|Ceiling of the State Hall |
of the National Library .
My traveling companions knew better than to argue with my need to eat high end, and the rest of the trip was mostly top notch food . . . for dinner.
Lunch? Well, we were on our way to the Hapsburgs' summer mansion/estate thing after our walking tour on Saturday and we stopped in a cute area to walk around and eat.
We looked at dozens of menus, but were hoping to just get something to eat - not have a sit down meal. We walked into a place with pulled pork posted on the specials list in the window.
My men-folk followed me.
The waiter when I tried to order the pulled pork: Um, that was yesterday's lunch specials.
I fell to the floor, and pounded my fists on the ground like a good ole fashioned tantrum. OK, not really. But I wanted to.
I released the men from my grip, and watched as they skittered across the street to order a feast to be eaten in the sunshine. In front of me.
It was some kind of beef concoction, open faced, melted cheese. The works. They were in heaven. I was in pout-ville with a level of hangri-ness that is hard to convey. I'd already eaten all the snacks in my bag.
Oops, I had to wipe the happiness
off of their faces. Kidding.
Look beyond their amazing food. See the busy street,
tons of shops and restaurants. It was a great
little area. Too bad we couldn't all enjoy it.
Ready made sandwich places had no 'just meat or a slice of cheese' without the bread partnership. It was a while before I could speak. Most of the Hapsburg tour I sucked on mints to try to kid myself into thinking I wasn't famished.
Anyway, the estate was mind blowing. Enormous - and just for the summer. I could only imagine the havoc my offspring would have leveled on a place of that size. Dinner that night, another fab deal. The waiter catered to my every whim.
|All was right in the world|
when I am fed proper.
After dinner Friday night, we went to a bar. Then Ed texted a guy who is a friend of a friend who is studying in Vienna. They decided to meet up at a bar. Coach and I went to bed.
The next morning, Ed told us of his adventure. The kid he was gonna meet realized at the last minute that he'd forgotten to hand in a paper and had to cancel. Ed said he was already at the bar, so he stayed for a drink. A guy started talking to him, and when he left, the bar tender started talking to him. He said it ended up being a great night.
Hapsburg's summer estate
I tried to look approachable at bars when it was just Coach and I after Ed left, but middle aged people like us apparently don't look like all that interesting. Ed ends up talking to people in different cities in bars or wherever, all.the.time.
|Mama monkey painting.|
|Guess who these butterflies |
made me think of?
|Can you believe this is a painting|
and not a photograph?
Finally we asked the waiter what the local time was. It was noon. We pointed to the clock on the wall, and he got a chair and changed it. I was a little frightened for us for the rest of our trip.
Oh, look. Another church.
After that huge meal, I waddled along as we headed back to Pigeon Palace to grab our luggage and head to the train.