they abound, they abound

Just got back from Wien. It was magical! It was gorgeous! It was snowing! (You can't tell from the pictures, because when the first few snowflakes hit, I dutifully tucked my camera away.)

• The Sachertorte: like mainlining chocolate.
  
• Explaining ad nauseam: I work in Hungary, I'm from Canada, and I grew up in the Philippines.
  
• The Texans at the hostel (at least that's what they sounded like) who banged on my door at 3 in the morning. They were ignored.
  
• Being mistaken for an Indian by a Polish girl, and being mistaken for South Korean by an Indian boy. (See, I could maybe say something about cultural expectations and ethnocentric perspectives, but I just can't be bothered right now.)
  
• The Klimt (and the Kunstschau) exhibit! The Oberes Belvedere! I could've spent hours in there... oh, wait, I did. Klimt! Schiele! The Messerschmidt heads! That French guy who kept on following me around and trying to talk to me... not so much.
  
• Fried duck!
  
• Getting caught in icy rain as I searched for the Burgkapelle. (FAIL.)
  
• Glühwein in the cold. Like magic.
  
• Christmas markets!
  
• Spittle!
  
• My personal space getting invaded many, many times.
  
• @Wien!
  
• Trying to (awkwardly) dance to trippy lounge music and eventually giving up.
  
• The PGF curse. Twice makes it official, right?
  
• Frozen toes!
  
• The hobo at the Westbanhof who was exceptionally multilingual... maybe suspiciously so?
  
• Snow! And all the pretty!

And then there was that block of time when I swept through the city like a hobo in the dark in a series of failed attempts to avail myself of Wien's night bus network. I don't want to talk about it (the scars! the scars!), but it involved the following: two American girls (who were really nice! I kind of felt bad that I spent a portion of my night American-bashing, etc.); a McDonald's; three crazies; a kind soul who responded to my chattering "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" with ready aplomb; a Chinese couple (the female half of which was three sheets to the wind and all the worse for it... O, tiny Asians and alcohol...); frigid, frigid cold; and €10 lost... lost forever!

But, I don't want to talk about it.