My whole life, I have dreamt of paris. I took three years of french, probably remembering only a week's worth, just to get a taste of French culture and prepare myself for my trip there one day. That day is today.
However, let me backtrack. We head to paris from munich via Stuttgart this day at 1030. We are fresh off an overnight train from vienna and our bellies are full of pastries and sausage. Last night we toured the mighty vienna, by having coffee and chocolate wafers at cafe sperl (a historic viennese coffehouse), by strolling through the naschmarkt (an outdoor market with every food you've ever wanted), by gazing, jaw dropped (as usual), at st. Stephens cathedral with it's line of taxi horses out front, by strolling up kohlmarkt(outdoor market with every piece of clothing you ever wanted), by having lunch at caffe landtmann with its spicy sausages, apple strudel, and ristretto, by relaxing in an authentic Turkish bath house, by standing in the shadow of the imperial hofburg palace, and by eating from the bitzinger sausage stand with lines around the corner. All of this was done on bike and much of what was seen in vienna can't be quantified. The feel of the city, it's great sites, it's art, poetry, and music. You can feel the grandiosity of the old austrian empire and the impact it still has today.
Moreover, the problem with munich was that we couldn't stay longer and the 4 hour layover was well worth the delay in getting to paris. We witnessed a magical moment while waiting outside a small german cafe named schmalznudel. The cafe opened at 8 but we arrived early, 730. Though very hungry, we were more than happy to watch the owner of the shop prepare the day's pastries as he wondered why there were Americans staring at him through the window. We watched him lay out the dough, toss it in the fryer and coat his masterful confections in sugar. I cant quite explain why this moment was so important except that it made me feel like a little kid again. I felt the same as when my dad and I would walk the boardwalk in Atlantic city. He put me on his shoulders as we passed the saltwater taffy stores and I saw them prepare the sticky sweets. I consumed the pastries when they opened dipping them in my perfect coffee. However sometimes it's just as good to watch from the window and wonder.
After our hectic couple of days in italy, it is good to be well rested and ready to travel to paris. Vienna and Munich were restorative. I realize my experience is now ending though and I must make sure to leave all of my blood, sweat, and tears on the streets of paris. I will leave no stone unturned as now Paris shall know our velocity!!!!
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