more Vienna, "Oh, no lunch for me, thanks," NOT . . . & loads of photos

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. 

Coach taking a photo of me
taking a photo of him, well
really the museum.

Me:  THIS IS WHERE WE'LL HAVE LUNCH. 

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. 

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. 

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.  

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. 

Hapsburg's summer estate

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. 

A bride and groom were
posing of the front steps. 

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.

Ed left Sunday morning to catch a train back to Budapest. Coach and I explored the city a bit before our train to Prague that afternoon. We went into the visitor center, which had a very cool display and timeline. Then we went to the State Room at the Austrian National Library. 

It was beautiful, tiny, and filled with art. I took photos to show our resident artist, Mini. Some of the stories were interesting. Like a honeymoon couple brought an artist along to draw the native wildlife. Note:  I don't remember where they went, or who they were, but it was a very long time ago and very interesting. 

I think I ordered
 what normal people
would count as
two entries. Oh well. 

Guess who these butterflies
made me think of?

I'm just a sponge, absorbing all the details.                                                                             Coach and I finished up at the museum/wandering around and we stopped in a café for lunch. The plan was to fill up on food, so that I wasn't starving on the train. This was our first foray without Ed as our guide. I ate a huge breakfast meal and ordered a fruit cup. I was stuffed. 

Can you believe this is a painting
 and not a photograph?

We were trying to decide what time to leave for the train and we became confused. I'd kept my wristwatch on Chicago time, so I knew what time it was for my offspring. My phone never updated, because it wasn't on WIFI. We thought the time was noon. Curly's phone said noon.                                                                                                                                                The wall clock said eleven. Coach was trying to figure out if maybe the time had changed from Budapest to Vienna and we hadn't noticed. Were we really that reliant on Ed? 

Oh, look. Another church.

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. 

After that huge meal, I waddled along as we headed back to Pigeon Palace to grab our luggage and head to the train.

I'm trying to cope with how much I want
to fight the formatting on this here blog
 right about now, so I'm making this
 photo really large. I win, Format.