Vienna, Budapest and Romania

04.11.2009

Photo gallery for Austria http://www.travellerspoint.com/photos/gallery/users/hazelnutty/countries/Austria/

Vienna, 4 Nov

The arrogant Germans and ditsy Americans (WORST group of dorm buddies I've had!!) didn't stop marching around until about 1am, so I had a bit of a late start.

It wasn't so cold today- no snow; this time it was rain instead. After putting my pack in a locker at Sudbahnhoff station, I headed to the Museum Quartier, to visit the Leopold Museum. The variety of exhibitions in there was incredible. Again, fantastic English explanations for each room made all the difference. One exhibition was focusing on the post-Impressionism styles- a great follow-up for my visit to the Albertine yesterday. Another, the Leopold exhibition itself, was a selection of works from various artists of very wide-ranging contemporary styles. The last exhibition was of another painter who I didn't enjoy so much due to the overabundance of naked women in his works. Too many nude people!!

Wandering back past the Albertine, I had a look in the Haus der Musik, which explored everything from the nature of sound, how our ears work and how our minds interpret the sounds, through to the history of Classical masters, and even a hands on section where people can record their own music. It was interesting, but sometimes they forgot to explain things in English, which made some sections like one big picture story book.

With about half an hour to spare before I had to head to the station, I took the time to wander along the pedestrian streets and people-watch, and visit the amazing St Stephen's cathedral once more. I managed to get the timing just right but I ended up with 2 tiny Austrian kiddies- didn't make for a very serene visit.

I caught the 15:58 train with the hop that I'd get to see a bit of countryside before the sun went down. It was gloomy for about half an hour, then pitch black, so that idea didn't really work too well. It's 7:30; my train arrived at 8pm. Hello Prague...

Vienna, 3 Nov

My arrival into Vienna was another one of those glorious, astonishingly straightforward tasks. Nothing went wrong. Where's the catch? I don't know! I think it's the right hostel!? Well, the one I have landed at is great. Everyone is very respectful of that precious ritual called 'sleep'. Some hostels forget what the beds are for. After a lovely chat to mum and dad, and then nanna and gramps, I pulled on a singlet, thermal top, cardigan, jumper and raincoat, my gloves and hat, and braved the Viennese snow.

Landing in the centre of town, I wandered around the Imperial Palace until I couldn't feel my nose anymore, then ducked into the Spanish Riding School. Yay. A snuffly woman came over to me and gave me her ticket- she had just learned that she is allergic to horses. I would die!

I watched two sets of Lippizanner stallions being worked, along with a few hundred other curious spectators. I'd hate to be a snob, but I actually think the Spanish Riding School in Jerez was better.

The riders in Jerez were carefully selected, and after being accepted, they trained horses alongside their masters, while undertaking a seriously challenging training schedule themselves. They were expected to make the horse canter in a circle in a large arena with their hands behind their head, among other incredible demonstrations of absolute balance and control.

The riders here rode with their hands. The held onto the reins, making the horse 'broken', rather than being truly rounded, and used the bit as a tool for punishing the horse- they were visibly tense and thus not going to perform at their best.

In Jerez, riders and horses came and went as they pleased, depending on how much or little time the horse needed, whereas here in Vienna, horses were worked in sets, having to enter and leave in a uniform procession. Hilary says 'nooo' to fixed training times.

Also, the Spanish school had introduced Arab lines into their stud in recent years, producing longer-legged, more steady-headed and agile stock. I think the Austrian school was trying to stick with the heritage lines, which is okay, but in comparison, the Viennese Lippizanners were more stocky and thus could not perform the expressive movements that the taller, lighter horses of Jerez were achieving so effortlessly. That's just my opinion. Ask an expert.

Back out in the sleety snow, a man selling concert tickets took me aside. I would have ignored him but he looked pretty hilarious in his beefeater-esque jacket. Ten minutes later, I walked away with a ticker to an orchestra/ballet/opera performance that night, at a reduced price because I had started with the excuse of 'No, I'm too poor'. Good.

Walking west through the city, I spotted the Stephansdom Cathedral. It's difficult NOT to see it, really. The cathedral stretches up to the sky with such narrow steeples and high walls and macabrely grey stone- I think we're nearing the heart of old German territory, perhaps. Inside was even more impressive. Intricately carved statues decorated ever column, and candles lit up the stone that was greyer than grey. But sometimes grey is beautiful, even just to provide perspective.

Death can be beautiful, too, as my visit to the Kaisergruft, the Imperial Burial Vault, showed me. Beneath a surprisingly plain church, what must have been nearly ever Austrian monarch lay to rest, each in a intricately decorated true bronze tomb. Everybody from was down there; those who died before their first birthday, through to those who lived to 91. Some had bronze skulls with crowns at each corner of the coffin; some a skull and bones; some had a statue of the deceased depicted as sleeping on top, or were just covered in a silky, brassy sheet.

After wandering along streets selling everything from lavish chocolates, to boots and coats, I hit the ring road, with its 3 avenues of golden trees, walking all the way to the Museum Quartier. After studying each ticket deal in great depth, deciding upon one, losing my wallet, and finding it again, I walked up to the counter to be told that the main one I had wanted to visit, the Leopold museum, is closed on Tuesdays! Ha ha! Back into the snow and puddles. My tracksuit pants have seen better days.

If I can't go to the Leopold museum, then the Albertina it is! I'm so glad I went. The gallery ticket includes entry into the Hapsburg State rooms, a stunning set of lounge rooms with Greek statues, exquisite painting, chandeliers and decadent, silky curtains, as well as an Impressionist exhibition, among a couple of other mad contemporary collections. The Impressionist exhibition was one of the best I have seen. Arranged in chronological order, it had fantastic in-depth explanations of each turn in the Impressionist movement, neo-Impressionism, Pointism and beyond. It displayed everything from the sources of paint colours in different eras to brush types, and even the kinds of easels each artist used when 'plein air', or 'open-air' painting (as opposed to the traditional, step-by-step, process in the studio) became 'the way'. I enjoyed it a lot. Art is the best.

Except, perhaps, for music? At 19:45, I arrived at the Kursalon Hubner for my musical treat. I was expecting a full orchestra and proper theatre, but the 10-piece group in the long chandelier-decked room did quite a fine job nonetheless. They primarily placed pieces by Strauss and Mozart, and I am inspired to go home and listen to classical music far more often. The dancers (especially the male) had very bad hands, but the opera singers belted it out flawlessly and were both great entertainers. Oh, the music is still ringing in my ears.

Budapest, Hungary, Monday 2 Nov

Photo gallery for Hungary http://www.travellerspoint.com/photos/gallery/users/hazelnutty/countries/Hungary/

My night train from Brasov to Budapest was 20 minutes late arriving, (which I hear is better than normal) so my hands and nose and cheeks were icy cold. I scored an empty seat beside my own, and after a couple of hours of experimentation (e.g. lying on side in an L shape, with legs raised on opposite seats, resting head on armrest and curled up, etc) and finally found the perfect position. Imagine sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Only the wall was my floor. So my head poked out into the aisle, and my legs were crossed up the wall. Many hours of quality sleep were earned from my ingenuity.

The sun rose red out of the cloudy gloom, illuminating the frost that bit at every surface of the outside world. We were rolling across open fields, now barren- either ploughed for winter, or left with the rotting maize standing where it grew. There was an occasional patch of scrub left, or a long-ago abandoned farmhouse with no garden or windows. Later on, we began passing towns and villages, where every house seemed to possess a long, narrow stretch of land in line with the house itself, where animals were kept, or, for the most part, people grew vegetables or grapes, or kept animals. This was quite a change from Romania, where I didn't see a single food garden anywhere.

The train was late picking me up, but that was nothing compared to the arrival time- 3 hours behind schedule! I was beginning to think that I had somehow missed Budapest!

Money converted, luggage 'left', and map in hand, I hit the metro system, with no fear. And with a chocolate swirly pastry in hand. Irresistible. I popped out in the centre of Budapest, and didn't know which distant spire or steeple to head for first. St Stephen's Basilica was first on the list, a grand stone cathedral with two towers. If one is good, two must be better.

Passing the prettiest hotel I have ever seen, the Four Seasons Hotel, which dominated the river promenade, I crossed the impressive lion-guarded Chain Bridge to the far side of the city. I wandered beside the river to a beautiful old church that fails to get a mention on my map.

Back towards the bridge, I climbed the hill that everyone else took the funicular up, for a glorious view over the city. I stumbled upon the Buda Castle at the top, and explored its stunning vine-covered terraces and watchtower, gawking that something so beautiful is still intact today.

Down the hill, I found two identical boarded-up churches, another pretty church, and the park where homeless people hang out and like to yell and by-passers. Run. I crossed another bridge, which seemed to have every national flag in the entire world raised, and some blokes with a powered hose who were washing the footpath... they're keen.

The main tourist drag did indeed lure me in, but looked much like every other tourist drag in Europe, curiously. I popped out the other end at Budapest's Central Market, a massive old building bustling with locals doing their shopping, and tourists pretending to be locals. It could have been any other market in Europe, except for a few certain things; garlic and dried chilli were more prevalent than bread; the only fish was canned fish, which there was a lot of; every part of the animal was sold. I would list all the parts to you but I didn't examine them all too carefully. There were kidneys, and a lot of other 'bits' that aren't sold in Safeway.

I had hoped to go to the National History Museum, but November 1&2 seem to be total duds for museums. It was getting quite late in the afternoon by this stage, but I wanted to see if the Hungarian Agricultural Museum, 'Magyar Mezogazdasagi Muzeum' would be open. No such luck. But I inadvertently discovered the tourist icon of Budapest, the Hero's Square, and a lovely park as a result. After a few happy snaps of the adorable Vajdahunyad Castle, I ran back to the metro for my train to Vienna...

Romania

Photo gallery for Romania http://www.travellerspoint.com/photos/gallery/users/hazelnutty/countries/Romania/

Bucharest

Bucharest wasn't terribly exciting- probably partly because the tourist info office was closed so I was improvising. I found a sweet old church and was completely enchanted by the streets of Bucharest's 'Toorak'. Stunning! Autumn is in full swing and everything is covered in golden leaves. Ah.

On the train from Sofia (which was heading to Moscow) the provodniks were rad. 2 blokes in long coats with a fantastic sense of humour.

Brasov

It started bucketing down in Bucharest so I headed back to the station, and took the train to Brasov- had two minutes to spare- awesome timing. I made notes in my little notebook about what I saw. At first it was just sort of barren, open steppe, with the odd cluster of tiny, simple houses or green, thick forest. But as we went on, there were mountains, and those green birch forests became increasingly gold and then orange, until we were actually in the most beautiful place on earth. I was nearly sobbing!

The train chugged along the side of a narrow gorge-like valley, where orange leaves lay deep on every surface except the steepest parts of cliff-face. Everything was a flaming orange and gold and red- above us and every surface. Then, behind the near mountains, we started to see higher peaks, with pine forest dusted with snow! The contrast of the burning autumnal colours with the icy green and white ridges behind... my gosh.

Sleep deprivation catching up with me, I had a little nap, obviously feeling quite safe among my 5 Romanian cabin friends, who were peacefully chattering and obviously quite awe-inspired by the scenery outside, too.

I made friends with two older women, who obviously had no English, but they fed me little chocolate waffle chunks, and then one of them read my horoscope to me out of the newspaper! I nodded sincerely as though I had understood and we both laughed and laughed.

BRASOV ('Brashowv')! My god! It is possibly the most beautiful city I have seen in my life. A true alpine town, the buildings are all very chunky and old looking, with narrow streets and old churches, all surrounded by snow-dusted flaming mountains that I can see from where I sit now.

The staff at the hostel are great, lovely place to hide from the cold tonight. As well as explaining the layout of Brasov to me in great depth, with a map, they have recommended a couple of castles in nearby towns, Sinaia in particular- have to visit that one- it looks incredible.

Man I love this place. I could spend forever here! Going to Bran Castle (Dracula's birthplace) tomorrow with 3 other girls, then I will climb the mountain that overlooks Brasov before I leave for Budapest at night.

Halloween tomorrow. People are making costumes- one girl is using a
white table cloth to dress up as garlic. Ha ha ha.

Bran Castle, Brasov, Saturday 31 Oct

Halloween. I don't get it, but the Americans are excited. I guess that rubbed off on me a bit. Marseille is dressing up to be a garlic. Pretty alluring.

Marseille, Loui, Liz and I (2 Americans, 2 Australians, all solo female travellers) decided to go to Bran Castle, the birthplace of the infamous Dracula. With five layers on, plus hat and gloves, we marched out to the bus stop, bracing ourselves for a bloody death sometime that day.

From Brasov, we took the 4 lei ($1.50) hour-long bus ride to the town, passing through tiny, snow-covered villages, horses and herds of sheep in the valley between two orange and white mountain ranges. Stepping off the bus, Bran Castle watched down on us from above- what a sight it is! Leaping over snow-piles and puddles, we climbed up, where so many pilgrims must have been before us.

When one imagines Dracula's Castle, images of vast, gothic buildings with staircases that stretch up towards the limitless ceiling spring to mind. In reality, Bran Castle was built by little people, for little people, so most of the doorways didn't allow for my head or chest. The claustrophobic people of the world would find the tiny corridors terrifying, but I thought it was all just very cosy, really.

Peles Castle, Sunday 1 Nov

I was awoken at 3am by a bunch of 'bloody Australians' returning to my dorm from their Halloween celebrations. No complaints; it's always nice to hear an Australian accent. The Brazilians weren't so impressed.

It was snowing in the morning. Only enough to leave a light dusting on the tiled roofs and pine trees across the road. Very pretty. I munched on the hostel's extravagant breakfast of toast and jam while smelly ghouls and vampires stumbled out of the dorms, their gashes, dark eyes and deathly white complexions not yet removed.

At noon, I joined the bunch of seven Brazilian, English and Australian kids on a trip to Peles Castle, a scenic hour's drive away to Sinaia. The snow didn't let up at any point, and despite the air being completely still, the orange coloured leaves, too, continued to fill the cold air with life. Winter or autumn? What is this?

One of the English boys nearly killed the tour guide when she made us wait outside for another 5 minutes- can your cheeks fall off from frostbite?

The palace interior was like nothing I have ever seen before. Peterhof (St Petersburg) uses gold and paintings to stun; this place used subtle beauty, and the signs of true artistic skill and dedication to steal hearts. It was like the perfect representation of what a wonderland castle would look like. The Armoury was filled with full sets of armour, swords and guns, and the Romanian proverb on the ceiling 'nullus sinea rex/dominicus' (OR SOMETHING) meaning 'Nothing without God'. Each room was filled with stunning woodwork, and vast silk carpets, of which 'one can only make two in an entire lifetime'. In the library, there was a certain bookcase that could be pushed to lead to a secret passageway.

There were statues representing the Four Seasons, and a room, which, as our tour guide explained, had statues of all of the elements; 'water, wind, earth, fire, and arse.' I don't know what 'arse' was meant to mean. But we Aussies thought it was a fair call. Bums are good.

After our incredible adventure into the home of Romania's old monarchs, we were kicked out into the snow again, and shuffled back up to our van. I have noticed that there are a lot of Romanian school groups visiting these historical sites- it must instil a lot of national pride in them to recognise such beautiful places as their own.