Two Slices of Cake and an Imperial Pee

We had a very slow, sleepy morning. Neither Zak nor I got out of bed until around 11-- and then we wandered over to the nearby bakery and produce shop to buy lunch. We ate a quiet lunch of fruit and crusty, olive-bread in the hostel courtyard.

After that, we repented for our sleepy morning by walking, pretty much continuously, from noon until ten o'clock at night. We walked around the grounds of the Hofberg Palace, the primary residence of the Hapsburgs, the imperial rulers of most of Europe, for several centuries. It is really quite awesome-- just massive.

I remember Mr. Meckna-- 11th grade, AP European History-- telling me that there are living Hapsburg heirs today. I remember thinking that it seemed like a pretty rough break to be born into the family that used to run the Holy Roman Empire. Now, having seen a few of their former digs, my sympathy for these poor schlemiels has monumentally increased.

Afterwards we walked through the Vienna Jewish Museum. he main exhibit covers the history of Viennenese Jewry through holograms-- that was very strange. Much cooler, and much sadder, were the open store-rooms in which one can view piles of ritual items of all types saved from the Kristallnacht destruction of Vienna's synagogues.

Lunch was a slice of cake at Demel's-- founded in the 1740s as the confectioner to the Imperial Court. The cake has a blend of nutty chocolate cream with orange liqueour, complimented with an excellent cup of coffee. Vienna is full of beatiful art and architecture-- but more than anything, I am coming to love this city for its cake.

Another highlight of the afternoon was a stop at the Hotel Imperial. One of the lovely traditions passed down to me by my Mother is a love of peeing at the great hotels of the world. I'm not sure the origins of this particular tradition-- but, I have faithfully peed at the Plaza in New York, the Sir Francis Drake in San Francisco, and many others. I have a list somewhere. Now, I can add the Hotel Imperial in Vienna. Score!

After an awful salad at an American sports bar full of drunken Scotsmen in impressive kilts, we decided that we needed yet another piece of cake. Another slice of Sacher torte at the Hotel Sachar was wonderful. I can imagine this becoming a place of pilgrammage.

I have 30 more seconds of Internet before I have to pay again, so I will sign off for now. Tomorrow, we go to Budapest, so my next entry will be from a new place.