European Christmas Tour – Prague, Vienna, Budapest

European Christmas Tour.
It's officially called the "Fuck You 2013" European Christmas Tour. It was a long, hard year and I'm more than ready for it to end. One thing that kept me going was looking forward to and planning the trip to three great European Christmas markets.I t was so interesting to compare and contrast these three great cities.

Prague was stunning – huge, ornate buildings lined up one

after the other. Often linking for what seemed like blocks. It was busy, bustling, festive and fun.

Vienna was stunning. Pristine, prim and proper. Clean and reserved. A perfect place for Cinderella to attend a ball. Beautiful!

Budapest was stunning. Really stunning. Take the first two cities, mix them together gently, then double. Majestic, reserved, stately. And did I mention, stunning!

I'm afraid I'm going to have to go on a Christmas market tour every year. Here's hoping the next one won't be a FU tour.

Welcome to Prague.
On one of our many, many trips to the St. Charles bridge, my eyes, ears and heart opened to the beauty of the moment. Walking across the bridge, hearing voices in so many languages and looking around at the majestic castle and surrounding buildings – it made me teary eyed.

I can't imagine what it's like to live in such a world. Where everything is older than time and comes with hundreds of years of history. We Americans are so surface oriented. We have no depth or character.

As noted, we made many trips to the St. Charles Bridge. We needed a thousand pictures in case it moved or changed color. Grand Canyon anyone? The Prague Castle in the background was a beautiful backdrop. It, and the chill of the air, took my breath away.

The second night, the Christmas markets came to life. Everything was lit up, trees were decorated and the party was "on". On one trip through the crowds, I literally started to laugh out loud. It felt like Times Square. Shoulder to shoulder trying to wedge yourself through the crowd. Only there were no streetlights or traffic control so it was anyone's game to win. So much fun to be part of that craziness.

Prague has lots of markets. Unfortunately, they all seemed to be selling the same thing. All the food stalls had pork, sausage, chestnuts and trdelnik (brioche rolled dough in sugar/cinnamon). Nobody thought it was possible, but by the end of the trip, I was thoroughly tired of hot dogs and sausage.

And why was adding to my Santa and snowman collection so hard? My dreams of adding one from each country were dashed quickly. It was hard enough to even find one much less a special snowman or an authentic Santa.

One highlight was walking down Neruda Street. Since Pablo Neruda loved this area so much, he changed his name to it. I wanted to see it for myself. You can see similarities to the house he built in Chile.

The astronomical clock didn't thrill me as much as it could have. It thrilled me even less after I went to the top of it for a bird's eye view of the market. I've never seen so many people crammed into a clock before. A one-person, one-way, one exit path around the top of it. I find myself becoming less and less of a tower fan the more I travel.

Comedy Relief.
Pre-boarding the plane, they requested I move my seat to redistribute the weight on the plane. This is disturbing on so many levels. First, how do they know how much I weigh? Or that I've gained weight this year? Secondly, since the plane is less than half full due to our Thanksgiving day departure, what are we going to do when people arbitrarily redistribute themselves to empty seats? I'm hoping they have electronic scales so we don't mistakenly make bad seat choices.

Mike at work asked me if I collected dolls upon hearing I was going to the Christmas markets. He said that's all he could picture. I laughed – right up until I turned the first corner in Prague and saw the sign for the doll convention. Dolls followed us throughout the trip. Dolls indeed!

George was in charge of restaurants and picked well. We went to a little cafe in Prague, however, whose motto was, "We really don't want your business." When we arrived, they said they had no room. We asked if we could wait and were told it could be hours before we got a table. A few minutes later when room opened up, they told us we must ask permission from the rest of the table to sit.

Later, when our three tablemates left and three women wanted their seats, they were told, "This is a table for five and there are already three women there." I could only imagine how happy they all would have been if nobody ever came to their little cafe.

Damn, their hot chocolate (pudding) was good though. And George's warm bread with herb butter. They really should make crappier food if they don't want patrons.

Wow – hot chestnuts are disgusting! Kay eats a whole pig for dinner just to get rid of the taste!

Welcome to Vienna.
Getting to Vienna proved to be a valuable lesson on many fronts.

Lesson 1: When they say "negotiate the price of the taxi upfront", what they mean is: If you don't negotiate, we cannot feel sorry for you when the driver requests 17 times what the fare should be. I think we're fairly smart women. And then God reminds me otherwise.

Lesson 2: The hot chocolate test should remain exempt of the train. What I believe happens is they capture engine steam in a cup until they have enough to actually form water. Then they add diesel fuel and part of one Hershey kiss. Delicious...

Lesson 3: One really should not mention needing to blow up bombs on the train. I'm pretty sure they'll throw you in jail without asking questions. George told me Candy Crush was taking over my life. Maybe she's right.

Although there are similarities to Prague, Vienna feels like a whole different world. The beautiful, majestic buildings take on an ethereal quality here. Everything is

light and pure and regal. And clean. It feels "classical."

We were fortunate to experience what I've always thought of as quintessential Vienna:

- A lovely carriage ride in the evening over cobblestone streets. Pretty Christmas lights, crisp, clean air and nothing but the "clop clop" of horses hooves to listen to.

- The truly magnificent Lippizaner horses. So large and dominant – yet so light and graceful as they sidestep their little waltzes across the arena. Interesting to learn that they're black until several years of age when they turn white. Less interesting to learn that only men appear to be able to ride

them. Unfortunately, I found this sexist attitude prevalent throughout the trip. Women were allowed to work only in limited capacity. Men got the better jobs.

- The opera house. Nope – not a fan of opera. A fan of the opera house, though. And what fun to get so close to the stage. I bet even I could "suffer" through a performance in this beautiful building.

- A classical music concert. Yes, the seats were less than comfortable. But I'll always remember the thrill of the trill of the piccolo. OMG – the speed at which he mastered his solo was extraordinary. Truly delightful.

- The palaces.
Schoenborn – this one felt the biggest. I'm not sure which one actually is. It was fun to tour it and hear about Maria Therese and her rule. I'd like to have a cup of tea with her in one of those many fine rooms and have a little discussion about equal rights. MT - what happened? Your dad fought for your crown yet you pass it along to your first born son? I can only imagine that your daughter had a few questions about that.

Belvedere – oh for the love (of Lindsey). A former palace now the museum home of our treaured Klimt painting The Kiss. Hey George – we can buy Kiss souvenirs in every single store. Do we really need to go to Belvedere? Apparantly so. To experience the "real" thing, we needed to hike around twelve football field sized fences to find the one entrance out of a possible dozen that you could acutally enter. Then there's the game of "Who'll be the first to find the door?" And my favorite, "Catch me if you can," played by K-Bear and the security guards. K-Bear's super powers prevail. "Lil 'ol innocent me take a picture? Never!"

And Hofburg – where we learn about the idiosyncratic Empress Sisi. Or as George says "She be crazy." Sounds like she did have just a twinge of paranoia or some sort of psychotic illness. But let's be fair. Wouldn't life be a tad easier if you could have a wee bit of cocaine to get you through some bad PMS? Or menopause, for sure. And, there wasn't much entertainment for an empress to have. So she created her own by strapping herself onto a chair on the deck of a ship in turbulent seas. Is that really so different from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney World? Really?

Foods You Should Not Try.
Traveling is an experience of trying new foods. Many of them are a one and done. Here are a few.

Gingerbread. WHAT? I love gingerbread. Was excited to try it at the markets. Made some bars myself for Christmas. But never agin in Europe. Worst of all, buying a

"gingerbread cookie", I ended up with a whole stack of them. I think they sell it in bulk because if you tasted the first one, you'd never go back for a second.

Marzipan. Pretty as a picture is our little marzipan treat. Tastes pretty much like a picture, too. Kinda like ground up paper mush with a splash of sugar. If marzipan potatoes are a Christmas treat, no wonder Santa is so hungry for cookies by the time he gets to the U.S. He's flown half the night with nothing but gingerbread and marzipan.

Ham with creamy cream. Granted, this happened on the train with the less-than-stellar hot chocolate. But I did see it on the menu elsewhere. Take a slice of ham, fill it with creamy cream (or whippet cream) and roll up. Weirdest thing ever. Whoever thought that would be good must have been married to the Norwegian making lutefisk. A little ham and cream might be the perfect antidote to lye-soaked fish.

Pumpkin juice. A special Budapest treat. Why do all of these special treats taste so bad? Sure is pretty though. Would look great next to a marzipan tray.

Foods You Should Try.
Sweet almonds. Or any of the sugared nuts. So, so good. I've been craving them since I got home.

Vienna pastries. Now here's the right place for creamy whippet cream – in the middle of a big pastry. HUGE! And I could eat one all by myself.

Weiner schnitzel. Wouldn't want it on a regular basis but basically tasted like an upscale chicken McNugget. Served alongside three pounds of mashed potatoes.

Ghoulash. In a bowl. Over bread. Alongside three pounds of mashed potatoes. It all works.

Chicken paprikash. Going to see if I can find a recipe and make it on my own at home. That's always worked out so well for me in the past. NOT!

Sacher torte. Or any torte/cake that catches your eye. There are plenty to choose from.

Goose liver? George would give a big "Hell, yes!" It was interesting. A very special treat in Budapest (and you know how those are). But good. And pricey.

Welcome to Budapest.
And then there's Budapest. Glorious! This feels like the most foreign of the three. Less people speak English. It looks older and buildings/architecture are unreal. We stayed right on the Danube and took a river cruise the first night. The views were just incredible.

I feel like I didn't see enough of Budapest – it wasn't the best part of the trip for me. I stayed in and slept while George and K-Bear went on the city tour. We did go back to St. Matthias Church the next morning so I could see the pretty orange church and spectacular city views from the hills.

And I saw night views of the many buildings on the cruise. But

for the city in which we spent the most time, I saw the least of this one.

I enjoyed Folkart Centrum – the market which sold all the fresh fruit, produce, meat and fish. I picked up several souvenirs here including paprika. Paprika. It's not just for Pringles.

I also went to Hendel's Ceramics and got a beautiful bird plate. One of my favorite stores on the entire trip.

I tried to visit a museum but that didn't turn out so well. And these were my least favorite markets. Although apparently the one at the museum looked. good.

Story Time.
Did I mention I got stuck in the bed in Vienna? Or that K-Bear simply rolled over and ignored my cries for help? Did she not remember the butterfly puzzle in Prague? The vendor wouldn't sell it to her. Now that I think about it, this market must have been run by the same people who owned the Crabby Cafe. "We have things to sell, but we'd rather not. We don't need your business. Or anyone else's."

Then there's George who leaves a $1.76 tip for a $78 meal. And the waiter thanks her for it! Might as well have smacked him in the face. Speaking of...I did a pretty good job of doing just that to myself.

SMACK! Into the sliding glass museum door. When somebody asks, "Are you OK? Did you break anything?" and you can't feel your face, what is the correct response? As history shows, there is no ice in Europe so my lip swells up like a balloon.

So the only thing left for me to do is pass out. Good thing we're in a castle so I can feign being a princess and collapse onto the stairs. Sprawled out like a fat sea lion is more like it. As I regained stability, I realized they had called the Budapest emergency team. Although George would do anything for me, there was a big "Dear God. Really?" sign above her head. That was a trip nobody wanted to make. So a taxi back to the hotel was the next best solution. Good thing we spent so much money on this hotel because I made the most of it.

Welcome Home.
It's good to be back. To eat a sandwich for dinner. To just stick my wine in the microwave for my own Gluewein.

With George, we never know where we're headed next. I pray it's not straight into a glass door.