This is what a middle-aged French gentleman said to me when I accidentally scratched his finger on the way out of the elevator at the youth hostel in Vienna. He was more right than he knew. I do have quite strong nails, I love sleeping and lounging around, a dead mouse can keep me entertained for hours and don’t get me started on licking between my legs.
I was ecstatically happy when I arrived in Vienna because it was the first youth hostel I actually managed to find. This soon soured when I discovered that I don’t like youth hostels very much. I have enough trouble getting to sleep in a pitch black room in absolute silence when I’m tired, let alone in an environment reminiscent of school camp. There are lots of kids running around excited at being away from home for the first time and there is always a snorer. I’ve encountered a couple of world class snorers – one here and one in Zurich, my next destination. It would be hard to pick a winner. The Vienna snorer was amazingly loud and varied but the Zurich snorer would slowly build up to chainsaw levels before erupting in a fit of snorting. I have been taking regular naps to make up for my lack of night time slumber.
I liked Vienna. The first night I was there I went for a wander and got lost in the new city with the endless rows of shops. It reminded me of Sydney, mainly because of the pavement and road markings. The next day I headed down to the old quarter which is a really nice area for wandering around, a speciality of mine. It’s a pedestrian only zone apart from a few horse-drawn carriages that go lumbering by. I love the smell of manure in a city. It’s like a mixture of the past and the countryside. Vienna has the same huge buildings as in Germany but they have little touches of elegance about them. Still, it is a tribute to a fallen empire and such tributes are usually on the grand side.
My only bad experience in Vienna was watching the world cup with a bunch of yanks cheering for Brazil against England. When England lost one of the Americans said “Well at least there’ll be no more annoying English fans”. I desperately wanted to stab him in the neck with my pen but the laws that keep me safe protected him as well. Instead I took my anger to the streets but found no wave of irate English supporters to join in rolling cars over. Instead I took to the park and sobbed into the grass.
Dave out.
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