In Bicheno on the east coast of Tasmania. Went to the bathroom at 5:30 am, looked out the window, and a wallaby hopped by. So, I went outside . . . .
Daily Archives: January 7, 2015
Vienna
Both before and during our trip, people who have been to Vienna and Budapest raved about the former and were less enthusiastic about the latter. My expectations were based upon those reports, and so I was surprised by how I felt.
The Vienna portrayed in “Amadeus” and other such movies no longer exists, if it ever did. Allied bombing in WWII accounted for some of the “renovation,” and years straddling the fence between Eastern Communisim and Western Democracy discouraged capital investment. As we sailed into town, this history, the 21-degree temperatures, snow, and sleet, made the city look as drab as Stalin’s tunic.
There are gorgeous exceptions in the city center.
The opera house is as grand a building as you would hope to see. It was bombed by mistake during WWII, destroying half the building. The remaining original 19th century architecture is as ornate as a Viennese pastry, while the post-war restortoration is “United Nations” style and quietly elegant. The two styles don’t so much work together as live-and-let-live.
The symphony hall is non-descript on the outside and breathtakingly ornate inside.
Picture sitting inside a golden jewelry box with the jewels on the ceiling and walls.
Then there is the Alberina Museum which is situated within one of the Happsburgs’ palaces. (Brief history here: the Happsburgs were the 19th and early 20th century version of the Kardashians–but with immense power. The Austro-Hungarian Empire encompassed half of Europe.) I guess by definition a palace is a place where royalty live. All of the palaces in Vienna are neither moated nor turreted. They look more like Fifth Avenue mansions. This was another surprise for me.
The museum has a nice collection of Impressionism, Expressionism, Surrealism, and Cubism, and is small enough so you can appreciate it in a couple of hours.
Why would a city steeped in 18th-to-mid-19th century music, architecture, and culture sport such a museum? Because they also want to embrace and incorporate the modern to show their culture isn’t just an historic artifact. They have schools and expos dedicated to innovation and high tech. Even some of their most famous buildings like the Opera House sport very modern murals on outside blank walls. I like the concept, but I am not sure the execution works. The new stuff almost seems like graffiti against the old.
Speaking of graffiti, the Danube Canal, which runs through the city, and is really is the Danube River (the waterway called the “river” is actually a canal–don’t ask, it it has to do with flood control), is littered with it. The liberal Viennese government thought that if they gave the kids a place to express themselves, the rest of the city would be spared. Didn’t work, as anyone who has ever walked a dog could have told them–every tree, rock, and wall is a potential target of opportunity.
Fog in the Desert III
Please read part I, II, and II.5 first.
The worst part about the Etihad lounge was that they don’t know how to make a martini. My “Bombay Sapphire straight up with two olives” turned into a jigger of gin, and a jigger of vermouth right out of the bottle. Only the olives were cold. But, at 4am, they gave us free vouchers for a limo service into Abu Dhabi, 40 minutes away, and vouchers for the first-class Dusit Thani hotel, meals included.
Nicest accommodations of the trip, and close to the best food. (Their buffet beat anything in Vegas and at any hotel we’ve ever been to.) But, exhausted, we collapsed into bed and slept until Noon.
There are really only two sights to see in Abu Dhabi–the place is mostly for shopping. Dubai is the tourist Mecca (so to speak), but it was 90 minutes away. We couldn’t motivate ourselves to get up and see the sights, 1: a mosque, or Sight 2: The Corniche beach and shopping area. And, we kept falling asleep, knowing a 14-hour flight to Sydney awaited us.
At 7:15 it was time to go back to the airport for our 9:20 flight. As we checked out, the desk clerk said there was no Etihad limo for us. “Take a taxi–here’s the fare. It’s more than enough.” I asked what to do about tipping the driver and the change, if any. He replied, “Don’t tip.” And “You keep the change.” Tipping the guests . . . I could get used to that.
Once at the airport and at ease in the Premium lounge, we discovered that Etihad was still having problems with British Airlines to book us a flight to Hobart Tasmania. But we had been upgraded to First Class for the long flight, were scarfing down sushi, chicken Waldorf salad, salmon fusilli, and those potent, but incompetent Martinis.
The flight was delayed three hours–why weren’t we surprised?–and still Etihad could not quite get the Hobart connection fixed. Well, Sydney was closer to Hobart than Abu Dhabi, and was that key lime pie for dessert?
The plane was a 777; the seats were little compartments; the beds not only lay flat, but could easily accommodate six footers; the seats and beds had a massage setting; the entertainment was big-screen, noise-cancelling, and stereo; and the food was custom-prepared by an onboard chef who personally discussed your meal with you.
The slogan for ABC’s Wide World of Sports was “The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.” Our motto for this trip was becoming “the thrill of First Class and the agony of Economy.” The lows made the highs so much higher.
When we landed in Sydney on Tuesday, an Etihad representative had all the details ironed out–flight to Hobart Wednesday morning. But it was Tuesday. Yes, they would put us up again, this time at the airport hotel, meals included. Just pick up our bags.
Ahh, our bags. While Etihad had 24 hours to stow them aboard our plane, they seemed to have missed the flight. So had the bags of 55 other passengers. They handed me $204 Austrailian as a consolation prize and set out to find our luggage. Now, we really were beginning to feel like we were on the Etihad payroll.
Wednesday, day of our flight to Hobart. I am writing as we wing our way to Tasmania, bags still in limbo. Complicating variables are that despite Marcia correcting them three times, the airline spelled her name and my email address wrong, and seemed to lose my mobile number. Also, we will be moving around Tassie; even if they locate the bags, it will take some time and coordination to get them to us.
Because of my arm injury, we decided to put all our camera equipment into our luggage to make our backpacks lighter. Well, we do have our cell phone cameras. Also our rain gear, and hiking shoes and clothes are in the luggage. Come to think of it, ALL our clothes are in the luggage except for what we are wearing and some underwear and a couple of shirts. Oh, yes, the weather report is calling for rain tomorrow, and Adelaide, our next stop in about a week, seems to be burning down.
Sounds about right. Why settle for a vacation when you can have an adventure?
UPDATE BICHENO, TASMANIA
Etihad/Quantas did not put our bags on the next flight to Hobart, Tasmania because no one verified for a third time that we would be at the B&B that we’d told them twice before we would be staying at. And, word to the wise for the weary traveler using a USA cell in a foreign land, no one would call us internationally to verify anything–we had to call them. Of course we called Hobart, but no live person answered. All we got was a recording. And, leaving word did no good because no one was authorized to call internationally. Talk about being stuck in a loop. Finally, we got in touch with Quantas Australia (Their number was incorrect on their website!!! Another Tasmania branch office gave us the right number.) and they ordered someone to make the 2-hour drive to Bicheno to deliver our luggage the night before we took off for Cradle Mountain.