Girls’ weekend begins . . .

Posted on January 23, 2014 by admin

I actually thought I might vomit before I could leave the house last Friday. Part of it was anxiety about the trip — I tend to worry much more than is called for over missing buses, planes and trains. Part of it was being uncomfortable with traveling alone — as much as I’m a well-seasoned European traveller (this would be my third time to London), I’ve only travelled a very little bit on my own. But most of it was worry, stress and sadness at the thought of leaving my boys for just over 65 hours. I’m just not used to it.

It was my first trip away from Liam, and my first trip away from anyone since we’ve been in Austria. I’m actually a little grateful for my over-anxiousness about missing my flight. Without it, I might not have overcome the paralysis I was feeling about actually going. Eventually, my stress over missing my flight overwhelmed my stress about leaving the kids, so I was able to actually go.

Within the first half hour I was away (I hadn’t even caught the bus to the airport yet) I was stunned. I had so much downtime. What was I supposed to do with myself? For most of the trip to the airport, I just sat and looked out of the window. I have lost all of my habits for idle time — most of the time I’m with the kids or attending to something pressing, and in the few moments I actually have “free”, there’s always at least SOMETHING that needs my attention (outlining my next blog post, sending cute pictures of the kids to my family, making a grocery list, planning our next outing). I had nothing that I had to do. No errands to run, nothing that needed my attention, no endless questions to answer, no one to keep entertained, no one to shush or calm down or keep safe. It was really weird. I had no one to talk to and lots of time on my own. I truly did not know what to do with myself (and I’d been out of the house for less than an hour).

I adjusted. It took a while to even think of reading, watching a movie on my phone, or listening to music. Once I was able to get used to actually being able to focus on something for leisure, it was really pleasant (but still, there was no place I would rather have been right at that moment than home getting ready for movie night with my family). The flight was great, and eventually I stopped jumping to attention every time a child on the plane would cry. It actually became pretty pleasant to snap out of my focus on my book only to remember that my kids were at home and I could go right back to reading — a little like waking up before the alarm in the morning and getting to enjoy snuggling back into bed for a while.

On my own, I had a lot more time for random thought, too. Standing in the forever-long “all other passports” UK Border line, I contemplated what passport control must be like for moderately famous people. I imagine they have to wait in the same line as everyone else (unless they’re SUPER famous and this disruptive to the process, then maybe there’s some other provision), which must be awful. I figure they’d get bothered, asked for autographs or whatever, but there would be nothing they could do to get away! That must be even worse than just waiting through the line as a regular person, which isn’t any fun, either. (This is what happens to my mind when I don’t have kids to entertain, apparently.) Also, I spent a little time contemplating how/why people can’t tell where I’m from. I had a British person think I was British (after talking to me?!?) on the plane and a woman in the Customs line came up and spoke to me in an impressive stream of Russian — then, after seeing my confusion, apologized in fluent English, saying she thought I was Russian, too.

It was odd to be on my own — not just being an off-duty mom, but being completely solo on my journey. It was strange to not have anyone to coordinate with. When my train from the airport was delayed by an hour and a half, I didn’t have anyone to hash out an alternate plan with, nor to pass the time with. And when I finally made it to Victoria Station after midnight, there was no one with whom to debate the various merits of taking a cab or the subway, so I got to decide on my own. (After midnight, raining, with luggage and not 100% sure where I was going — I opted for a cab, and I think it was the best £10 I spent the whole trip.)

I made it, all on my own, from Vienna to London. I managed to remember how to read a book on a plane, hail a cab and watch TV in a hotel room (that wasn’t a cartoon). The trip was going great already, and the really fun stuff hadn’t even started yet!

Girls’ weekend in London

Posted on January 17, 2014 by admin

I interrupt my heartfelt reminiscing about our Christmas at home … with a trip to London! This evening I’ll be flying over to meet a friend for a girls’ weekend. We’re going to see a show, take in as many sights as we can, do the Harry Potter tour and probably have a pint in an actual pub (though Pam will probably opt for a glass of wine).

It is my very first time doing anything like this since I’ve been a mom. It will be the first time I’ve ever spent the night away from Liam, and the first time I’ve ever been away from either of them overnight just for fun (I came to Vienna from the US for a weekend before we decided to move here — before Liam was born — and was away from B overnight when Liam was born). So this is really strange for me.

I’m half thrilled and half anxious. I’m struggling to comprehend traveling on my own and am already feeling how much I’m going to miss my boys. I can’t wait to see my good friend and explore an exciting city together and I’m hoping the boys have so much fun having their guys’ weekend with Dan that they barely notice I’m gone. This all feels very grown up and sophisticated. There’s really no way to say, “I’m meeting a girlfriend in London for the weekend” without sounding very fancy. But I don’t *feel* more grown up or fancier than usual, so it does seem a bit strange.

It’s a little weird to me that I’m going so far away for my first weekend away. But I think that’s because it’s an international flight — really, though, it’s only a 2 1/2 hour trip. I’m not actually going that far. In a way, it’s probably good that there’s a plane ride between me and my boys — it will help to discourage any middle of the night urges to just go home (though I do expect that the desire will still surface).

The boys keep asking who is coming to stay with them. We keep reassuring them that Dan will be here the whole time. At first, I thought they were confused (why would Mommy go and Daddy stay?) but I got the impression today at lunch that they understand just fine that it’s only me who is going — they just want to know who ELSE is coming to take care of them. They keep asking if our downstairs neighbor (our regular babysitter) is coming over to take care of them (which came from a conversation where Dan & I were discussing that she’s offered to be “on call” in case he needs help at any point). They just can’t seem to quite accept that it’s going to be JUST them and Daddy this weekend. (That’s ok — I’m not sure I can quite accept it either!)

So off I go to live it up for 62 hours in London. I’m sure we’re going to have a great time and make some fantastic memories. I guess it’s the consequence of being a mom, but some of the things I’m looking forward to the most are some of the simplest — sleeping all night (maybe even sleeping past 7:00 in the morning!) and being able to choose restaurants based on what I want to eat. That, plus spending time with a good friend, should make it an excellent weekend. (It remains to be seen whether I’ll be able to relax, or if I’ll spend the majority of the time worrying about what’s happening at home!)

Gifts on Christmas Eve

Posted on January 16, 2014 by admin

Christmas in Vienna is lovely, and both times that we were there for the holidays we had a very nice (if very quiet) time. But nothing compares to Christmas with family.

The lead-up to Christmas Day in Vienna truly is wonderful. I’ve been completely won over by the coziness of the Christmas markets, the grand yet warm feeling of the lights hung over the busy streets and the peacefulness of focusing on togetherness and family over shopping and buying. I absolutely love it. I’m a convert. I hope to carry part of Christmas in Vienna with me my whole life. I hope that I have been fundamentally, irreversibly changed by experiencing it.

Christmas at home, surrounded by a bustling family, is where my heart really lives, though. Getting a tree, wrapping gifts, gathering for meals, watching my boys put the star(s) on the tree and spending the days leading up to Christmas Day playing and talking together — it was exactly the holiday I wanted to have.

Christmas Eve itself was a whirlwind of dinner, bath time, hanging stockings, sprinkling “reindeer food” on the lawn, leaving a snack for Santa, reading “The Night Before Christmas” and then tucking two very excited boys into bed a few hours later than I’d planned.

And then we elves went to work! The wrapping was mostly done, but all of the gifts had to be pulled out from where they’d been hidden away, batteries had to be put in place, everything had to be set out just right and we had two firetrucks with over 100 pieces each that needed to be assembled (thanks for that, Santa). It was a big job, but since this was our sixth Christmas as parents, Dan & I are not strangers to the late-night Christmas Eve gift assembly party. But this time, it really WAS a party. My brothers and sister came over and we all stayed up until well after midnight to fit tiny firehoses into brackets and figure out how to put together front-end wheel assemblies for the remote control options. Truly, nothing says “I love you” like putting together 177 pieces of plastic in the middle of the night.

It was great. It was festive. It was togetherness. Although they don’t yet appreciate it, my boys were on the receiving end of a lot of love from their whole family that night. After a couple of years of doing Christmas mostly on our own, there was an amazing sense of joy and celebration just in getting together to play Santa for Benjamin and Liam. I absolutely loved it.

And, around 1:00, when I was picking up the last little cardboard pieces, making sure the instructions were squirreled away, and turning off the lights, I realized that back in Vienna, Christmas morning was already over. Had we been in Vienna, instead of in Maryland, we would have been already finished with opening most of the gifts, and we would be impatiently waiting to talk to our family back home, to wish them a Merry Christmas and to let the boys share their excitement over everything Santa had brought for them. And that always has been one of the hardest things about celebrating Christmas far away. The time difference is more noticeable on Christmas Day than any other day of the year, because when we want to be celebrating and sharing it together, everyone at home is still sleeping . . . and by the time they’ve all gotten together to have Christmas dinner, we’re already on our way to bed in Vienna.

So that moment, the camaraderie of an evening spent constructing toys and the anticipation of the Christmas morning still to come, was pretty magical. Even being in the same time zone as our family would have been special enough, but getting to actually be together to celebrate was the best thing I could have gotten for Christmas this year.

Lumberjacks

Posted on January 14, 2014 by admin

For many years, we had the habit of foregoing the Christmas tree lot and heading out to rural Maryland to select and cut down our Christmas tree. The habit started with my dad, who almost always gets his trees this way (you certainly can’t beat the freshness, but the hour or so home with the tree tied to the top of my little car — part of it on major highways — was always a bit of a harrowing adventure).

I think the last year we did it was Benjamin’s first Christmas. That particular year, instead of taking cute pictures of our little baby in front of his first Christmas tree at the tree farm, we ended up with a screaming, miserable wind-blown baby with whom I retreated to the cold car where then proceeded to accidentally bang his head on the car door (which wasn’t the fault of the location) and we spent a miserable hour waiting for Dan to choose and retrieve a tree on his own. (Note, the tree in the picture is not “our” tree. We posed this picture at the end so we would have something to show for our efforts . . . other than just the tree.) That corrected my romantic notions about tree-felling with tiny children, and afterwards, while still in the States, we relied on the local tree lots for our trees.

I still really like the idea of cutting down our own tree, though, and, had we stayed in the US, it would only have been a matter of a few years until we had most likely returned to our yearly familial trek to the countryside for a tree.

In Vienna, though, that hasn’t been an option for us. Without a car, finding a place to get a tree and (more importantly) getting it home would have required entirely too much effort. (Although I did recently see someone transport their tree by city bus, and there was a lady who checked in a tree as luggage at the airport, so maybe I just didn’t think hard enough about a solution.) So, since we’ve been in Vienna, we’ve satisfied ourselves with the super-convenient tree lot across the street from our apartment building.

This year, since we spent the holidays in Maryland, we didn’t get a tree for our apartment in Vienna at all. It was strange not to have one. Decorating, and then enjoying, a festive tree is one of my favorite parts of the Christmas season, and I don’t follow the Austrian tradition of getting one at the last minute. I always want to have as much time as possible to enjoy it before (and after) the holidays. But I couldn’t think of a way to really make it practical to have one this year, since we were gone for 2 weeks, and Christmas trees aren’t even available here until mid-December. So we didn’t get one of our own.

With our trip home this year including an arrival shortly before Christmas (late on Dec. 20), my mom had already gotten and beautifully decorated her tree. It was like magic for the boys when they saw it (I get my high standards for tree decorating from my mom, but she’s had more practice). They absolutely loved it — especially because it was their job to put the finishing touches on. I think *not* having one ourselves this year made it even more special to arrive at Grandma’s and to have one so beautiful to enjoy.

The boys really got the best of both worlds this year, though, because the day after our arrival we headed out to cut down a tree with my dad. Although Benjamin had technically been on such an adventure before, he had no memory of it, and Liam had never been. We were so fortunate to have amazing (if not very Christmassy) weather for it — we didn’t even need our coats!

It was so much fun to watch the boys rush off to find and inspect trees. Liam nominated the very first one that we saw. They chose big ones and small ones, of several different types. (They had a strong preference for “soft” ones that they could touch or hug without getting hurt.) After a bit of dashing about, nominating trees, and befriending a little boy they met (they were simply FASCINATED that he could speak English!), with Grandpa’s, Sam’s, Margie’s and Adam’s help, we finally chose “the tree” for Grandpa’s house this year. The kids were thrilled.

And then, to top it off, Benjamin actually got to get down on the ground and help Grandpa with the saw. He cut down his very first tree! And then, he was so proud that he pretty much pushed Uncle Adam aside when it was time to carry the tree back to the cashier. Both boys were so proud to be able to help.

And so, the boys got to play lumberjack, and they got to take part in a piece of Christmas tradition I’d been wanting them to experience. I suspect that in the years to come, whatever we decide to do in terms of acquiring our own tree, going and hunting down a tree with Grandpa is doing to remain high on their list of favorite Christmas traditions. (I don’t think that true December weather will even dampen their enthusiasm at all!)

Our journey home (for the holidays)

Posted on January 13, 2014 by admin

I was a little apprehensive, after a year and a half of only relatively short flights with the kids, about our very long trips home and back across the Atlantic. Circumstance (and winter weather) meant delays — long hours waiting on the plane or at the airport — which didn’t make it any easier. Even so, I was pleasantly surprised at how well we all fared on our journey.

Before we even got underway on our trip to the US, we saw something at the Vienna airport that I’d never seen before (and wouldn’t even have thought possible). While we were waiting in line to check our stroller at the oversize luggage line (we opted to check the stroller at check-in, since the boys were riding their Trunkis) we saw that the woman ahead of us was waiting to drop off … a Christmas tree! Surely, you can’t check a Christmas tree as luggage?!? But apparently, you can, because that’s just what she did. The luggage guy did look a bit surprised, but he checked that it was tagged with a destination and accepted it. Amazing! Although I wish I had a) taken a picture, b) found out the destination (wouldn’t there be import restrictions on trees?) and c) been able to see how well it came out at the other end!

The first leg of our flight was delayed due to the inbound flight from Paris being delayed before departure, and then further delayed (once we were on board) due to de-icing. All of which resulted in an eventual dash through Charles de Gaulle once we landed in order to make our connection. I was quite certain our bags wouldn’t move as quickly as we had and that we would arrive in Washington without them.

Not to worry, though, because even after the lengthy boarding process for our plane, there was, evidently, a chip of paint off of the rudder which had to be inspected prior to departure, which resulted in us sitting on the plane, but not moving, for almost 2 hours.

Although that’s always a bummer (although not as much of a bummer as it would be to fly in a plane that wasn’t working properly) we were stuck on the A380 with Air France and, as it turns out, it’s about the best plane it is possible to be stuck on.

Not only is the plane itself incomparably cool (it’s a double-decker with a spiral staircase in back, and each seat has its own on-demand entertainment system) but Air France made it as comfortable as possible by handing out the headphones early and providing snacks. We had games to play and movies and TV shows to watch PLUS we could have charged our iPhones and iPad at our seat if we’d needed to — all of which was a recipe for happy kids (and thus, happy parents) during the delay.

Once we got on our way, flying on the A380 was a little weird. It’s so big that rolling down the runway for takeoff, it felt impossible that we would ever get going fast enough to get off the ground. And then, when it was finally flying, it was surprisingly quiet for something so big.

The trip went very well, and the kids were great. Any worry I had about how they would do was unwarranted. They were amazingly patient, got along well together, and behaved beautifully. Liam had a bit of a crying spell after waking up from a nap (actually, he woke up because we were landing and had to be moved out of Dan’s lap, where he was quite comfortable, into his own seat, which he objected to), but I could hardly blame him for that. (After all, he’s *3* and he just accomplished his 6th and 7th intercontinental journeys. Pretty impressive, really.) In the days leading up to the trip, we gave the kids 3 rules for flying. We’ve said similar things before, but never quite so simply. 1. Whenever the seatbelt sign is on, you have to wear your seatbelt. No exceptions. 2. No kicking the back of the seat in front of you. 3. No yelling. That was it. We reminded them of these rules often in the week before the trip, and it really seemed to do the trick — all we had to do was remind them of the “airplane rules” and they remembered. (Must not forget that for future trips . . . )

The flight was long, and the delays at the beginning took their toll on all of our patience in the last few hours. We had a good journey, though, helped by comfy accommodations, the fascination the kids had with the in-flight moving map display (did you know the outside air temperature at 39,000 feet is -86 F?), lots of electronic entertainment, a few coloring books and stories and many trips up and down the spiral staircase. It was a really pleasant flight. (And I would definitely recommend everything about flying Air France — I wish we’d tried it sooner.)

After a LONG day of travel (over 18 hours, counting the delays and the car travel) and a seemingly endless line at Customs, we were reunited with our family, many of whom we had not seen in over a year and a half. It made every moment in the air more than worth it. It was so very good to see them, and so good to be home for the holidays.

A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Posted on December 19, 2013 by admin

Tomorrow we’re off to the States for two weeks to spend the holiday with family (and hopefully some friends, too, if the schedule allows). I am beyond excited to see my family tomorrow — some of whom I haven’t seen in almost a year and a half.

My plan is to take a break from writing, from the Internet, from posting pictures until we return to Austria in the new year. So I’ll say Merry Christmas now, and wish everyone a beautiful season full of wonder and a new year of hope and excitement.

See you in 2014 for more adventures!

Transatlantic

Posted on December 17, 2013 by admin

It’s been a while since we’ve done this. We travel a good bit as a family — in the past year we’ve taken the train to go skiing in the Alps and then the overnight train to Rome, flown to Paris and to the UK and Ireland, and driven to Salzburg and back. The kids are seasoned travelers, and we’re experience travel-parents. We’ve got a lot of miles under our collective belts.

But … we haven’t done this in a while. We haven’t done the 9+ hours transatlantic flight in almost a year and a half, we’ve never done it with a 5 year old and a 3 year old, and we’ve never done it at Christmas. Liam doesn’t even remember the last time we made this trip. With all of my experience with this kind of thing, I’m surprised, but I feel a little unprepared. I feel like I’ve forgotten how to do it.

What do I need in carry-on? What do I need to be prepared for? What do I need to tell the kids to prepare them? How is it going to go? Will they behave/sleep/scream/throw food/refuse to use the airplane toilet? The wiser part of my mind tells me it will be what it will be and that this is one of the (many) experiences in parenting that I cannot truly control. My experience tells me that this trip, like all of the others, will include good and bad elements, and that as long as we arrive safe & sound, all will be well and the less pleasant details of the journey will drift into the corners of my memory. But still, I feel a little nervous.

But even with the nervousness, I also feel excited. Not only are we flying home to see family and friends, but whatever happens, however it goes, I get to spend 9+ hours with my kids, with nothing else that we have to do. Sure, it might end up being a grueling trip, but we get to be together. With the boys in school now, a chance to be with them — to color and talk and read and watch videos, without having to think about running errands or keeping on our schedule — is pretty rare, and pretty exciting.

I’ve also discovered, in preparing for this trip, that packing for a Christmas trip is really a whole different undertaking than packing for a typical 2 week trip. I set about doing most of the packing this morning — getting the clothes together, figuring out which luggage will work best, making piles of laundry still to be done. After getting about 90% of our clothes packed into the suitcases (the rest is still to be washed), I felt quite accomplished. For a normal trip, that’s the vast majority of the work. I was feeling pretty proud about having most of the work done on Tuesday for a trip that doesn’t happen until Friday! And then, I started adding in the Christmas stuff. The stockings, the presents, the treats and sweets. And, oh my, did that ever increase the complexity of the situation. So many of the Christmas things need to be packed “just so” in order to arrive safely. Each item I tried to add to the clothes and accessories already packed required nearly unpacking the suitcase to get everything back in. And I”m not nearly done yet. I’ve probably only packed half of the gifts. Yikes.

The moral of the story is that instead of insisting on bringing truly Austrian things home for everyone for Christmas this year, I should have opted for mail-order. And, for the first time in a while, I feel almost like a rookie traveller again . . . or at least list an uncertain one. I know it will all work though, it always does. That’s the miracle of the last-minute trip preparation, and the miracle of Christmas preparation. With both of them on my side, everything is bound to come together.

Trattbergalm

Posted on October 30, 2013 by admin

For our last full day in the Alps south of Salzburg, we decided to drive up a mountain close to the farm where we were staying. Twice before, we’ve stayed at this farm, and each time, we’ve attempted to drive up this mountain. Both times before, we were thwarted by snow.

The first time (last October), what was a gentle drizzle at the farm became an icy mess and furious flurries with seriously obscured visibility as we made our way almost to the top. The second time (late last March), the road was simply impassable due to heavy amounts of snow. But, the third time is theoretically the charm, so we decided to try again. The weather was relatively warm (nearly 60 at the farm — closer to 40 at the top) and although there had been snow several days before, the forecast was for clear skies. We went to the grocery store, selected picnic items, and set off.

Unlike our previous attempts, this time the visibility was good, and we got to enjoy the view. Every time we go up into the Alps, I’m amazed by the vastness of the expanse of peaks we can see marching off into the distance — although the valleys in between are cozy, with tiny towns, the mountains are jagged and gray and, even in mid-October, mostly snow covered. They are intimidating, they are wild, and we were driving up the side of one of them.

In addition to a criss-cross of stone, wood and wire fencing used to section off cattle who graze up here in the summer, Trattbergalm has lots of hiking/cross country skiing trails (all marked as “moderate” or “significant” challenges — in other words, not for hiking with the kids), several parking areas, and even a few mountain hut restaurants. We found a parking area with a scenic spot nearby (with extra credit for the fences situated between us and the edge) and enjoyed our picnic overlooking a stretch of the central Austrian Alps.

On our way back to the car, we were intrigued by a large-ish, furry looking, black and white shape coming down from the peak behind a couple of hikers. Was it a dog? It looked too big. Was it a cow? It moved pretty quickly for a cow on the kind of slope, and besides, they would have all gone back down to their valley or mountainside farms at the end of the summer. Honestly, I was thinking it was a pony or maybe a small donkey, until it came farther down the slope and we saw that it was a (for real) mountain goat, with a black front half, a white back half and massive horns.

After watching it descend the hill and wander towards the parking lot, we retreated to the car, but kept watching. (None of my many pictures came out very well — I felt like I was trying to photograph the Loch Ness Monster.) It wandered around the parking area for a bit, and then walked off down the road. According to the hikers we saw coming down with it, they had climbed to the top of the mountain, and started back down when they suddenly realized there was this sizable goat following right behind them. (That must have been pretty nerve-wracking!)

After a bit, and a short way (away from the goat), we got back in the car and drove on (after the goat) and eventually came to end of the road. We parked again and followed the path (and some signs) to a mountain restaurant where we enjoyed mugs of hot chocolate while the kids played on the playground and washed their hands in mountain spring water. It had gotten quite chilly as the sun set behind the peak, and we soon headed back to the car to warm up.

We had a great day — and I’m glad we finally made it up the mountain as far as we could drive. So many of the things we’ve seen on these adventures seem so perfect, so lovely and exactly what we’d wish to see, that it’s hard to remember at times that they aren’t just a put on for the tourists. The mountain goat, the Alpine view, the hot chocolate from the hut at the top of the snow-dotted mountain, the fresh mountain spring, the cattle grids for the cows that spend the hot summers on the top of the cool mountain … that’s just how it is there. You start to wonder if there isn’t someone in the background saying, “Cue the goat!”, but it’s really just life in this part of the world. We just happened to visit and get to enjoy it on a (relatively) warm Monday in October.

On the way back to the farm, we drove through a tiny town whose church bells were ringing the hour and past a pair of deer grazing along the side of the road without concern, neither of which did anything to erase the impression of too-perfectness. But that’s how it was. Just almost too perfect, and a wonderful end to this adventure in the mountains.

City mice

Posted on October 29, 2013 by admin

When I was little, I spent a few years living in the country. And for my entire childhood (as best as I remember) I was happy to play in the dirt, walk barefoot in the grass, roll down hillsides, jump in leaf piles and splash in muddy puddles. I don’t know if those early years living in the country set me on the path of being comfortable with nature, or if that was just always who I was going to be. Certainly, as the years went on and I became completely enamored of and quite involved in the world of horses, I became even more comfortable with all of the things that outdoor life includes — dirt, bugs, heat, cold, splinters, mosquito bites, an occasional wild animal, and a rare but real need to be capable of some level of first aid and crisis management.

In my vision of life as a parent, I always imagined my kids would be like me. Dirt, bugs, weather, outdoors — no problem.

Not so.

Although I’ve done so far (I think) an amazing job of raising kids who are great travelers, have open minds, and who really know how to roll with it when things don’t go according to plan, they are, in different degrees, not so much down with “nature”. Don’t get me wrong — they like playing outside and generally being outdoors, but only as long as there is not too much dirt, too many animals (wild or domesticated, but dogs are ok) or pretty much any bugs at all.

I think it’s all the city living. Sure, we VISIT the countryside — we hike, and play, and stay on working farms — but we come back to our attic apartment in the chic downtown of one of the cleanest, nicest and safest cities I’ve ever seen. While at home in the US, there would have been trips to the barn to visit the horses, pumpkin patches in the fall and berry picking in the spring, outdoor swimming pools, camping trips and even just visits to Grandpa’s house (which has a yard and a very cool tire swing), here there is none of that. Pumpkins and Christmas trees have been picked and cut before we buy them, the swimming pools are indoors, horses pull carriages and are not to be touched, and camping is something we do in our living room.

This most recent trip to Sankt Koloman reminded me of how much my boys are “city mice”. The farm we stayed on is a working organic farm. They have cats (including a kitten who was a big hit with the kids), rabbits, chickens (Benjamin collected the eggs for our breakfast one day), goat and cows. Both boys were intrigued by the animals (watching the cows get milked was the highlight of Benjamin’s trip, and Liam keeps asking where the kitten is) but they were not fond of the mud on their boots nor the inevitable bees and flies that come from being in the country in nice weather.

I suspect this will change on its own after we go back to the US. Before we left, our lives in the States included experiencing a lot more of nature, more regularly, than we do now. I imagine it will again. I really hope my boys will learn that the bees and bugs and dirt are all a small price to pay for the joy of being outdoors. Really, I know they will — and I suspect that in a few years, when I’m pulling dead beetles out of the lint filter on the dryer, I’ll laugh at myself for ever thinking that they might not.

Hallstatt

Posted on October 28, 2013 by admin

After our chaotic first day of our most recent trip to the Salzburg area, I was really looking forward to doing something fun. Our plan for the second day was to visit Hallstatt, a tiny, ancient town in the Salzkammergut.

Golling, on the way to Hallstatt from Sankt Koloman

Hallstatt has been on my list of places to visit since we first began to even consider a move to Austria. One of the first things we did when we started pondering our relocation was to watch Rick Steves’ program about Austria. That first information inspired many of our early explorations here (including our bike trip along the Danube last year). I came away truly charmed by the idea of Hallstatt, and I knew we’d want to go while we were here. So far, it was the last remaining place on that first list we made of places to see, and it was actually the main inspiration behind this particular weekend away. I didn’t want to risk NOT seeing it while we live in Austria, especially since I’ve truly been looking forward to it from the beginning.

It lived up to every expectation.

We were in the mountains, to be sure. It was several degrees colder when we got out of the car than it had been when we got in, and the height of the peaks, coupled with the already decreasing height of the sun’s arc through the sky meant that the sun set and rose again several times during our visit.

We started (as we so often do) with a stop in the playground in the neighboring town of Lahn. Vehicular traffic is severely limited within Hallstatt, so you have to park in the next town over and walk. Along the way, we were greeted by swans, and we were completely charmed by our lakeside stroll to a town that looks more genuinely “Austrian” than any we’ve seen.

It’s not hard to believe that Hallstatt has been there a long time. As Rick Steves points out, “There was a Hallstatt before there was a Rome”, although train service there didn’t begin until the late 1800s. The labyrinth of winding, narrow streets, lined by gabled roofs and wooden-shuttered windows fronted by flower boxes full of pink, purple, white and red, and nearly absent of cars, made us feel like we’d stepped into another time. Walking along the lake edge (there are only two streets that really cut lengthwise through the town — one along the lake, one up on the hillside) we were followed by hopeful swans, and we ended up in the main square, which was probably the most picturesque we’ve found in all of our travels.

I absolutely loved Hallstatt. I loved the smell of the wood smoke, the gurgle of the waterfall the falls from the mountaintop behind the town, the rush of the crystal clear streams that rush through the town (and beneath many of the houses). We spent a beautiful day there. I’m so glad we went.

We ended our day at the docks, looking back over the town and dangling our (booted) feet in the water (trying to convince the ducks and swans that our rubber boots were not good to eat). The moon rose over the mountain, and it got very chilly as the autumn evening fell, but it was perfect, beautiful and peaceful in Hallstatt. (Of course, my phone ran out of battery about halfway through the day, so I don’t have nearly as many pictures as I’d like. That’s ok. I don’t think I’ll forget.)

A Mommy Abroad

Our big adventure, as a family of three.

Category Archives: Destinations