First of three parts
“Younger than Springtime are you. Gayer than laughter are you.
“Sweeter than music are you.” —Richard Rodgers
Spring cleaning had come early due to the stay-at-home directives in the Spring.
Closets, drawers, garage, pantry all were involved. I came across my journal entries from the Eurail Pass visit to Europe that my daughter, Suzanne, and I took in 1979. So the next three articles will be a memory of those happy hours travelling by first-class train from Rome to Vienna to Zurich to Copenhagen to Stockholm to Paris to London.It was a most remarkable adventure.
Dusk, dense and implacable, has settled over Venice as we begin walking. Lights sparkle all over the city. It is a romantic scene. Our train for Vienna left at midnight so we returned to the station and had a picnic dinner. Having found Ritz crackers and Coke in a store near St. Mark’s Square, we dine on ham, cheeses, fresh fruit and yogurt for dessert.
While waiting on the train platform, the conductor asked us if we were from Oklahoma and we both laughed. Of all the states to mention, he had chosen Oklahoma. So Suzie and I began to sing the song. “O K L A…Oklahoma, OK .” Two young Americans standing on a train platform in Venice and singing Oklahoma. It is a freeze-frame of memory. Our travels have taken us thousands of miles from home and we miss the States. When I was discussing what I’d do for Lent, my daughter said, “Just don’t give up anything American!”
Train conductors took both our passports. We slept the night en route. Passports were returned the following morning after our names were checked against Interpol records. No spies or malcontents here.
Vienna is a sensual masterpiece. The cathedral builders of the Middle Ages planned their houses of God to stand high above the roofs of the city so that the first sight to greet arriving visitors in Vienna were the spires of St. Stephen’s Cathedral. The tower, however, was not part of the original building which was started in 1258. St. Stephen’s is known for its beautiful stained glass and its impressive interior. The tomb of Kaiser Frederick IV is here in a huge sarcophagus of red marble. My favorite European cathedral, after St. Peter’s in Rome.
The cathedral is majestic and powerful. A greying gargoyle of worship and wonder. We late lunch at Trzenewski’s Buffet on the Dorotheergasse. The small open-faced sandwiches had cucumbers, carrots, crabmeat and egg on them. It was a warming Spring day, the gardens were in bloom and we watched the children playing in the park on our way back to the hotel where we were staying.
After London, Vienna is my favorite city. Schonbrunn Palace, the famous Spanish Riding School, Sigmund Freud’s house and consultation rooms at Berggasse 19, the Crown Jewels in the Hapsburg Museum, the Viennese Opera now playing “The Barber of Saville”…all of these gave us visual and intellectual pleasures.
At the Chapel of the Imperial Palace (Hofmusikkapelle) we attended the 9:30 a.m. Mass and listened to the eloquent and angelic sounds of the Vienna Choir Boys. The Chapel is small with a seating capacity of approximately 400. There is white Gothic scroll work on the walls, crystal chandelier, stained glass, and sculptures with flickering candles against red velvet drapes, gold angels on the altar, and pungent incense. Priest in pink and gold vestments. We soon would have to rush to the train station en route to Zurich and the Hotel Trumpy.
In Vienna we enjoyed warm pumpernickel bread for six schillings, or about 42 cents. Caviar and asparagus sandwiches cost 6.5 schillings. Viennese coffee was brought here 500 years ago by the Turks who had sought unsuccessfully to conquer Vienna and instead left this exotic sourvenir. The Viennese proceeded to create more than 20 varieties. Water is piped in from the Alps and is delicious. Viennese cuisine is superb and expansive.
I remember so many details about the city of Vienna. When we were returning from the Opera, quite late, we boarded a bus I thought would take us back to the hotel. But then the neighborhood looked unfamiliar so I stood up and asked “Does anyone speak English?” and the bus driver stopped the bus, conferred with a colleague on the bus behind us and told us it was the bus we wanted. Whew! Just me and an 11-year-old in the dark of a starry Vienna night.
Continued at thevoice.us/absorbing-a-european-trip-in-1979-paris-vienna-bonn