Little Big City. A Sunday Trip to 1986

 

On Sunday morning we woke up before dawn to begin our international adventure. We ate breakfast, packed our things, and headed to the bus stop. While waiting there, we enjoyed a beautiful sunrise… accompanied by the rather dramatic coughing of a local gentleman who appeared to have spent the night on a nearby bench and whose lungs suggested a long-standing acquaintance with tuberculosis.

After some thorough pre-trip research, we had discovered that the main train station in Bratislava supposedly had several luggage storage options - lockers as well as a staffed baggage service. Because of this, we decided to bring our backpacks with us and leave them there for the day. The thought process was simple: if we happened to return to Vienna later than planned and needed to rush straight to the airport, at least we wouldn’t have to hunt down our bags first.

The train was already at the platform in Vienna a full half hour early. We picked our seats and settled in. One hour later we stepped off the train… and found ourselves transported to roughly the year 1986. That seemed to be the last time Bratislava’s railway station had received any kind of renovation or loving attention.

We searched enthusiastically for the promised luggage storage. And then we searched some more. Unfortunately, what didn’t exist could not be found. Accepting defeat, we put our backpacks back on and began walking toward the old town through the presidential garden.

The old town turned out to be small, charming, and pleasantly spacious, with wide streets and glorious sunshine. It felt like an entirely different world compared to the deep Soviet atmosphere that still lingered just a few steps outside the historic center.

Naturally, we climbed up to the castle, enjoying the sunshine, the exercise (don't forget - we were carrying our backpacks!), and the views over the city. After that we wandered back down into old town and stopped for a light lunch. Our cappuccinos arrived at the table being decorated by cheerful International Women’s Day greetings. The food sounded significantly more impressive on the menu than it eventually looked on the plate.

After lunch we continued exploring, including a visit to the local department store, which also appeared to have last seen a renovation sometime during the 1980s. Soon it was time to head back toward the train station.

The return train ride took about an hour again. This time we left our backpacks in Vienna’s train station lockers and went for another walk. Before heading back to the train station, we decided to stop at a café where we had originally planned to have brunch before the Bratislava idea appeared.

Well, we hadn’t made it to brunch - but now we were at least having a late afternoon snack. Helena ordered a beer and I had a grilled cheese appetizer. When it came time to pay, I confidently reached for my phone… only to hear the unexpected words: “cash only.”

This was a total WTF moment, because honestly - who even carries cash anymore? After some frantic digging through pockets and bags, we managed to assemble the required amount almost entirely in coins. At that moment I felt deeply grateful that we hadn’t actually made it there for brunch. Brunch would have cost significantly more and we might have ended up washing dishes in the back for the next two weeks.

In the end it became a proper time-travel experience — the 1980s greeted us at the Bratislava train station and the 1990s finished the job in Vienna with a proud “cash only” policy.

The flight home was pleasantly uneventful, and shortly after one in the morning we were safely back home again.

Vienna: the Sound of Elegance. Of cakes and culture

After quite a long break, Helena and I finally had a small city trip planned. On Thursday we flew to Vienna. The flights were perfectly on time and entirely uneventful – which, for aviation people, is often the highest compliment you can give a flight.

We arrived at the hotel, checked in quickly, and headed to our room. There we discovered that instead of a normal bathroom, the room featured a glass-walled shower corner, an open sink area, and the usual toilet. With mirrors everywhere, it was possible to observe the showering process from practically every imaginable angle. Oh well.

In the evening we went for a quick dinner at Vapiano, where the portion sizes were so generous that we ended up packing enough leftovers for several future meals. After a short walk around the neighborhood, we called it a night.

As usual, I had carefully mapped out the best bistros in the city and had already made brunch reservations. Our agreement for the trip was simple: Helena would take care of culture, and I would take care of the food.

Friday’s brunch was excellent. From there we walked to Belvedere Palace and spent a couple of hours surrounded by art. After absorbing our cultural quota for the day, we moved on to Kaiserschmarrn for me and a grilled cheese sandwich for Helena. Thanks to thorough pre-trip research, the place was perfect and we left very satisfied.

Fully loaded with carbs, we wandered over to the cathedral. Without much thought, we decided to climb the 343-step spiral staircase with no intermediate landings. Slightly breathless but victorious, we enjoyed beautiful views over Vienna.

We took the metro back to the hotel, stopped in a few shops along the way, relaxed for a while, and later headed out again for coffee at Starbucks.

Saturday began with breakfast at Erich, where my breakfast platter could probably have fed a small village somewhere in Africa. They also served an excellent espresso with tonic and orange – a refreshing combination I had missed since they removed it from Starbucks' menu.

The plan for the day included sightseeing, the Ferris wheel, and schnitzel. We wandered through the old town, took photos, and enjoyed the perfect weather. At one point we fell into a classic tourist trap café that promised an amazing “Floral Cappuccino.” What we received instead was a pink, Instagram-ready foam drink. What we did not receive was cappuccino. The cup, decorated with a dried marshmallow rim, contained lukewarm milk with a faint suggestion of coffee.

Moving on quickly, we headed to the famous Vienna Ferris wheel, where we once again enjoyed lovely views over the city.

After that it was finally time for schnitzel. We went to a restaurant reputed to serve authentic Wiener Schnitzel. There was only one other table occupied in the entire dining room, which did not seem particularly promising. But when we started hearing the unmistakable sound of meat being pounded in the kitchen, we knew at least the food would be freshly prepared.

The schnitzel turned out to be absolutely perfect – crispy, golden, and everything it should be. Helena’s crispy potatoes and sesame chicken were excellent as well.

We made a quick stop back at the hotel to rest before heading out again in the evening. Helena had requested Sacher cake, and we agreed the proper place to eat it would be Café Sacher. Apparently every tourist in Vienna had come to the same conclusion. After about 20 minutes in line, we were rewarded with the best possible table – a large booth upstairs right by the window.

Helena ordered the famous Sachertorte, and I went with apple strudel. Both were fingerlicking delicious. Afterward we walked past the opera house before heading back to the hotel.

At some point during the day we had realized that Sunday in the German-speaking world tends to be so quiet that even the birds appear to take the day off. So we decided to do something different: visit a neighboring country instead.

We bought train tickets to Bratislava and set our alarms for six in the morning.

Go Blue. A trip we didn't plan

On Sunday morning we received the sad news that Mary Lynne had passed away. We bought tickets to Detroit, and early Monday morning we were on our way.

Michigan  welcomed us with sunny spring – but also with a rather malicious wind. Carelessly, I walked around without proper clothing, and by Tuesday the consequences became obvious: sneezing, coughing, and a sore throat that accompanied me for the rest of the trip.

Most of our time was spent with Scott’s family. We attended the viewing and the funeral, both of which were very heartfelt and moving. It was also an opportunity for me to finally meet many members of Scott’s extended family whom I had only heard about before.

In between the sad moments, there were also lighter ones. We had a mini adventure afternoon with Rubie and Grace. Grace drove us around town, we went shopping, and ended the day with burgers at Schlenkers.

One particularly unexpected moment happened while we were driving around. Suddenly we noticed a license plate on the car in front of us that read “ISAOMA.” Not exactly a typical U.S. license plate – and in Estonian it means “dad’s property.” Scott became curious and decided to follow the car for a bit to see if they might stop nearby.

A minute later they pulled into a driveway. Scott immediately recognized it as the driveway of his great aunt Louny’s old house. There was a woman on the porch and a man getting out of the car, and we explained why we had pulled in. We told them about Scott’s great aunt who had once lived there. The current owners had bought the house 26 years ago and had lived there ever since. As it turned out, one of them had Finnish roots and the other German. They explained the license plate: “ISA” means grandfather in Finnish and “OMA” means grandmother in German. I also explained what it means in Estonian.

It turned out they lived just a block away from Mary Lynne and had known her well, so we also had to share the news with them.

I will miss Mary Lynne. She was always the first to comment on my food stories, loved my baking, and because she adored teddy bears, I would always send her a photo whenever I spotted a cute one during my travels. I’m glad Scott managed to give her the Murano glass teddy bear we brought back from Venice.

Some trips are planned months in advance. Others happen suddenly, and for different reasons. 

Glow with the Tide. The Morning the Ocean Turned into Miami

 

We went to sleep once again with the balcony door wide open, listening to gentle waves and that perfect cruise-ship white noise. Pure bliss. At 4 a.m., however, I woke up to the sound of a grumpy Scott closing the balcony door.
Excuse me - what? I was genuinely shocked. Normally, he’s the one who insists on sleeping with windows or doors wide open, no matter the weather. Even if we need to shovel the snow out in the morning. Turns out, the issue this time was… Miami traffic noise. WTF? Yes, dear loyal reader, we were already sailing into Miami, bringing the Caribbean bliss to an end.

We grabbed breakfast one last time and then headed out with our luggage. Just this morning we had read horror stories about endless disembarkation lines and hours of waiting, so instead of politely waiting for our assigned time slot, we made a bold move and headed straight to Deck 6. No chaos. No waiting. No drama. Not even fellow travellers. There was a small delay at passport control, but even that took no more than 10 minutes. Smooth sailing - literally until the very end.

Since both of our flights were only in the evening, but we had to leave the ship in the morning, we had rented a car for the day. The rental company technically offered free shuttle to their office. In reality, waiting for that shuttle felt like waiting for Godot. So we grabbed a taxi and sped there ourselves. We were fifth in line. Thirty minutes later, Scott was still standing in line while I guarded the suitcases outside. By then, the line had grown to about 15 people - just in time for the first free shuttle bus full of rental customers to arrive and immediately join the queue. And a mere 45 minutes later… we had a car. Had we waited for the free shuttle, I’m fairly confident we’d still be standing in that rental line as I write this. On Friday evening.

With the car secured, it was shopping time. We spent a couple of hours in Florida’s largest mall, did some shopping, grabbed food, and then - most importantly - headed to Dairy Queen. Because let’s be honest: no U.S. trip is complete without Dairy Queen. Absolutely worth it. 10/10.

After that, it was time to drive to the airport, return the car, and make our way to the gates. Which we did, like the responsible travellers we are.

When boarding the plane, I noticed my seat was suspiciously… decorated. With what looked very much like vomit. I asked a flight attendant for wet wipes. She didn’t have any, but kindly offered me another blanket to cover the seat and reassured me that this was a brand-new aircraft. Well… that vomit also looked brand new, so I guess everything checked out? Eventually, also wet wipes appeared, and I thoroughly scrubbed away the mystery substance. Crisis managed.

By morning, I was in Copenhagen, followed by a quick transfer - and by early afternoon, home, where Gerli and Saskia were already waiting.

Looking back now, there are three things I miss the most (in no particular order):
1. The amazing food
2. The gym and running track literally minutes away
3. That RIDICULOUSLY comfortable hammock on our balcony

Sure, I miss the weather, the new places, and the whole cruise vibe too - but those three things? Bring them back!

Like a Virgin. Sea Day #5

  

 

Our last full day on the cruise has arrived. Tomorrow morning we’ll dock back in Miami, but today we’re still gloriously at sea - sailing around Cuba and gliding past Key West like seasoned ocean explorers who now know exactly where to find the best food on board.

The day started exactly as it should: with a brunch reservation at Razzle Dazzle. You know, that place - the one with the dangerously good buckwheat waffles and, according to Scott, the best bacon known to humankind. I went for a lighter, virtuous start: watermelon slices with tofu cream, granola, and berries, followed (because balance is important) by the now very familiar buckwheat waffles with pistachio cream. Scott, on the other hand, approached breakfast like a competitive sport: gazpacho, bacon, a chicken sandwich, and… more bacon.

After breakfast we packed our bags and squeezed in a quick workout to convince ourselves that cruise life is, in fact, very healthy. Naturally, this was followed by lunch - because apparently this ship is also home to “the world’s best pizza.” Scott was tasked with bringing one pizza for each of us and returned triumphantly… with three. Apparently there was still one more pizza on the menu we hadn't tried...

As the sun began to set, we did what we’ve done so well all week: watched the sky turn gold and pink. Then it was off to dinner - Wake, the steakhouse, once again. Still absolutely excellent.