Unless you count the staycation we enjoyed at the Plaza Hotel in winter 2000, this trip was our first vacation just the 4 of us.
Thursday night I flew from Rome to Budapest were I met my parents at the hotel. I got in pretty late so they just gave me Tate’s Gluten Free Chocolate chip cookies and we went to sleep.
honestly, we probably wouldn’t have been able to take pictures inside so no one would have known the difference.
The next morning we woke up, had breakfast at a local cafe, and went to see the Synagogue. I had actually just learned about the synagogue in my Jewish-Italian class because it is similar in style to the synagogue in Florence. It was gorgeous from the outside, however it was Passover so it was closed. Karina was very upset because she said the hotel had called the day before to make sure it was open, but you win some you lose some. In her discussion with the people at the synagogue, she learned that Chabad was having a seder that night for the first night of Passover, so we signed up to go.
My parents and I walked along the water, got some Jewish pastries, and waited for Carly to arrive. My parents also decided to get revenge on me for all of the times I’ve sent them pictures of what I’ve been eating and the sights I’ve seen by relentlessly describing their flight and their layover in the “Admirals Club” since they all flew first class and I flew Wizz Air. So while my dad was eating cookie dough ice cream with chocolate shavings and enjoying his warm towelette, I was fighting to get a window seat. It was cruel of them. When Carly arrived we got our stuff and went to the bathhouse.
guess who wore his flip-flops into the pool?
The baths were cool, but also disgusting. The facilities were nice and clean, however I did not enjoy being in a warm pool, which felt like a bath, with other gross strangers. It just wasn’t my cup of tea. We at one point went into this inner pool that was surrounded by a ring with a current. When Carly and I went to leave the inner pool, we couldn’t escape because of the current and had to circle all the way around it to escape. My parents laughed at us and called us weak. So then when they went to leave, my dad tried to act so powerful and took my mom’s hand to lead her out. They fought it for a while, but then all of a sudden we just saw the current sweep my dad off of his feet. He fell underwater and got carried in the current so they too had to go all the way around before they could escape. It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Way to go, Drew.
Outside the seder. Luckily I didn’t have to do the 4 Questions although Carly tried to convince me to get up on the stage with the other small children
We left the baths, showered, and then Carly, my mom, and I left for the seder. My dad was fortunate enough to be able to stay back in the hotel and nap. The seder was actually an awesome experience. It was 100% in Hebrew so I didn’t understand any of the explanations, but all of the songs were the same and it was just cool to have this shared experience with 1,000 strangers who came from all different backgrounds and yet all knew the same songs, the same story. We found the only other Americans- the parents of a girl studying abroad in Prague who actually went to camp with some of my friends- and we sat together and played the world’s best game of charades. We just used everyone else’s gestures to figure out what page we were on and what was going on.
The seder was long (this crew didn’t mess around. We sang EVERY SINGLE dayenu verse) but we ditched after 2 hours when the festival meal was over. Carly was tired.
The next day we woke up, checked out of the hotel and went to the Castle area. The church in Buda was really pretty and we walked along this pathway. The stone detailing on the roof was awesome. It was a really pretty area but kind of rainy so we decided to go find this museum called “Hospital in the Rocks” that was recommended for “WWII history buffs and people who like medicine.” Sold. It was SO CREEPY. It was in a cave and so tiny and antiquated and honestly if I was sick or needed a hospital I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d want to be less. It also weirdly reminded me of a gas chamber. It was Easter weekend though, so the tour guide hid chocolates and gift bags around the museum. Guess who located all 3 of them. That’s right, this 5-year-old. If it wasn’t for the free chocolates and chewy lollipops I would have been entirely creeped out. It also served as a nuclear bomb shelter during the cold war, and the kits they had were terrifying.
no, the matching wasn’t planned. we wish we were coordinated enough to do that.
We had a really good lunch- I had goose leg with cabbage and apple and my dad and sister had goulash- and then got on the train. My parents were going to Vienna and Carly and I were continuing on the train to Salzburg because we had the SOUND OF MUSIC tour the next morning!
Our hotel in Salzburg was kind of weird- the wallpaper in the room was some kind of panoramic view of Salzburg in sepia with only green accents on the leaves. The breakfast buffet was great in the morning, though- and it was Easter Sunday so we had chocolates on our pillow and colored hard boiled eggs at breakfast! I knew I was going to be seeing Miranda on the tour- but what we didn’t know was that WE WERE THE ONLY ONES ON THE TOUR. How weird is that? It was just the 7 of us in a van, listening to the Sound of Music soundtrack on repeat and taking in the sights. It was snowing outside, but that didn’t detract much from the fun.
My favorite part (besides getting to see everybody!!) was the gazebo. It’s in plexiglass and locked because some idiot decided to reenact 16 going on 17 and fell through the glass and broke their ankle. I think that’s hysterical.
After the tour Carly and I got back on the train and headed for Vienna. We met our parents at the hotel and walked around until dinner. Vienna is my favorite city. It was exactly as I always imagined Paris to be like but actually isn’t- elegant, gorgeous, clean, perfect. I NEED to go back. We walked along the Habsburgs Palace (reminded me of the Habsburg Prince from 30 rock) and then went to dinner where my dad and I had weiner schnitzel. It was to die for. We then went to Hotel Sacher for sachertorte. And now I need to delve into things a bit:
Vienna was kind of difficult to handle. My Zayda was born Fritz Rones in Vienna in the 1920s into a Jewish family. His father died of a heart condition when he was 14. In 1939 when things started to get very bad for the Jews in Austria, his aunt sponsored him to come to America. Since his mother, aunt, and grandma were born in Romania and not Austria and there was a quota, he was the only one who was able to come to America and thus had to say goodbye to everything and everyone he knew at the age of 16.
My Zayda and I always had a very special bond, and I really expected to have some sort of connection with Austria, just as I do with Italy. This was where he grew up and where his traditions stemmed from. But it’s hard to. I guess it’s because the Vienna I’m experiencing was not even remotely close to the Vienna he experienced.
One of the only things we did that I was really able to do that was even a little bit connected to him was eating sachertorte. My Zayda spoke about how he used to love this cake and his parents would buy it for him on special occasions. In 1991 when we went to Italy, he returned with my Bubby to Vienna and brought back a Sachertorte for us. We have it on video and it’s so touching to see him eating this cake for the first time since he was a teenager and still living with his parents. It’s one of the only good memories he retained from Vienna, and so it was really important to me- not just as a chocoholic- but also as some remembrance of my Zayda and his family. Without his terrible past and the Holocaust and Austria I wouldn’t be here, which is a really weird thought. As the tourguide at the Florence synagogue eloquently said, “whether you laugh at it or cry about it- it won’t change history” -there’s nothing you can do about the past but laugh at it and remember, so you have to focus on the good. Especially when that good is a slice of chocolate cake.
And it was AMAZING. Perfectly chocolatey but not too rich or overpowering, and the frosting was perfect. I brought back a box with mini-cubes of sachertorte to Florence. My Zayda had good taste.
The next day we did more Fred-appreciation and went to visit his old apartment. We had a cab driver bring us there and wait for us while we took pictures. As we were doing that, I noticed a plaque on the wall with the years 1939 and 1945 on it, so I knew it must be about the holocaust or WWII. I asked the cab driver to translate it for me. He spoke TERRIBLE English, so he kept repeating everyone word slowly and using hand gestures. “building. buillllldddingg. you know, a building *mimes a big square and points to building* building!” yes, I know what a building is. Next word. So he was doing this with every word until he got to Hitler. And he started saying “Hitler. Hittlerrrr” and miming the hand salute to him. I was the only one witnessing this and it was so hard not to laugh at. Thank you sir, I know who Hitler is. That name, unfortunately, is the same in every language. But it was funny to watch him try to mime Hitler to me.
We then took a tram to the cemetery to find my Zayda’s father’s grave. He had trouble finding it on his first trip, so he had to seek help from a Jewish organization who contacted him when we were in Vallecorsa in 1991. My Uncle Cliff and him returned to see it and take pictures. He also ordered a new headstone as well as a footstone in honor of his mother who died in a work camp and thus never was given a proper burial. We had the grave section, row, and number- but some of the information must have been wrong since we couldn’t find it, and it was Easter Monday so the offices weren’t open to help us. We spent 2 hours walking through the completely uncared for jungles of the old Jewish graves- which was juxtaposed with the intricately cared for, more modern Christian graves. What’s sad about this is the fact that it’s because all of the relative of those buried in the Jewish section either died in the Holocaust or fled. So now there’s no one to visit them. That was a really depressing thought. I was also upset that my Zayda spent money to give his father and mother a proper tombstone and no one in the family has seen it yet. I just wanted to put stones on them because in some weird, spiritual-afterlife way I want my mom’s grandparents to know that they still have family members who care to come back for them and that they are still remembered. We ended up putting stones on the tombs of 2 teenagers who, from what we could discern, were killed in the Holocaust or “German Terror” as it was written. But I really must go back and find Karl and Karoline’s grave.
On a funnier note: remember that time my family left me in a bathroom in Rome? Well even funnier than that is when they left me in a cemetery in Austria. Yea. That happened. I went to look for it in a mass of graves, and my family just walked off and I couldn’t find them. It was terrifying. Almost as terrifying as when the Austrian cemetary caretaker- who didn’t speak much English- invited my dad into his car and then drove off with him. Yes, Andrew was kidnapped. Luckily we all made it, although defeated. Fun fact about my dad: whenever they would speak to him and he wouldn’t understand, he would reply “si, si”. Dad: they don’t speak Italian here and neither do you. I don’t know why “si” was his immediate response. It was hysterical.
We got back on the tram to Vienna, had lunch, and went to see the Habsburg Palace and Imperial Apartments. I learned a lot about Queen Elisabeth and she’s a very interesting character. Apparently there’s a German musical about her which I read up on and it looks really good- I hope someone in America decides to bring it to Broadway. We walked around Vienna more and enjoying the nice weather and then went to a Mozart concert/ballet/opera combination. It was really nice, I LOVE Mozart. I can’t wait to buy some of his songs and add them to my “classical music- naptime” playlist. He was a genius. (and now here’s a plug for another child musical prodigy: GOOGLE EMILY BEAR.)
After the concert we ate dinner at the restaurant in the opera house, so we were able to watch the ballet from TV monitors as we ate. I’m not quite sure what the ballet was- it said Anna Karenina and there was Tchaikovsky music. I’m obsessed with Tchaikovsky- he’s already 4/5 of my naptime-classical playlist. We were able to sneak into the opera at the end, which was great. We couldn’t get tickets because it was sold out, but I NEED to see something (hopefully a Tchaikovsky ballet) in that opera house at some point in my life. My favorite part of it was when they played the “Fantasy Overature” from Romeo and Juliet, because that’s the music they play in the Sims when the Sims fall in love. Yup.
I left for the airport early the next morning, and it was much sadder to leave my family than I thought it would be. We really had such an amazing weekend and it was so much fun. Much better than our staycation, I’d say. I missed them so much! LOVE YOU!
do you see the ring of current?
father-daughter photobomb
whatisshedoing 