Salzburg Reminds Me of Catholic School

Salzburg was the first stop on my journey out of London. I stayed at Institut St. Sebastian that in a former life was either a mental hospital or a convent. It's claim to fame seems to be that Mozart's mother is buried in the cemetery on its grounds. Regardless of what it once was, it reminded me of my days in Catholic school, the only difference... there were no nuns to threaten me with demerits!

The architecture of the Church and Catholic School I grew up in was what one might term "wanna-be Baroque." And actually, the Church itself succeeded in representing the best "Baroque" architecture Dallas money could buy. However, the interior decor of the school, where the nuns kind of ran the show, had this post-Vatican II feel to it... that spartan, 70's look, that only a nostalgic graduate of American Catholic schools could love. Picture priests and nuns singing "Kumbaya" in Birkenstocks with flowers in their hair, but in the early 90s... and also not really being as lenient as they seemed since they still dished out corporal and mental punishments at the slightest infraction.

I must admit I was really surprised to find this post-Vatican II vibe and decor in an "ancient" European institution. But since my Catholic School was mostly run by what seemed to be Eastern European religious, maybe there's some connection there, I don't know.

My couple of days in Salzburg were peaceful, full, but not hectic. Just in case any of you ever visit Salzburg, I'll share some of the highlights of my visit.

The first day:
- I walked around the city crisscrossing the Getreidegasse.
- Hiked up to Hohensalzburg Fortress, and also to the opposite side of the city where one can find some outdoor places to pray (don't know what to call these, outdoor chapels?)
- Salzburg has great bike paths all across the city, so I rented a city bike for a couple hours, which cost me 1 euro.
- I had a beer at the Augustiner Bräustübl in the evening... for such a small, quiet city, it was pretty packed.

The next day:
- I went to mass at the St Sebastian Church.
- Took a cruise on the Salzach river, the city is beautiful from this perspective, but I have to say that the boat was not so great. I could hardly see or hear anything.
- Skipped Mozarthaus museum, and The Sound of Music Tour and just did a bit more hiking. Did I mention that Salzburg was totally meant for hiking and meditating? Greg would have envied all the stairs I climbed this weekend! (tho' I regret not doing the SOMT. I hear it's great. I guess I'll catch it on my next visit.)

Overall, I found Salzburg to be a somewhat spiritual experience for me, and this was totally unexpected. It made me yearn for the days when as a young girl, I would fantasize about joining the convent like Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz. And like her, this would be my ticket to read books all day and hold a literary salon in the evenings. Since then, my career has taken on a much more morally compromising path... now that I'm part of the "liberal media" but it's nice to be reminded that I was once a sweet, nunny girl with religious/intellectual ambitions.

How London Rates as a Boyfriend

I am notoriously famous amongst my friends for promising to actively publish a blog during my travels, and not doing it. Three years into traveling the world, I am finally getting around to it! (Remember my one entry when I went to India? Yeah, I promise to do better this time.)

Currently, I am a resident of London. But two weeks ago I decided to leave London for the summer, just for the hell of it. (And I was getting bored.)

Don’t get me wrong. I really care about London. It’s energetic. It has a really cool accent. It dances to its own bangra/punk beat. It dresses in well-tailored suits, with just a hint of vibrant, neon funkiness in its suit pocket. It always looks put-together, even when its streets are dirty and it hasn’t showered after a raunchy row-filled night out.

London is the macho-but-sensitive boyfriend I should marry, but never will because it is not “bad-boy” or “exotic” enough. It drinks too much beer, talks too much about the weather, and buys good bottles of wine with twist-caps. We speak the same language. The relationship wouldn’t have enough drama for me.

Despite my ranting, I will get back together with London late this summer. I am obliged too. HRH’s government has kindly done right by me, and granted me a three-year “highly skilled worker” visa. While all the other “boyfriends” (France) just want to live with me, in the UK I at least have engagement status, so to speak. I just need the summer to sow my oats.

I happen to be traveling at the moment, but I hope that this blog will be a vehicle for all my other musings in life too. For now the theme of my blog is “keeping it real.” I considered “Wander Woman” but it is taken. I also thought “The Expat Life” would be good, but I’ve sort of been an expat all my life.

Whether I like to admit it or not, those who love me and know me well are well aware that “keeping it real” is the theme song of my life (along with a little booty-shaking Brazilian music.) I tell people to “get real” all the time. Guys date me because I‘m “real”. I like to watch reality shows, like Come Dine with Me and Anthony Bourdain No Reservations. I am known to show up to a posh dinner party with mac ‘n’ cheese and turn it into a potluck. I just like keeping it real like that.