Yet Another Good Walk Unspoiled

B's friend Margit came over today. Then we drove up into the vineyards adjacent to this part of Vienna, parked the car, and took a nice hike.

While Vienna itself has been cold, with gray skies, I haven't seen much in the way of ice or frost or snow. However, in the vineyards, perhaps just a mile or so as the crow flies, fog had created exquisite needle-like frost formations on the trees, thus:

If you click on the pic to enlarge it, you'll see the thousands of cactus-like needles, so delicate that the slightest touch causes them to fall from the branch. They aren't sharp at all, but look like they'd slice you to ribbons.

There were a lot of people with the same idea---a Sunday afternoon hike---and a few bold souls were riding their bikes along the snowy trails.

Aside from the muffled quiet of a walk through the woods, another reward waited for people who made it this far: a good glass of wine or some roasted chestnuts from some guys who had set up this stand.

People took a little break to stand around sipping their wine or punch from wine-barrel tables.

I shot this pic at the start of our hike, and when we'd come around full circle the place was twice as crowded. We stopped and shared a cup of hot spiced wine...

Some folks had their dogs with them. Dogs in Austria seem very well behaved. I don't know what the difference is---maybe they just get out among strangers a lot more often, but one doesn't encounter nearly as many yapping mutts here.

And maybe it's just that you're meeting them on neutral territory, instead of at their place, where they're naturally inclined to feel more protective. I dunno.

It wasn't nearly as cold as this shot suggests:

Christbaum

Here's a shot of B's Christmas tree.

I don't know enough about trees to tell you the exact variety here, but obviously it's different than the sort we typically use in America. For one thing, it's real. For another, it's not as bushy (for lack of a better word) as what we generally have.

But probably the biggest difference is the use of real candles on the tree. Obviously one has to take appropriate safety precautions, but the effect is very warm and pleasant---and believe it or not, this many small candles can warm a room noticeably in just a short time.

Since my mom died, Christmas hasn't meant very much to me. She was the engine behind our family's Christmas celebrations, and they kind of just...vanished with her.

It's nice to get some of that good holiday feeling again. When people take the time to select a tree, bring it home, haul it up three flights of stairs, decorate it, etc. etc., it means they haven't lost what I've lost.

Unlike Golf, We Had A Good Walk NOT Spoiled

The title of the post refers to someone's famous definition of golf as "A good walk spoiled."

You can tell it's an ancient definition, because if I ever saw a golfer actually WALK the course, I think I'd have a heart attack. Not to mention the fact that THEY would have a heart attack from the expenditure of effort. These days they drive around in golf carts, swilling hootch.

But fuck that and them, because B and I had a great walk here, through the neighborhood.

Her neighborhood is filled with Heurige...wine taverns. Many were closed, however, and I noticed the traffic through the neighborhood was almost non-existent, very unusual for a Saturday night.

It was dark and still and very quiet, and the orange glow of the street lights on the wet pavement made everything extra surreal-seeming. We found one Heuriger that was open, but for a private party only...people had already gathered, some of them in an inner patio, huddled around a fire, smiling and drinking mulled wine.

However, we found another Heuriger just a block or so away and sat among the locals enjoying our drinks, B a nice house white and me a Glühwein, which comes in a coffee cup. It's heated red wine with a teabag containing spices. Good stuff for a winter night walk through the 'hood...

We wandered around a bit more, making our way to Fidelio. There I had a fantastic Parmesan Prosciutto Creme soup. Un.Be.Lievable! B had a broth, and the waitress treated us afterwards to a pear liquor aperitif. On the house.

Beethoven lived around here. This neighborhood is very old, and in fact was once a separate village, Nussdorf, which later got incorporated into Vienna. It's the place I'm most familiar with in Vienna, a place I walk almost every day. I have a little ritual on weekdays, walking down to the bakery for some bread, to the Trafik for B's daily newspaper or a pack of smokes, then back again...past the pensioners walking their dogs, past the little kids on the way to school, past the frantic drivers zipping through the narrow cobblestone streets on their way to some nameless nothing.

Back at the house, we ate the spinach quiche B had prepared earlier. I slept, still carrying the residual effects of the sleeping pills and the booze, I guess. Time gets out of whack, me brothers and sisters, but that's what happens when you transport yourself Elsewhere.