Advent in Grafenegg Castle

An overcast, rainy day in Vienna.

About 2 this afternoon we took off for Grafenegg Castle, about 45 highway minutes away from Vienna. Each year around this time the Austrians go apeshit for Christmas. Every monastery, town square, or whatever sets up Christmas markets and Grafenegg Castle is no exception. Vendors from around Austria hawk their food products and handcrafted Christmas decorations. All over the castle grounds there are stands where you can get smoked meat, cheeses, alcohol of various kinds, Christmas baubles, etc. One stand sold hats and scarves made from llama wool.

There were little tables set up with umbrellas, where you could sip your mulled wine or Punsch, a warm hearty concoction of (I think) apple cider and whiskey and spices. Good stuff on a rainy afternoon! They'd set up little firepits filled with burning logs where you could warm your ass or hands. We grabbed a couple of smoked Roedeer sausages and munched them as we walked along.

Stuff was going on in the castle, too, so we crossed the grounds and then walked over the bridge spanning the (empty) moat. I would have hated trying to invade such a fortified place in the days before cannons. In the days after cannons, I would have hated trying to defend the castle. No need to swim a moat and get arrows shot into your ass when you can just sit back and bombard the shit out of someone, no?

There were more Puntsch stands in the castle courtyard so we shared a cup, then walked inside. There were three full floors of Christmas-market madness, but I have to say some of the stuff was interesting even to me...there were some great handcrafted wooden Christmas decorations, fine woolen clothing, and glasswork.

Most fascinating to me was the handcrafted paper, made from rags (not wood.) A lady gave a little demonstration, first by showing us a book of photos of their main manufacturing facility. Small bits of rags are put into a grinder then mixed with hot water and swirled around for 30 – 40 hours. This results in a milky white pulpy soup-looking concoction.

She had a small batch of this on hand, so the demonstration continued with the lady ladling the concoction onto a square screen. At the bottom of the screen, in reverse, was the name of the paper making company. The water drains through the screen leaving only the rag pulp, which she then pressed to squeeze any extra water out. You could see their name embossed at the bottom of the paper. They let this dry for a few days and voila, high-quality rag paper! Expensive, but beautiful.

The third floor of the castle was the most spectacular. Every room was panelled in dark wood, the ceilings were elaborate with chandeliers and carvings and inlays, and there were beautiful old large ceramic fireplaces in the corner of each room.

So we finished looking at all the stuff for sale and then walked back into the courtyard and from there into the ancient cellar, where they'd set up a temporary buffet. We had soup and apple juice. Nothing like good hot soup on a cold rainy day.

By then it was dark so we strolled back over the grounds to the car, stopping on the way to buy some (overpriced but delicious) cherry schnapps.

45 minutes down a pitch-black rainy highway to Vienna, then home.

P = 5
S = 1





CEILING CORNER DETAIL 

INTERIOR OF ANCIENT CASTLE CELLAR

LEFT TO RIGHT: HEMP NOODLES, OVERPRICED SCHNAPPS, HEMP BEER

Your chance to be Freud

For some reason I dream a lot more in Vienna. More dreams, stranger, and more memorable.

A weird one from last night: I was somewhere in Missouri. A house in a rural area. I was there to meet my friend Skip G, who lives in St. Louis but in the dream he was living in the sticks. We were going to go for a drive, but each of us driving our own car. VW Beetles, as it turns out. The old kind, not the new one.

So I knocked on his door, then went back to my car and started it. While waiting for him to come out I noticed an iguana walking back and forth parallel to the side of his car. Then suddenly I noticed Skip, who had crawled under his car. In real life this is impossible, because Skip is a giant of a man and not even an anorexic girl could fit under a Bug. Anyhow, Skip was laying on his side. I was about to ask him WTF when I noticed him firing a stream of urine from beneath the car, about fifteen feet out, directly into the path of the pacing iguana---who walked right into the stream but kept going, seemingly oblivious. (Another thing that would never happen in real life, because no man in his late 50s can fire a stream of piss fifteen feet. Your range and pressure decreases significantly after the age of 10.)

I kept hearing a kitten meowing, even over the sound of the engine, and I wondered where the sound was coming from but it was time to go, the ritual with the iguana having reached its logical (?) conclusion. So I took off down a gravel road, looking from time to time in my rear view mirror for Skip's car. Finally I noticed it, maybe a quarter of a mile behind me.

The meowing continued and it suddenly dawned on me that the kitten was probably in the car somewhere. I was just about to pull over and find the kitten when I woke up.

I've had some weird dreams before, but never one in which a guy ambushes an iguana with a stream of high-pressure piss from beneath a car.

You figure it out, Freud. I can't.