way—is not worth remaining friends with. This hopefully will be the last time I write about them in length; I think my journal deserves better.