Europe 2014: Air, Water, Food

One of the things I noticed while traveling this summer was how different the air, water and food was in each of the three places I spent significant time.

Air

Behind Sacre Coeur, Paris

Madrid has an arid climate, so the air is fairly dry (though not as dry as, say, Bend, Oregon). Smells carry well, especially in the summer when the sun heats the air. It smells mostly of urine and feces, both from dogs and from humans. On occasion one also smells delicious food, but it's hard to know how to react when you're simultaneously smelling delicious food and sun-heated urine.

The only two things I remember about Paris's air is that it was humid - once you started sweating, you never dried off all day - and that at times it smelled so strongly of the sewer that I felt nauseous.

I don't recall that Vienna smelled a particular way, nor that it struck me as either humid or dry. What I do remember is that the air was somehow greasy. At the end of the day my skin felt greasy and my hair looked as though I hadn't washed it in three days. I'm not sure what causes this...perhaps all the street-vended meat?

Coming home: Vienna to Madrid

I awoke to my phone alarm at 4:30am on Sunday, August 31. As is my unintended custom when I have to get up early for something, I hadn't slept much or very well.

Veronika got up with me and made us coffee while I dressed and finished packing my bags. We stood in the kitchen chatting as I drank my coffee and ate the croissant I'd had the unusual foresight to buy the previous afternoon. Though I don't remember now what we talked about, I remember it was a pleasant and interesting conversation, and that I was grateful for her company.

Around a ten after five, I hugged Veronika goodbye, reassured us both that I'd left the keys to the flat on her entryway bench, and left her flat for the last time. With a pack full of clothes on my back and my purse and another backpack full of computer and notebooks, I went down the stairs and out the front door into the quiet, still-dark street. As I rounded the corner I heard a voice above me. "Yes, that is right!" she said. I looked up to see Veronika had poked her head out the window to make sure I knew the way to the tram stop. We waved to each other and I continued on.

Last week in Vienna

It only took me one weekend in Prague to forget how to do tipping in Vienna, and it took me most of the week to remember to answer the server with a new total.

At a Heurigen with classmates

In other news, I went out several times with classmates and/or our German teacher last week. As a result, I got to see an entirely different side of Vienna. Up until going out to her favorite bar with my German teacher, Vienna had seemed to me a subdued city with unfriendly servers and people who don't smile much or interact with random people they don't know. But at Jetzt (the bar), the servers and other patrons both were friendly and willing to chat. 

The bar itself reminded me a bit of my favorite bar in Portland, The Florida Room, in terms of lighting and quirky décor. A beat-up billiard table in the back. Plenty of regular clientele. The main difference was that I don't think there was a single person in Jetzt above the age of 40, whereas you can find people of all ages at The Flo' Ro'...but it could've just been the fact that it was a Wednesday night.

Heurigan feast!

This weekend (Vienna/Prague)

This weekend, the following things happened:

• One of my German classmates, a Japanese woman, got married to her Viennese boyfriend. Jetzt ist sie verheiratet.
• My German language teacher, Barbara, sliced off the tip of her pinkie finger, found it on the floor, washed it off, stuck it back on, and wrapped it in gauze and medical tape. Wide-eyed,  "Did you go to the hospital?" I asked in present-tense German and using the English word for hospital. "Nah," she said. And after a little more thought/discussion, "But maybe I should."
• I went to Prague.

My favorite things about Prague:

Adventures in Wien (Vienna), Part 1

A street in downtown Vienna

Weather
It feels like autumn here already. We had a week of hot (in the low 80s Fahrenheit) and humid (one day it was 97% humidity!), and now we're having a stretch of cold, cloudy and sometimes rainy days. Today, for example, it was 61 degree Fahrenheit at noon, and the breeze is chilly.

Culture of tipping

Simple breakfast

Unlike in Spain and Paris, where tipping is completely voluntary & there are no hard feelings if you don't, tipping in Vienna is the norm, and if you don't tip it's an insult. I haven't asked anyone yet what the usual amount is, but based on experience it seems that 10% is completely satisfactory, and if you leave 20% they act like you've just given them a huge present. The tricky part - which luckily I learned during my first week from Georg, my housemate's brother - is that (unlike in the U.S., Spain & France) you're not supposed to wait until they've already given you change and walked away. Instead, when the server tells you the total, you should immediately say back to them a new total that includes tip. For example, if the server says that the bill for my coffee is €3,20, then I might tell her €3,50. That way she knows I intend to leave a tip and she might actually smile at me. Or at least let one corner of her mouth lift a centimeter for a split-second. It also saves her the trouble of trying to find the right amount of change when I only intend to give part of it back to her anyway. So I tell her the new total, she immediately says, "Danke," and then gives me the correct change minus tip.

Reflections on Paris & what's next

Pastry & coffee in Paris

In my previous visits to Paris, what I liked most was the food, the coffee, and the energy of the city. Regarding the last: it felt alive and vibrant, well-suited to philosophy and creativity.

My experience this time was quite different, in part due to being on a tight budget (therefore couldn't afford to eat out in restaurants much) and in part due to a difference in energy. I'm not sure whether it's the high unemployment rate or the particular neighborhood I was in, but this time Paris felt...heavy. Not stagnant, more like slightly oppressive. (Now that I say that, I realize that might again be a result of the limited budget; it's hard to feel free in a place where you can't afford anything.) I still loved the coffee (and eventually found some for €1,60) and the pastries were delicious, though, so not everything had changed.