Four is the Magic Number

I can only say four words in German: thanks, goodbye, and white wine. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to learn any more than these four words this summer but that's totally fine with me. They've done me well so far and I expect even more good things out of them in the coming months.

In many ways, not knowing the language makes everything about Vienna one huge adventure. It's like I'm playing a game everyday - me versus German. German is clearly winning. Yesterday, for instance, I really wanted some tortilla chips. Shockingly, Austria's selection of Mexican snacks is limited. I did, however, find a package with what looked to be a photo of crackers on the front. And wasn't I surprised when I got home and opened my mystery box to find out that I had purchased not crackers but teething biscuits! Yes, that's right. Blocks of stale bread made for toddlers to gnaw on as their teeth come in. Oh German, you get me every time.

In an effort to heal my bruised ego from the teething biscuits fiasco, I went out in Museumsquartier, the hip district in Vienna. I went with my roommate Martin and a few of his friends from Montreal. Martin is like the male French-Canadian version of me, so we get along great. We missed the last subway home, stayed out all night, and then celebrated making it to Sunday alive by trekking to the holiest of North American shrines - McDonald's. It didn't disappoint.


Pictured above: A piece of modern art on display in front of the bar we were at last night.