Oh, Vienna!

I hope the Dog of the Year isn't too lonely.

Flora's on the road.

But anyway, I was remiss to tell you that I've had

to endure Vienna before Paris, and then Venice.

I know.

Vienna was lovely.

But my heart's still a little way away.

I suggest you get a room with a view (so you can orientate your mind), if one of your old

chalkface colleagues is your personal tour guide, and a semi-local.

 

S and I have said for years, we'd meet in Vienna.

Here she is doing something what she does best.

Touring guiding in the driving rain.

S frequently visits her mother who lives there, in Nussdorf.

Nut Village.

Just near the start of the Danube canal.

And, we went for a visit there, too.

Here's two swans. Remember, I am an Antipodean from the north

end of the end of the universe, so these birds enthral.

We made a visit to her mother's little apartment.

Full of orchids that she blooms herself.

Little effort required.

S traipsed us around the city for hours.

The information was over-whelming and to be honest, right now

I can remember something about a wall, and a Prinze who

had great taste in decorating.

And, what I already knew about that cat-loving and caftan wearing seducer

the great Klimt. Not to forget Vienna's other God, Hunderwasser.

Here's the Secession Museum, Klimt and his artist friends got

built back in the early 1900s after getting the land from the Vienna municipal.

 

 



Here's part of our staple diet.

Fuel to get around all these site-seeing places. 

Vienna Opera.

Volksopera.



 





The Belvedere and its Masterpieces.

A Philip Treacy gig at Swarovski crystal.

Philip had whipped up some jewelled headpieces.

Hugo Boss doing a roaring trade in Dirndls and Lederhosen.

Who would have thought?

More Swarovski making an effort.

Staple diet continues.

Tortes.

Vienna sausages.

Horseradish, not grated cheese.



Schnitzel, so thin you could read a newspaper through it

before crumbing.

Porcelain.

Klimt's omnipresent.

The Colleseum has its Gladiators; Vienna has its Mozart look-a-likes selling

tickets to every other thing.

Most helpful.



 



St Stephens.

Mozart balls.

Off to Venice, now.

 



Things Can Change in a Minute

I had a lovely weekend fashioning and finalising some Spring frippery.

Anticipating that today, even though I was on-leave, I would

pop into to the chalkface to finish an important deadline.

Then start packing for a Paris departure in three days' time.

I'd even had a chance to visit Galeries Layfette online and pick out a pair of

70 Euro shoes!

 

 

 Suddenly, I was rudely interrupted by Mr Fascinata while photographing frippery

my Passport had expired!

Good grief.

Looks like those spambots got it wrong, I am not the

most amazing and clever person in the world.

But, thank you, anyway.

 I had to hot-foot into the City to do the renewal.

Fraught with worry that I'd end up waiting hours for

an appointment.

When I'd left the chalkface's job 'til the eleventh hour.

 I had to recall the secrets of The Secret and use psychic will

to jettison myself to the top of the queue in the Post Office for

the new photographs.

 And the same at the Passport Office.

The Secret worked a treat and the emergency Passport is now waiting for collection.

And my request was done over the enquiries counter.

I am still amazed and very grateful.

Have you ever used The Secret and its frippery?

Cartier was friendly the other night.

They showcased the Nouvelle Vague jewellery range.

The range is based on the film movement. About rebellion and the like.

Hence the up-side-down Paris icons.

 Red, white and blue flag fleurs.

 The Surfers Paradise skyline.

 The event was 5 Star +, but frankly I was disappointed with the drinks arrangement.

The trolley looked pillaged from the outset.

 There's lots of packaging here, but don't panic, I didn't practise The

Secret on Mr Fascinata; that bag only contains a pair of sunglasses.

Very nice all the same.

 

What we spent on sunglasses, we saved on dinner, by buying the

last three pieces of ham and pineapple pizza in Surfers Paradise.

 

I might not see you until I am Paris.

So, stay happy and use The Secret.

 



wimcee: The happiest market of them all...

wimcee: The happiest market of them all... If you live in Brisbane, get to these markets!