Homeward Bound

After arriving back in Malta late evening on Tuesday, we spent the day on Wednesday doing final walk-throughs of the student flats to make sure that things were put away and that everything was more or less clean. The Luther storage room in our flat is once again too full to walk into more than a few steps.

Thursday morning was final packing of our stuff. We don't buy lots of souvenirs and we always travel with our oldest, most worn-out clothing so that we don't feel bad about leaving it behind. Why, then, did our bags feel so heavy? One of the mysteries of travel life! But after traveling light around Europe, with only backpacks for days at a time, it seemed very strange to have so much stuff.

The taxi was early -- a rare event in Malta. Upon check-in, we learned that Lufthansa had comped us tickets to the VIP Lounge at Malta International Airport. Free lunch and free booze! We don't know what we did to get this, but we took full advantage of it -- even though it wasn't quite noon yet.

The plane from Malta to Frankfurt was right on time, but there was some sort of equipment delay in Frankfurt, so our plane did not depart until over an hour past the scheduled time. There were a lot of people missing connecting flights (Lufthansa was great about passing out hotel vouchers to these folks, so far as we could see, and few seemed to be complaining).

We feared we might be among those stranded in Chicago, as ours was the last flight of the day from Chicago to Des Moines. But as it turned out, we had time to spare. Immigration and Customs in Chicago are now largely electronic, so that process is swift. The horror stories about long security lines at O'Hare did not come true for us as we switched from international to domestic terminals. It helps to be traveling late at night.

By the time we got aboard that little commuter jet headed to Iowa, we had been awake for more than 26 hours. I had had a few brief catnaps (those glasses of complimentary wine in the VIP Lounge and aboard the Lufthansa flights contributed greatly), but Mary had been unable to sleep at all. Needless to say, we were dragging.

All luggage arrived in good shape, right along with us. In fact, our big bags were among the first off the plane and onto the baggage claim carousel. 

My parents insisted on coming to pick us up, even though the plane arrived (earlier than scheduled) at about midnight. We wanted to take a cab, but even at age 88 my Mom did well driving at night with my Dad, nearly 94 and able to see very little, cheering her on. We all went straight to bed, but Mary and I were both up and awake before 6 a.m. Jet lag sucks.

We set out for home on Friday afternoon, feeling pretty good, and arrived about 5 p.m. to find our house in amazingly good shape, save for some dust and quite an array of weeds in the garden. The water came back on with no leaks, water heater and refrigerator both came back to life and did their expected duty.

Saturday, which also came early for us, is unpacking and mail-sorting day. We are more tired today than yesterday, as the adrenaline rush of travel has worn off. There will be plenty of chores to keep us busy for the next week or so, at least. But I wonder how long it will before we start thinking about a new travel destination?

Vienna Art

For our last partial day in Vienna we walked to the Kunst Museum, part of the Hofburg Palace complex. This museum houses most of the artwork that belonged to the Habsburg royal family. They had quite a collection!

We began by climbing the grand stairway. The intricately carved marble and finely painted ceilings whet the appetite for the galleries to follow. Beginning in the wing for Spanish, French and Italian painters, we skipped over many to focus on the highlighted masterpieces.

Moving on to the German, Dutch and Flemish painters in the opposite wing, we did likewise, spending extra time in the rooms dedicated to Reubens, and to the museum's extensive collection of Pieter Bruegel the Elder. Most of Bruegel's most famous paintings are here.

After finishing with the paintings, we walked briefly through a collection of Habsburg tableware. We had just seen an even larger collection yesterday at the Sisi Museum in a different part of the palace, but here was some of the fine crystal and cut glass.

Finally, we went downstairs to view the Habsburg collection of antiquities. Like many European nobles of the 18th and 19th centuries, young Habsburg princes took their "grand tour" in the Mediterranean regions, often stealing ancient art (stealing fair and square, of course, by either digging it up themselves -- finders keepers -- or buying it from cash-strapped locals who had done the digging).

The young Habsburgs had done very well. The antiquities here rival or exceed anything we've seen in Egypt, Greece, Italy, or Britain. Some of the Egyptian works were particularly stunning, both in terms of quality of preservation and in terms of the quantity of items on display.

After a brief bit of souvenir shopping (we tend not to collect much), we headed off to our final traditional Viennese lunch. I think I'm ready to vary my diet away from roast pork, potato dumplings, and sauerkraut for awhile now.

We had checked out of the hotel after breakfast, but had to go back for our bags. Vienna's mass transit system to the airport is probably the cleanest, fastest, and cheapest we've run into anywhere. But we arrived very early and had time to kill. At least it's not an unpleasant place to wait.

How about that Habsburg lip?!?!?

Sisi

This morning we visited the Sisi Museum in the Hofburg Palace. This museum is primarily dedicated to the life of Empress Elisabeth of Austria-Hungary, wife of Emperor Franz-Joseph I. "Sisi," as she was known to close family members, lived from 1837 until her assassination in September of 1898. Other parts of the exhibit highlight the end of the Habsburg dynasty in 1918.

Sisi was sort of the Princess Di of her day. Young, passionate, poetic, and exceptionally beautiful, she was the trend-setter for women's fashion. She also suffered from depression, and possibly what we would call today an eating disorder. Her tragic death made her a legend, more famous after she was gone than when she was alive.

Sisi and her cousin, the Archduke (and thus future Emperor) fell madly in love at their first meeting. She was only 15 years old at the time. But the pressures of public life were unbearable for her. It is said that she was reduced to tears at her first public reception. The deaths of two of her four children added to her despair. Though she tried, she gradually withdrew from public life, traveling around her Empire, often under assumed names, trying to escape recognition.

Because she was seldom seen at public functions, and because the press was forbidden to write any criticism of the royal family, she was seldom mentioned and little noted during her lifetime. After her death, all restrictions were lifted. Highly exagerated accounts of her life were published, and she became a famous, if fictitious, royal martyr. 

The museum exhibits included the royal apartments of both Sisi and her husband, as well as a large display of palace tableware. There were cabinets full of silver plates and cutlery, elaborate centerpieces, glassware and porcelain items.

Photos were generally not permitted in the royal apartments. The audio tour made much of how the Emperor shunned luxury and tried to live the modest life of the common people. Looking at his digs, we were not impressed by his moderation.

We concluded with a walk through the palace gardens, past Parliament, around city hall, and to the exterior of the neo-Gothic Votive Church, which is closed for renovation. We also stopped by Mozart's apartment, but he wasn't home (all of the guidebooks say it's not worth the price of admission, so we only noted the exterior),

We tried the Rick Steves audio tram tour, but things go by rather quickly on the tram, so we found it mostly a waste of the tram fare.

We also made a point throughout the day of sampling more of Vienna's famous cakes, meats, wines and beers. As we made our way back to the hotel, the setting sun was brightly illuminating the spire of St. Stephan's Cathedral. It was another good day in Vienna.

Music Day

Our "pension" (usually pronounced 'pen-see-OWN' in Europe) is in a very old building right in the heart of old Vienna. The location can't be beat! It has been renovated, but the room is still quite small, and some of the usual amenities are lacking. But it was quiet, we got a good night's sleep, and breakfast was excellent.

Our first order of business this Sunday morning was church. But we walked right past a very nice Lutheran church to go to the Augustinian church, a Roman Catholic congregation that has its own paid professional orchestra, choir, and soloists. It's 11 a.m. high mass every Sunday. 

Today it was Mozart's "Kleine Credomesse" in F-Major. Prelude, postlude, offertory and Communion music by Karl Pilss, Felix Mendelssohn, Karl Jenkins, and more Mozart was added. The service was full "smells and bells" with lots of incense, procession with torches, etc.

Not knowing how this all worked, we decided to be there an hour early. We were not the first to arrive, but we had our pick of seats and the musicians were still rehearsing. Perhaps we over-did it a bit, because people really didn't start coming until about a half hour before service time. But we had the right idea, because by the time the prelude began the church was standing room only. Apparently it's packed like Easter every Sunday!

Although we weren't able to participate in the German responses, and I can't say we got much out of the German sermon, the order of service was pretty easy to follow, and the music was very fine indeed.

It had been raining on our way to church, but the sun was shining as we left and the day was already warmer than the forecast high. We decided to return to the hotel to rearrange our clothing for the day. European weather forecasts seem to be more guesswork than science.

We then set off to begin the Rick Steves audio tour of Vienna. Steves, the travel guru, has lots of free audio tours and interviews for download from his website. They are usually quite good. This one took us from the Opera, up to Stephansplatz, and on to Hoffburg Palace.

We had seen almost all of this before, but Steves always points out interesting things we had missed. One was a war memorial not far from the Opera. Another was the Demel shop, that used to make chocolates and fancy desserts for Habsburg princes and princesses. They sold some to us today, too.

One place not mentioned, but that we happened upon, was the "Maltese Church." It was a little chapel with all the trappings of the Knights of Malta, but the only explanation of why it might be here was in German, so it remains a mystery to us.

We also saw the interior courtyards of the Hoffburg, thanks to the walking tour, and got past the plain exterior to see the over-the-top baroque interior of St. Michael's church -- just outside the palace gates and frequented by kings and queens.

We decided on a late and heavy lunch. It was raining again, but we found a sidewalk cafe with a good awning and stayed both dry and well-fed.

After yet another adjustmet to our attire, we returned to the opera. Yes, we had cheap tickets in the balcony, but we got to see the show (Verdi's Macbeth). It was a musical day, indeed.

Bratislava

Bratislava is a nice place, but it was quickly clear that we were going to see pretty much all there is to see there in a very short time. The city is growing rapidly in business and industry. Tourism is a minor component of the economy, and the old "Historick Centrum" is pretty small and compact.

As mentioned, until recently the Centrum was a slum. After the end of the Communist era the government set about restoring properties here to their rightful owners, and encouraging restoration. A few properties have ownership still in dispute, and they continue to look as run down as everything did here 20 or 30 years ago.

We took a self-guided walk suggested by the Rick Steves travel book. We had already seen most of the area pointed out, but we did learn a few new things. For example, there are several buildings where cannonballs can be seen still embedded in the exterior stone work. Most of these are left from the Napoleonic Wars, during which the city suffered even more than in WW II.

Also pointed out was the wide variety of architectural styles standing next to one another. Part of the restoration of the area has included art, especially some whimsical sculptures that we had seen, but not paid much attention to. Perhaps the funniest is a characture of a Napoleonic officer that has been placed in the main square, immediately outside the French embassy. I hope the French ambassador has a sense of humor.

We also saw a Holocaust memorial on the site where the city's main synogogue once stood. The city's primary church was unavailable due to a wedding about to take place, but we were able to pick up some features of the exterior. We also saw the Communist-era bridge with a restaurant and observation deck known as "The UFO."

Finally, we walked along a pleasant green space near the U.S. Embassy, and then down river just a short distance beyond the Centrum to see a modern new development of shops and high-end condos. This is the Bratislava that is quickly emerging.

But we saw all of this in only about an hour and a half, then we were done. So we jumped on a train to Vienna a day earlier than originally planned. The trip is only a little over an hour. When we emerged in Stephenplatz, the center of old Vienna, the contrast was clear: Thousands of people were swarming in this city, eating and drinking, shopping and touring. Bratislava is sleepy, Vienna is a happening place!

After checking in a our "pensione" (sort of a budget, old-fashioned hostel) just a block from Stephenplatz, we found a sidewalk cafe for some lunch, then explored a bit and visited Stephensdom, the cathedral. Here, too, a June wedding (by the look of things, a VERY expensive wedding) precluded a full tour. But we did get to stand in the narthex and look around.

Dinner at another sidewalk cafe finished early enough for us to catch a free organ concert at another nearby church. More music and sightseeing in Vienna will be in store for tomorrow.

The Great Synogogue

After breakfast we packed and checked out of the hotel, but left our bags at the desk for one more morning of exploring Budapest. We walked a short distance to the old Jewish quarter, where we passed one synagog, only peeking in the door to see that it would not be worth the price of admission.

We continued on to the "Great Synogogue" and were surprised to see such long lines for tickets, even before the opening time. But the admission was being handled efficiently (except for the inevitable clueless tourists who appear never to have been through a security screening before -- it's just like the airport, folks).

The synogogue itself was quite a sight. It has been described as "the best Catholic synogogue in Europe," and indeed, one might almost be convinced that it is a church. Pews, stained glass, a large pipe organ, and high pulpit on the side wall, are all features of the basilica down the street. Of course, there is an ark for Torah scrolls instead of an altar or crucifix, but that is almost the only give-away.

In the crypt beneath the synogogue is a photo exhibit of the building's history. Its renovation is quite recent, having stood in a state of disrepair from Nazi occupation until after the Communist era. A garden courtyard next to the building is a memorial to Holocaust victims.

Some 600,000 Hungarian Jews lost their lives, but only a fraction of those have their names inscribed here. Unless affiliated with this particular syngogue, one needs to have survivors willing to pay to have the name included on a leaf of the stainless steel weeping willow monument.

The museum was something of a disappointment. Half of it was closed for reconstruction, the other half was a more or less random collection of stuff. The most important artifact, in my opinion -- the original list, typed by Raoul Wallenberg, of Jews to whom he had granted Swedish passports -- was not highlighted or even well-preserved. It was just in a glass case, the yellowing pages not even benefitting from climate control.

We returned to the hotel a bit sooner than we had planned, grabbed our bags, and headed for the rail station. It was a good thing we were early, as we had to wait in a very long line to buy our tickets to Bratislava. But the train was on time, quiet, comfortable, and the ride along the Danube was occasionally scenic. In a little more than two and a half hours we were in Bratislava central station.

We asked some locals for directions and were soon on the tram, headed for the "Historick Centrum," or the old city. Bratislava is a rapidly developing national capital, with business and industry the primary drivers. Hotel prices here are high on weekdays, for expense account travelers, but we got a deal on a 4-star hotel on a Friday night. Most tourists come off the river cruisers and don't need hotels.

The old city was a slum during the Communist era, but has emerged largely restored with a quaint, old world flavor rivaling other great cities in this part of the world. But it's smaller. The Centrum is all pedestrian, so the streets are free of traffic.

Our first order of business was to follow the signs to the tourist information office. But we encountered a parade of school children, all in traditional costume, who stopped at the corner where we were standing to do their singing and dancing. It was sort of llike happening upon an accidental performance of Decorah's Nordic Dancers!

It is a mystery why so many places seem to hire crabby women of a certain age to staff their tourist information offices. This one barely tolerated our obviously stupid questions, and provided a map to our hotel. Turns out we were only a couple blocks away from it when we got off the tram, but if we had gone straight there, we'd have missed the parade.

We asked the crabby woman if there were some sort of festival going on this weekend. Her reply was, "No, that's just some Hungarians. It's just a normal weekend." Even though Bratislava was, for a time, the capital of Hungary, apparently it's no longer cool to be Hungarian here.

Bratislava is famous for brew pubs, but none are in the Centrum. We walked quite a way to one, but discovered that all the tables were indoors and the food was pricey. It was a gorgeous evening to be outside, so we went back to the tourist area. Big mistake. We had one of the few bad meals we've had since being in Europe. Our own fault. Mary usually puts in quite a bit of time and effort checking reviews and identifying good places to eat. She skipped that this time, and the result was sad.

At least we enjoyed a good night's sleep in our budget-priced 4-star hotel.

Bath Day

We felt quite proud of ourselves for navigating swiftly to Deak Ter, a plaza that is one of Pest's central transportation hubs. There we quickly identified the correct bus stop and jumped aboard one of Budapest's frequent and efficient buses (Malta should take lessons from these folks!) which took us across the river to Buda and up to the Citadella, or castle hill.

Hungary has not had a monarch since the end of World War I, and the Royal Palace was almost completely demolished as Nazi and Soviet forces sought the high ground in World War II. It was rebuilt as a museum piece during the Communist era, according to plans that bore little resemblence to the original design. As the Rick Steves book puts it, "it has no soul."

Nevertheless, the views from up here are spectacular, and there are some interesting sights around the exterior. We began by visiting the statue of the Turul bird, a mythical creature that supposedly led the Magyar tribes out of central Asia and directed them to settle in Hungry. (Apparently the bird occasionally took wrong turns, as some of these tribes wound up in Finland, instead.)

Since birds are popular here, we also saw several versions of a raven with a gold ring in its beak. This is the symbol for King Matyas (Matthias) I who ruled 1458-1490. Matthias is sort of the King David of Hungary. He held the Turks at bay, expanded his rule to empire proportions, and was known as "The Just" for his concern for the common people.

On the opposite side of the hill is an ornate, neo-Gothic church known as Matthias Church -- even though Matthias has never been canonized as a saint, nor was the present church around until long after he was gone. 

There has been a church here since the 11th century, but the series of buildings has been destroyed and rebuilt so many times that I think even the Hungarians have lost track. This one was built 2006-2013 after laying in ruins after WW II and through the Communist era. It looks the part, though. The interior looks entirely Medieval.

From the Citadella we returned by bus to the bottom of the hill. We had planned to bus all the way back to Pest, but our failure to discern the difference between Route 16 and Route 16A left us at a different transport hub on the Buda side. No worries, we simply got on the Metro and flew underground to our next stop, TerrorHaza.

The House of Terror didn't intrigue me when I first heard the name -- it sounds too much like a Halloween attraction. But this house, built in 1880 on a beautiful, tree-lined boulevard in a neighborhood of 19th century affluent residences, was a different sort of terror. In 1937 it became the "House of Loyalty" for the "Arrow Cross Party," Hungary's version of the National Socialists.

When the Nazis took Hungary in 1944, brown-shirted members of Arrow Cross were distinguishable from Nazis only by the insignia on their arm bands. The "Loyalty House" at 60 Andrassy Boulevard became the Gestapo headquarters. With Soviet occupation in 1945, the address remained the same, only the names of the torturers changed.

The museum unfolds this history in Hungarian and in English, culminating in the basement prison cells and execution chambers. There is even one large room about the role of the churches -- not only the marjority Catholic Church, but also the Lutheran and Reformed churches -- and how these were undermined by the regimes.

From TerrorHaza, it was not a long walk up Andrassy Boulevard to Hero's Square, a large city park, and the Szechenyi Baths. One of the things the Turks left behind was the concept of the Turkish bath (which, to be fair, the Turks inherited from the Romans). The Hungarians take their baths seriously, and this 100+ year old facility is popular with the locals, as well as the tourists.

We paid a little bit extra to have a "cabin" in which to change and hang our clothes. For local men, the tiny, classic Speedo racing suit is the standard uniform. My current swimwear tends to have more fabric. Women's suits range across fashion trends, generally with more fabric for older women than for younger. There are pools of various temperatures, with the largest outdoor pool at 37C (that is, 98.6 degrees fahrenheit).

After lounging in the various pools for nearly a couple of hours, we showered and changed, only to be blessed by a cold afternoon rain shower on the way back to the Metro. It had been sunny all day, so we hadn't thought to bring our umbrellas. Nevertheless, we made it back to the hotel. We enjoyed yet another excellent Hungarian meal in a neighborhood restaurant.

After dinner, we strolled briefly in the area that, prior to WW II, had been the Jewish Quarter. This area was the low rent district after the war, and after the Communist era became the location of "ruin pubs." These were funky little bars in the ruined and unrestored buildings that became popular with the young and the counter-culture crowd. Today, they are mostly about young tourists, expensive drinks, and "consumption girls" (as translated literally from the Hungarian).

We didn't stay long, as it wasn't our kind of atmosphere. But having at least seen a bit of it, we returned to the hotel where, relaxed from the baths, we made it an early night.