Beer, Sausage, and Springsteen
My humble attempt at a travel memoir
by David Ibanez It was merely half a summer. I flip through a leather photo album, and with each passing page I understand that soon the gaps of time taken between pictures may eventually become gaps in my memory, to be archived somewhere in the depths of my mind and possibly never accessed again. All I can offer myself and any noble readers is just a few of the more singular, prevalent memories I have, and I hope that others may share similar experiences or get something out of my narratives.
Of most relevance to you, my Reader, is that during this monologue you will hopefully see how easy it is to get around, even without knowing the language. I did not speak German, so I relied on a few common expressions and a couple fingers. Most people under the age of 30 knew some English, but it didn't matter much. It was amazing how easily the language barrier can be broken down with something as simple as beer. Hopefully, this narrative will give you the strength to carry on your own adventure.
Last summer, I was talked into taking a lone trip to Europe, with the intentions of seeing some old friends, assisting in a friend's business, and touring throughout the countries of Austria and Romania. That may seem like a random choice of places to visit but trust me, by the end of this article it will still seem random. All in all, I was there for about half the summer, touring the various bars and bistros around those parts of Europe. Sometimes I'd stop to check out a nice monument or museum, but usually only when it was on the way to the bar. What can I say? We all have our priorities. Or is it problems?
I spent a good deal of time in the city of Linz, which I really grew to like. I knew I would like it the moment I arrived. It has a modern feel and infrastructure, integrated with the typical beauty and intrigue of historical Europe. Sculptured statues, historical building facades, and a bar or cafe every 30 feet filled my every direction as I walked/stumbled down the stone paved streets. It was not a major tourist city, and this appealed to me as well since I feel it represented a truer embodiment of what the country is like.
The first night I arrived I was introduced to the lively nightlife. Not far from where I was staying, at the heart of the city was a large and beautiful plaza area, full of tables and benches and bordered be a variety of restaurants and pubs. I was more formally welcomed by Connie, who I had met on this fine evening sitting alone at an outdoor table while she was waiting for another friend to arrive. She was a sweet local girl with dark hair, who loved to talk politics, drink, and French kiss, in that order. Despite the fact that I hadn't slept since departing the states, sparks flew and we continued to get acquainted in a stall of a public restroom. How we ended up there, I have no idea. I usually don't question these things. All I knew is that I had just arrived and was already pretty comfortable in this place, and there was a lot left to be done. In Austria that is, not in the stall.
I found the cuisine to be quite enticing. After the my first 17 sausage meals in a row, I decided to try something different, called kaeseschnitzel, which is a kind of sausage. However these were healthier in that they were not all sausage, but instead had large portions of cheese stuffed within the meat, thereby combining food groups and eliminating the hassle of separately drinking milk to get my dairy fill. How the cheese got there I have no idea. I don't usually question these things, mainly because food rarely gives back an intelligent answer, but I would say that I enjoyed it. I would usually just eat what was put in front of me, hopefully it was food, and more often than not I was happy with the results.
A few days were spent in Vienna to see what many would proclaim as the greatest city in Europe. I wasn't there for 5 hours until I met the lovely Sylvia, who lived in the city and was a stewardess for a private charter airline. I happened to be walking next to her down the sidewalk of a major street and, trying not to seem lost, asked her where the hell I was and how to get to the Opera House. In what was not an uncommon display of the countries generosity, she did not tell me the directions, but instead demonstrated them as she walked with me to my destination, as well as several other popular tourist locations.
She accompanied me throughout much of the rest of the day, until she had to attend to her previous plans. I had found out that one of my favorite musicians, Bruce Springsteen, was performing in the area with the E-street band. So after years of failing to see him in America, either because it was sold out or too expensive, I decided to head over to the stadium where the concert was being held to see what happens. On the way there I met a very nice gentleman on a bus who assured me that the concert was sold out, which made me want to try and slit his throat with a travel brochure (it was the sharpest thing I had on me). But then he pulled out what I like to remember in my mind as the Golden Ticket. While I then began to hear a church choir hymn in the distance, I purchased one 60 Euro ticket to Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street band's The Rising tour in Vienna, Austria for a one time only discounted price of 30 Euros. I enjoyed the concert with my new Austrian friend, whose own group had, fortunately for me, failed in making the event. We listened to the powerful rhythmic sounds rupturing throughout the stadium while we drank servings of Austrian beer the size of our heads. He played for 3 hours and I worked my way pretty close to the stage, probably pissing off a few dozen people in the process, but getting a better look at the Boss and his entourage. At one point I even thought he was waving at me, but it ends up he was waving to the crowd. Ironically, seeing this American artist perform in Vienna was one of the major highlights of this venture.
I eventually met back up with Sylvia and spent some more quality time with her, touring the city and seeing first hand a little bit of what a living is like in this place, until eventually it was time for us to say goodbye and part our ways. I don't think I have to worry too much about forgetting this one.
Other places I visited and would recommend others to go see if they ever had an opportunity include Innsbruck, located at the heart of the Tirol region, and of course Salzburg, where the hills are alive.
Most people in the country were very good to me and I encountered surprisingly little anti-American sentiment, considering the time I was there. I found most people were either cautious to avoid bitter politics, or they were often open to pretty diplomatic discussions. I enjoyed endless friendly talks on the differences across the Atlantic, how our worlds have much to learn from each other, and how this can happen in time.
A few of the following weeks were spent traveling around some select parts of Romania. How I ended up there, I have no idea. I usually don't question these things. Though it may have something to do with a 16 hour drive from Austria through Hungary. I cannot elaborate much on Hungary since we purposely drove through most of it at night, essentially because we were not Hungarian, and according to my company, there would be no other reason to be there. I don't pretend to understand the petty yet age old rivalries among neighboring countries in Europe. Either way, I looked forward to my destination and as we drove up to the Romanian border, the sun was rising over the horizon and brightly lighting our path, and the dawn of a totally new land for me was at hand. But perhaps I'll get into that another time… |
