Don Quixote (the ballet)

Another of the great attractions I took my parents to was the Wiener Staatsoper. Since I figured they would rather see a ballet than an opera in a foreign language (and the only other thing playing was Wagner - yuck). Plus, my parents have taken up ballroom dancing, and become avid dancers. A ballet is right up their alley.

I myself love the ballet as well, and I wish I had gone to more while I was in Vienna! Though I am ridiculously uncoordinated, I did take ballet lessons for several years as a little girl. I decided I would make a magnificent ballerina - if only I didn't have to be dictated to and oppressed by the rhythm of the music! Ah well.

Don Quixote is a great comic ballet. I've seen Swan Lake at La Scala in Milan, and the Nutcracker a million times every Christmas season on TV, but that is the extent of my live ballet experience. Vienna does the Nureyev choreography, and it was truly magnificent. I can't help but feel I've missed out on something, going to all those operas all year instead! 

Spanish Riding School

Lipizzaner in regalia

One of the great tourist destinations in Vienna I wanted to take my family to was the Spanische Hofreitschule, or Spanish Riding school. Mom likes horses, and these are one-of-a-kind, pretty stinking cool horses. Tickets for a show are ridiculously expensive (on their website you can check price listings) but tickets to their morning exercises are relatively cheap by comparison. 

We did this, along with taking a tour of the stables, which are purportedly cleaner than most hotel rooms in Vienna. Since the horses are only trained and bred in Austria, they are well cared-for. 

performance ring

 The story of Lipizzaner is an interesting one. The name of the breed comes from the Slovenian town of Lipica, where the horses originated. Bred from Arabian stock, they were brought from Spain to Austria by the Habsburgs, specifically Maximilian II, in the 16th century. They were originally trained in a military capacity, but now are trained for the show.


Six original foundation stallions were bred in the 18th century, along with 20 mares, which means all the Lipizzaners in world can count one of these six stallions as an ancestor (if horses are into genealogy) and the stables make sure to include each of these stallions in the naming of the contemporary horses. It is curious to note that only stallions are allowed to be trained as Lipizzaner performers. Thing is, the presence of female horses would distract the boys too much while they're performing their exercises. In accordance, only men were traditionally allowed to become trainers and riders, but the Spanish Riding school decided to allow women to become trainers as well in 2009. There are currently three women Lipizzaner riders at the school.

performance hall

Another curiosity of the Spanish Riding School is that they prefer riders who have not had previous riding experience, since the skill set to perform with a Lipizzaner is so specific (and those training the horses may slip into old habits such as, God forbid, English standard rather than classical dressage) that preservation of the school is paramount. Those between the ages of 18 and 25 interested in a career as a rider may apply, providing adequate German language skills and minimal professional horse experience. A rider may be able to perform in five years, with little to no horse experience going in, so they can't be too old when they start.

 The performance hall was commissioned by Charles IV in 1729, and is really fit for an emperor! The floor is sand, which means the horses do not need to be shoe'd - in fact, putting shoes on them would hinder their performance, especially on the high jumps, etc. (Shoes throw off a horse's balance.) We did not get to see much at the Morning Exercises, unfortunately. But--they don't promise much, just what the horses and/or riders need to work on.

being led to stables

Another note: it may or may not be well known that all Lipizzaners are born black and slowly turn white as they grow and age. It takes about seven years for a horse to be trained (and for a rider to train them) and, although a horse may be technically proficient before--or in--seven years, he may not perform in the expensive evening show until he has turned completely white. Certain horses, due to inherent flukes in selective breeding, may never turn white. This is very rare, but tragically, a horse is not allowed to perform until he has become white.

Interesting fact: during World War II, the Spanish Riding school would have perished were it not for American General George S. Patton. (The Russians wanted to slaughter the horses for meat). He was a horse lover and petitioned to get the horses safely out of Vienna. His 60th anniversary rescue of the horses was recently celebrated by the Spanish Riding School. Not that this has sparked great love and admiration for Americans by the Viennese, but: Where there's a will, there's a way!

Bohemian Rhapsody

Rhapsodic, perhaps not, but enjoyable to say the least! After Hungary, the family went to Prague for a few days, to get a feel for the city. Here is the Old Town Square (most famous, I believe):

Hard Rock Cafe

 

 Though Budapest was decidedly Mom's favorite city, Prague was Dad's. He mentioned how much he loved the old buildings and the grime that made it all more "real". Well, cool. I can't help but agree, though I may have put it differently.

We enjoyed ourselves, though it was rainier than in Budapest or Vienna. We had one good day, one rainy day (when we went to see Prague Castle) and it was quite a bit colder - though, Prague is rather farther north than Budapest.  

We watched the Astronomical Clock, as everyone who visits Prague does. It's so beautiful and amazingly accurate, to miss it would be sacrilege, really, to the code of the traveler.
























We did most of the touristy things - the Jewish quarter, Prague castle, lots of walking; we did not make it to the Kafka museum before it closed, sadly, but it was not a total bust: we drank plenty of beer!

Old Town Hall

One of the places we went to was a pub devoted to Vlad the Impaler. I know, I know! You're thinking, "What?!?! That's worse than those vampire nuts!" Well, it was Mom's suggestion, and right across from our guesthouse, so we figured, why not? It was an unexpected good time.

not the vampire bar, just the absinth museum

The bar was not actually open for business, but the door was unlocked, and the owner and his friends were smoking pot and playing X-box games when we came in. We really were just going to head right back out and find a different place down the road, but the owner insisted we sit down and make ourselves comfortable. He didn't know a lot of English, but he knew enough. He ran out to the store (or maybe even to his own apartment) and brought us back bottles of beer.

How could we refuse him when he went to all that trouble? The walls were all in red, and there were framed posters of Vlad, plus some medieval reproductions on the walls and other posters of vampires (none from Twilight) which made me think of some of my sister's goth-obsessed friends from high school. But just vaguely.

Another crazy interlude was a transvestite strip club we happened upon while looking for a restroom and/or a place to have dinner. I wanted to go to the Rilke cafe (named after the poet), but it was too expensive - or so everyone else said. Mom walked further down the street to this little hole-in-the-wall place, which turned out to be the transvestite strip club. It was only about 6 PM, and they were not really open for business. I think the bouncer tried to convince Mom it was not a family place (thus discouraging her) in Czech, but she couldn't understand him. Turns out, the pole in the middle of a stage, off the dining room, was proof enough - no explanation necessary.

I rented an apartment again for us, since it's so much cheaper than a hotel. In Europe, you can't have more than two adults in a hotel room without having to pay a tax (or pay for another room), but if you stay in a "guesthouse" you can circumvent that and pay less - so we did. This one in Prague was unfortunately grungier than the one in Budapest (and for some reason run by Pakistanis) but it was comfortable enough...and they had cats! 

We saw two, both of which came into our apartment because of the rain. We couldn't get rid of them! And they looked just like our cats - one was black and one was a tiger cat - a boy and girl. I named the boy Clemens (male derivative of Clementine, or Tina for short) and the other one Julia II (for our black cat Julia). Julia II is expecting kittens, and we're pretty sure we know who the father is...

Sam and Clemens

Julia II

Here are some more pictures of the Charles Bridge, the Jewish quarter, and Prague Castle, including the King Solomon's restaurant (which I thought was distasteful, but Mom thought was funny):

Golem?

Mom, Dad and Sam leave for home today. I'm leaving Austria myself soon. Wondering at the moment if I can get in everything I need to, since today is Corpus Christi, and (like all Catholic holidays in Austria) nothing is open. I'm obliged to put off everything to tomorrow before I go to the airport. Einfach ist das Leben nicht!

The Hungary Family Plan

When I asked my mother what she most wanted to see while she was in eastern Europe, she said "Budapest!" So I booked a weekend for the family in Hungary's capital.

family on the hill

As witnessed in this blog, I've been to Budapest several times before. I love the city - there's just something about it that really appeals to me! I was happy to share the experience with my family, though it was trying at times to get through, since none of us knows Hungarian.

Mom's favorite quotable moment was on the bus. We were trying to find the guest house apartment I had booked for us, and accidentally took the right bus the wrong way. In an unfamiliar part of town, we are speaking English (loudly) and attempting not to start a fight on the bus (at least I am) when my mom asks a middle-aged man how to get from where we are to the apartment.

"You are English?" he asks.
"No, American."
"Oh. America is very big country."
"Yes," agrees Mom.
"You like Budapest?"
"Very much so far."
"Budapest is nice city."
"The weather is nice."
"You like Budapest. Budapest is nice city."
"Yes."
"Budapest is nice city. You like?"

At that point, it was apparent to me the man had exhausted his English vocabulary. However, he was light years friendlier than anyone my parents had met in Austria! It was charming of him to try, in any case.

We made it to the apartment all right and in one piece. Our delightful host Tibor mentioned this-and-that monument, restaurant, museum, pub. The apartment was adorable and spotless, and these greeted us from across the street:

famous Hungarians?

 After we settled in, we wandered around to the banks of the Danube, across the bridge from Pest to Buda, and  walked through the park, up the Buda Hills to the Liberty monument and back down. Some pictures from that excursion:

For dinner, we went to this restaurant that played "Gypsy music." I had always wanted to go to one of those shows, and convinced the family to do it. Unfortunately, as Dad put it, "They put the 'gyp' in Gypsy," charging a ridiculously high "cover charge" to hear the musicians and tasted the "complimentary" wine that turned out to complement very little. Thus is the woe of the naive traveler!

The next day, we went to the baths - the Szechenyi spa - and had a lovely time lounging around, though the weather was in the 70s, and a bit cooler than what we could have hoped for for the outdoor pool.

On the way home, we saw a hubbub in the park - it was a wine festival! I just had to see what was up! We bought glasses of different kind of wines to taste. The festival seemed like an annual thing. Mom and I enjoyed it, but Dad and Sam are just not wine drinkers! Perhaps I will have the chance to do it again...

We also went to St. Stephen's cathedral, the Fisherman's Bastion, and other Budapest sights. There were two weddings taking place at the Fisherman's Bastion (it is wedding season, after all!) but we did not take pictures. In my opinion, it's a little (or a lot) weird to take a picture of a stranger's wedding.



On the way home, we ran into a school group of graduating high school seniors on their way to one of their teacher's houses to say goodbye and wish her well in song. It is a tradition called "serenade" in Hungary (I heard the explanation eavesdropping on a couple sitting at an outdoor cafe) and the graduating class goes to every teacher's house the day before their ceremony. Their voices were beautiful, lifting through the trees: poetic, romantic, tragic; soothing and lyrical, yet sad.

It made me wonder what teaching in Hungary would be like - better or worse than in Austria? How different? How similar? Would my lack of Hungarian pose a problem? One semester of the language (as a student in Berlin) has allowed me to introduce myself, list off the colors, and get into trouble with men named Attlia. (That's a story I will not share on the internet)...

Although I have friends who have braved teaching in a foreign culture without first learning the language, I am not so brave. I'd rather stick to living in a country where I can at least converse in the language before I agree to move there. Perhaps this is unremarkable, but I always know I can discipline the kids myself if they get bad enough (and they'll know exactly what I mean).

I think everybody enjoyed themselves, but with Sam and Dad, it's sort of hard to tell sometimes. The weather's been nice, and no one has been complaining outright and constantly, all very good signs! I joke, but only slightly...

parliament building 

chain bridge

The next leg of our journey is to Prague. More on that later!