the last schlafwagen to veniceby michelle
The only thing nicer than going to Venice... is getting proposed to an hour before you leave for Venice. One would think that Venice is where you would get proposed to which makes getting proposed to before you go most certainly a surprise. And it makes the already highly anticipated trip to Venice even more highly anticipated. What was once just a ho-hum run-of-the-mill trip to Venice, Italy is now an ENGAGEMENTMOON to be celebrated at every waking moment. And celebrated we did.
So we decided to take a sleeper train to Venice or as they say in those parts, a Schlafwagen. The nice thing about taking the train is there is no rigamarole to go through before you get to the train including pretty much zero security. I could have had bombs in my underwear, shoes... I could have shown up five minutes before the train left and had one of those cartoon round bombs with the long fuse under each arm and been like, hey what's up, and they probably wouldn't have even looked at me twice.
So we reserved our very own two-person Schlafwagenzimmer (sleeper car room). I think it's the fanciest you can go on these things. The next step down is what is called a couchette which basically is a room with six couches, three on each side like bunk beds, that you share with random people. We get two nice bunkbeds with a little table and a couch and even a little sink. Mind you, it's all very cramped and tiny but they do maximize the space.
Who's that engaged lady in the Schlafwagen?
If you want to see more, go to our Videos page to get a grand tour of our glamorous quarters!
Along with the fancy room, we got a nice big breakfast in the morning. This translates to us each getting to choose six things from a list of Viennese breakfast items which can best be described as a deconstructed sandwich. The bread traditionally included with one's Frühstück (I'm larnin' you something!) is basically a Kaiser roll or as they say in Vienna, Semmel. The other items are basically jam, butter, cold cuts, cheese slices, pate, etc. And of course, we also got some juice and coffee. It is Wiener Frühstück, isn't it?
Riding into Venice on the train is beautiful. For those of you who are unawares, Venice is an island and you arrive just as it's light over the water onto the island and into the city right to the train station.
That, my friends, is the island of Venice.
After we unloaded and detrained, we made our way to the water taxi aka Vaporetto stop. I was fully debriefed by my Venetian friend Andrea which Vaporetto to take to our hotel as one will make many stops (1) whilst the other (2) is very swift about taking you through the Grand Canal. However, even a native's help will not prepare you for navigating the "streets" of Venice. I had a map. It seemed we were very close to where we needed to be. I wish Venice were laid out like an Ikea. You walk in the entrance and maybe you have to walk through the whole store but you will eventually pass by everything before you get to the end. In Venice, you basically wander and wander and wander perhaps employing some natural instinct and hopefully stumble across your destination. That is essentially what happened to us. We knew we were close. It just took us a while to find the right rape alleys to follow. We somehow found our hotel. Unfortunately, however, it was still a bit early, so we were not rewarded with a room or even so much as a high five for finding the place. We dropped off our bags and headed off into the frozen city. Oh, did I mention? Venice was super duper cold. It was so cold, I didn't even think of getting an Italian gelato. That's cold.
Let me pedal back a week or so to make mention that in my German class, a Lithuanian classmate warned me of the flooded streets in Venice. I scoffed at her. She said, wear galoshes! I doublescoffed. Well, here I found myself in Venice, Italy and a lot of the streets were indeed flooded. I scoffed in error! I doublescoffed in a double error! Now, the kind city puts out platforms for us greenhorns to walk on when this situation arises. However, there were a lot of showoffs in their knee-high water boots splashing around from here to there and back again. I could wear galoshes! I can splash around! You're not analyzing the complex genetics data of the Arabidopsis thaliana! That's what Alex does. I like to throw it around when I can.
Some people put on their galoshes and took on the water. We opted for the platforms.
Honestly, though, I don't know why I have been wasting your time. I went to Venice. I will now give you what you want... FOOD PORN!
At Osteria Al Portego eating a plate of awesome fried seafood. Heaven.
Taking a break after some ridiculously awesome pumpkin flan at La Zucca in Venice.
Our meals at Osteria Al Promessi Sposi. That's a whole lot of squid ink.
At Osteria Al Portego. Up top we have pappardelle with pork sausage and porcini mushrooms and on the bottom we have gnocchi with scallops and zucchini and saffron. Murder me it was so good.
Ciao!
flugzeuge, zuge und autosby michelle
I wasn't really banking on doing any stand-up whilst in Vienna. However, an opportunity presented itself to do a USO show in Stuttgart, Germany. That opportunity came by way of Bengt Washburn, a comedian I had never met, though who was vouched for by my esteemed comedy colleague Moshe Kasher. So I knew he wasn't an axe murder. Or, at least he wasn't a hacky axe murderer. Hacky as in bad comedian, not as in hacking with his murderin' axe. No pun intended. And, yes, I am saying I'd rather be axe murdered by somebody who has a good sense of humor or at least somebody that has a bad sense of humor who knows it and doesn't try. The last thing I want before I die is some arrogant boy murderer who feels the need to get overly physical with his technique while making references to things we all remember. Or maybe that's exactly what I want...
Me: Could you please just commence with your murdering? (Hold my hair up and turn my head to the side to expose my bare neck.)
Hacky Axe Murderer: Let me axe you something... (waves his axe around and then paces for about 10 seconds) You remember Nintendo?
Me: ...
Hacky Axe Murderer: You had to blow in those damn cartridges to get them to work. YOU HAD TO BLOW IN THEM! (He drops axe to mime blowing into a Nintendo cartridge.)
Me: (Zork-style: Pick up axe. Kill Hacky Axe Murderer with axe.)
But I digress, let's get back to our adventure. We got into Stuttgart the day of the show and the never-met-before wonderful Bengt Washburn picked us up at the airport and let us stay at his house for the night. He even took us on a bit of sightseeing in the picturesque German town of Tübingen. Proof below:
In Tübingen, Germany with young Ian, son of Bengt
So the USO show was at 7pm preceded by a lovely buffet dinner at 6pm. This should have been the red-flag warning for me. Young, comedy-loving, entertainment-starved servicepeople don't need to be lured in by buffets. Older people do. To them it isn't COMEDY SHOW in capital letters and buffet in teeny-tiny letters. It's BUFFET BUFFET BUFFET (oh, there's a comedy show too?). And do you know what older people do? They bring kids. Sure, that's a great idea. I mentioned something to one of the organizers who came back a bit later and told me she talked to all the parents and told them that this is not necessarily a show for kids and the comics will not be censoring themselves. Then I explained that my problem wasn't whether or not the parents were cool with it, but rather it wasn't my desire to tell any of my jokes with all their innuendo and colorful language in front of children. Also, it might actually make other people in the audience uncomfortable with the kids there too. That was all I could do though. I was introduced and brought on stage. And as I grab the mic, two kids both younger than 7 take seats in the front row. You have to be kidding me, Uncle Sam. I can't remember exactly what I said as I addressed those children but it was a thinly-veiled announcement to the parents that it was extremely inappropriate for their children to be in attendance and shit was gonna get uncomfortable. It worked. Those kids left after my first joke and the other kids left not long thereafter. Mission accomplished! The show ended up being great. The crowd was fantastic. I even got a fancy USO coin for doing the show. And, if you were wondering, it is not legal tender. I found that out the hard way.
Telling jokes to folks at the USO on the Panzer Kaserne Base in Stuttgart, Germany.
The next morning, superhost Bengt Washburn brought us to the train station. We were going to travel to Strasbourg, France. This was our first European train experience. How exciting! We even managed to find our correct track and get on the correct train in the correct car. Did I mention it was a speed train? It was awesome. Well, awesome except for the fact that there were no murders on the train. How am I suppose to solve any train murder mysteries if there are no murders? I thought that's what you did on trains. Next time I'll just have to get the ball rolling and do the murder myself. And a future you are welcome to you.
We had made reservations at a Best Western quaint little mom-and-pop bed and breakfast in the middle of town. We checked in and realized that we got a room with two twin beds instead of a queen. And the Best Western bed and breakfast was sold out for the weekend so we could not switch. Merde! So we get up to our room and we realize that the twin beds are pushed together in the middle of the room with night stands on either side making it essentially a queen bed with a scary dangerous chasm in the middle. This is exactly how the bedroom in our Vienna apartment is set up. It is maddening. It's like a 50s television bedroom up in Europe.
One huge thing we learned in France is... that we do not speak French. I think somehow our brains thought with all of our success learning basic German, we would be able to understand and speak any language. Oh, not true, mon ami. We were just so used to people speaking to us in other languages and then responding to them in German. We were not used to this Frenchspeak. We would listen so hard trying to understand what they said until we realized we didn't have any idea what they said. We would just get so flustered trying to respond which resulted in a string of words from all the languages we knew. "Dankethankyougraciasankyouthay!" And then we would run away. So embarrassing.
This post has gone on long enough. You get the idea. And as a special treat, here is a video of dogs playing in a Strasbourg street. Enjoy.
please do cry for me, friendsby michelle
Yesterday, it was snowing here. Today, it is raining Katzen und Hunden. Basically, it's miserable outside. Now, here I am having to sit down and write about my trip to Hawaii last week. Sob story, I know. Oh, I can hear the sarcasm in your voices. You know what? It's all relative, people. My life is my life. My trials and tribulations are still trials and tribulations. My "it is raining Katzen und Hunden in my idyllic neighborhood in Vienna" is your "there are fires in the hills and I can't breathe because of all the ash in the air." My "I can't figure out where to buy travel-size contact lens solution in this city" is your "it took me 4.5 hours to drive from Hollywood to Santa Monica on the 10 because people were checking out an accident at the Robertson exit." My "they put too much jam in my crepes" is your "my unemployment just ran out and I had to start buying generic macaroni and cheese." Like, I said. It is all relative.
Now, let's talk about MY TRIP TO GLORIOUS HAWAII:
First off, we got to the airport and nobody bought me a lei.
In the Honolulu Airport. Do I look jetlagged? Cause I'm pretending I'm not.
We got to the hotel and still nobody bought me a lei.
In our hotel lobby. Hmmm, I don't seem to be wearing a lei. Step it up, Alex!
We got up to our room and there was still no lei!!
Our hotel room is nice!
Let me just say that adjusting to a 12-hour time difference sucks. It's as bad as you can get. Your mind and body are completely effed. Down is up, up is down, red is green, 2+2=3, Michael Jackson is still alive... You know what I'm saying. First night, I lay down for a nap at 4:30pm watching Judge Judy (Hi, Grandpa!) while Alex is checking in at his conference (that's why we were there in the first place). So he comes back around 5:30pm and asks me if I am able to go anywhere and I mumble something akin to, "There is no way in hell's bells I'm moving one inch." Flash forward to me waking up at 3:30 in the a.m. READY TO GO. I'd say every day that scenario repeated itself improved by an hour and a half or so. It was an accomplishment when I finally was able to stay awake until 9:30pm and that was probably three days after we got there.
So that Sunday was my birthday. I turned 33. I ain't ashamed to say it. Although, that was Jesus's age when he was MURDERED. Well, you'll be happy to know I managed to survive the whole day without coming to the same end. Or did I? SCARY LAUGH. Anyhow, we decided to put on our tourist pants and go sightseeing. We had reserved a rental car and when we went to go pick it up, I dropped that it was my birthday. Bam, UPGRADE. It was that easy. I wish I could bottle up this charm and sell it to you, but I cannot. We got a Mustang! This is a car that before having ridden in it, I would have never ever considered buying and now after having had use of it for a day I would... never ever consider buying it. I really don't know how to put this eloquently. The insides is ugly. And this particular Mustang had all sorts of dents and scratches on the outside of it too. I will not hold that against all Mustangs but it did sully the excitement of driving around a "sports car" for a day.
The first place on our itinerary was the Diamond Head Crater. It was beautiful. You can see pictures of it and everything else for that matter in the "Action Photos" section. So I knew going into this situation that a visit to this crater usually necessitates a 2.5 hour hike up to the top to bask in breathtaking visages of the island of Oahu. I also knew that my companion loves a good hike almost as much as he loves yours truly. However, I did not factor in that when we got there it would be skin-melting hot. It was Texas hot . Also, I forgot that I really, really hate hiking. And we were supposed to hike up and up and up closer to the SUN? I kept my reservations inside for about the first 100 feet deciding how appropriate it was to put a cabash on this foolish venture. We could die! Then I remembered it was my birthday. And nobody should suffer on their birthday. As a matter of fact, nobody should have to do anything that they even slightly don't want to do on their birthday. So I announced my discontent... and we turned back. Poor Alex. He was silently heartbroken. His sad face wasn't silent though. He was screamingly facebroken. That's a saying, right?
After that, our next stop was the Dole Plantation. Now, we had heard that this was a must-see on a trip around the island. I really think Alex and I had built it up in our minds as some sort of tropical Wonka's Chocolate Factory. That it was not. We were cornered by a souvenir lady before we even got in the door. She had us participate in a "raffle" where we won the ability to get 50% off on her shitty product that was probably marked up 90% to begin with. We juked her and then went inside where we had to evade two or three more of her ilk. And that was probably the last interesting that happened. This main building was just a weird store for Dole-labeled products. There was no pineapple wallpaper. There was no pineapple-juice river. The souvenir ladies could have at least limped on canes towards us then turned into a somersault before shoving their wares in our faces. I would have paid 0% off for that, souvenir lady robot army! You're doing it all wrong.
I don't get it. So it's like as if the pineapple is the Mickey Mouse for Dole Plantation's Disneyland? I ain't buying it.
Well, we did manage to salvage the trip though because the one great unfuckupable thing they have at the Dole Plantation is the world's largest maze! And even though it was drizzling, we were not leaving without getting in that maze. It was three miles of fun, right? Trapping yourself in a maze while it was drizzling is a great idea, right? Right? It started out fun. And honestly, it ended fun too. The drizzle turned into actual rain. The whole maze was overrun with huge snailman creatures. It was muddy. You couldn't tell the passages for the maze from the holes in the hedges. It was a losing venture. We made it to one of the six requisite "stamp your card" checkpoints and decided to consult the map to get the hell out of there. I have no idea how Alex figured out where we were on the labyrinth of the map and got us out so lickety-split either. It was impressive. Anyhow, here is a video clip of a bit of our aMAZEing time. You can see more video clips on our "Videos (Not Porn)" section too, by the by.
So that was the long of the short of our trip. I loved Hawaii. The murderous jetlag was worth it. I would do it again. Now, I'm back in freezing cold Vienna. It feels even colder having to think about my time in Hawaii. Oh, well. Guess I'll try and console myself while I'm in Strasbourg, France this weekend.
See ya, suckers!
when in doubt, just say mozart lived thereby michelle
First, I just want to say a little something about living your life in another country amongst another language. Living in Vienna seems much like how it would be if you were recovering from a massive stroke. Stay with me, here. You're trapped inside your head. You want to tell the waiter that you would like tap water. You want to tell the woman she just dropped something on the sidewalk. You want to tell a hilarious joke whose punchline hinges on impeccable comic timing. You can't. You can stammer some words you know that seem related. You can make sounds and gestures. You can't say what you want though. You never get your tap water. The woman is afraid of you and runs away. And your attempt at a joke with the 20 German words you know fails miserably and probably insulted its recipient. When I started this paragraph, I really thought that I had this stroke metaphor worked out. It kind of got away from me. I still think it holds. Don't you agree? One blink for yes, two for no.
So what this post is really about is my historical city walk on Tuesday with the OLP (Old Lady Posse). Here is a photo of our guide in front of the historic Stephansdom. Let me just say something about this lady. She had the fanciest accent I have ever heard. I have no idea how old she is or how much money she makes or if that is her real hair color. I just know that she works it. I would let her tour guide me around a Burger King bathroom. Oh, that sounded dirtier than I meant it to. Okay, I meant it to sound dirty. The thing is it might sound a tad dirty to some and really funny and dirty to Sharon. Ya heard, Sharon?
So the Stephansdom is probably one of the most famous places in Vienna. And I could probably tell you what I remember about it but I think it's best if you consult your bff wiki. I really did learn a lot of things from my walk. However, I have to be honest, later that evening, when I went to caption all the photos I took, I barely remembered anything. I just remembered things are really old (really, really, REALLY OLD). And if something looks like an apartment, Mozart probably lived there. I think that's a good rule to follow when sightseeing in Vienna. Here's a few more pictures to illustrate this point....
I can't remember what this is. I do know it's old. And I think it's a church.
I can't remember why this is important. Maybe Mozart lived here? Yeah, let's say that.
This is what you would be looking at if you lived in 740.
Mozart lived here?
me and my new old lady posseby michelle
Before I delve into the title's topic, I want to share with you another interesting Viennese factoid. When you order a beer here, the waiter/bartender/barista asks, "big or small?" or as the non-English speaking waiter at the pizza place we went to tonight asked, "grande oder piccolo?" I always say big (or grande) because I am not a chump.
Okay, back to the topic at hand. So before I got here in Vienna, I did some internet researching. I found this American Women's Association of Vienna. I saw that they produced some helpful literature on getting adjusted here as well as hosted cultural outings and such. So I thought that it might be a fun thing to join. Now, let me just point out, when I say "fun", I don't necessarily mean party party beer waterslide parks. When I say "fun", I mean kitschy good times coffee let's talk about how young I am. So I went to the get-together coffee last Wednesday morning. It was great. I met a bunch of fun old ladies, I had some coffee und a pastry and I got to talk in English for a couple of hours. And on Friday, I took the trolley into the city center and went to their offices, dues in hand. They are very glad to have me. While in the office, I was seemingly hoodwinked into joining the historical city walk tour that they needed another participant for so as not to be cancelled. I was not really hoodwinked. It was only seemingly that to the ladies. I didn't have anything to do so me committing last-minute to a historical city walk was more of a favor to me than it was to them. So tomorrow morning it's me and those ladies catting about town. A glass of Sturm at every landmark, perhaps? I'll bring the camera and see if I can catch some of the mayhem on wax.
the @whatupvienna twitter
the @biloon twitter
the photos
the weather
-
Mostly Cloudy
32°F
-
Fri
37/30
-
Sat
42/30
-
Sun
42/33
the comments
- MomBiloon on action photos
- sphobia on take your prague and shove it
- katy on take your prague and shove it
- AP on take your prague and shove it
- Stephanie on he liked it so he went and put a ring on it (among other things)
the most commented
the links
- american women's society of vienna
- bjarni & dorte machen wien
- deutschakademie
- english cinema in vienna
- english theatre in vienna
- germanwings
- livemocha
- official website of comedian michelle biloon
- the @drplatt twitter
- the daily flailure
- the gregor mendel institute
- vienna expats forum
the calendar
| M | T | W | T | F | S | S |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| « Feb | ||||||
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |
| 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |
| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 |
| 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 |
| 29 | 30 | 31 | ||||