Potato Europe

The problem with setting a goal like “blog once a week” is that I was not joking when I said time is imaginary to me at this point. I read somewhere that the reason the trip home always feels shorter is because your brain takes longer to process more new information, so when you don’t have to learn and assess the route, it feels faster. The more information to process, the longer time feels. I can’t confirm or deny the validity of this, but it makes sense and confirms my imaginary time hypothesis given that I’ve been in three different countries since my last post.

I am also missing a free church concert for this, which I feel faintly bad about but this cafe/bar/bookshop/design store is very cute and provided me with a generous glass of wine that I didn’t want to waste. And I had blogging guilt. For you, parents and occasional other person who stumbles here via tags.

We’ve officially crossed the border from wine/tomato Europe to beer/potato Europe I think, but Italian food certainly hasn’t disappeared though I haven’t caved and purchased any yet. Too busy on my unending quest for sushi. Not that I don’t miss having pasta at every meal, but I can substitute with dumplings now.

Since leaving Italy, we’ve breezed briefly through Slovenia and are now in Vienna. Slovenia is lovely; Ljubljana is sort of like if Austin, TX, were up in the mountains and had more castles, churches, Alpine houses, and British gap years. And a river to drink along. Very different landscape, similar vibe. I shamefully love a good trendy vegetarian restaurant because I cannot eat local for every meal, as much weird travel guilt as I feel about that, and they delivered on that front. Lake Bled, despite its ominous name, is not haunted (that we noticed) and in fact very pleasant to swim and paddleboard in. It rained every day we were in the country, which was mostly manageable though did at one point lead to our getting stranded in a train station bar with middle-aged Slovenian men during their post-work happy hour time, much to their confusion and ours. Who knew one should not hike to a gorge with an oncoming storm. We never did make it out there but we did see the castle and church island which I feel mostly counts for the town attractions.

We are now in Vienna, eating Sacher torte, drinking kaiserspritzen, and being casually assaulted by men in fluffy wigs and vests asking if we want to see a concert at every turn. Still have not determined if they are legit or tourist pickers but I suppose when in Vienna, Mozart must be heard, so we’ll probably cave eventually.


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