Untersberg...

So, where were we? Oh yes, MOUNTAINS! On our rainy second day hike, we were captivated by one mountain in particular.

The wispy clouds were hanging in between the various peaks and valleys, and every few minutes, they would blow away just enough to reveal the top summit.

With the naked eye, it was impossible to see any details. But, thanks to the telefoto, we realized there was a cross on that there hill! Not to mention various little huts and antennae.

This revelation ignited in Matthew and Reuben a burning, stronger-than-ever desire to climb. At that moment, we resolved to make our way vertically towards some snow if the weather cleared up the next day. And what do you know? Day 3 was bright and sunny! The nice old man at the Best Western concierge desk directed us to Untersberg, the closest mountain for exploring. And turns out, the mountain we had been ogling the day before was in fact Untersberg! It was the first mountain we saw while exiting our airplane, and now, we were heading for the top of it.

Of course, before such an undertaking, your body must be properly full of nutrition. Thus, we stopped for breakfast at a hippie café around the corner from our hotel. On that street, two particular automobiles caught our attention.

This one was sooooo teeny tiny! Smaller than a Shriner clown car. Maybe even more miniature than a Smart Car. It was parked in a typically cramped, standard European-sized spot, and look how much extra room was around it! I think Matthew's long legs would have stretched from the back seat to the pedals.

And this unfortunate VW elicited chuckles from many a passerby.  Surely the driver (presumably a woman, I was informed) was aware that she had smashed into a concrete pillar. Maybe she was late for work and decided to leave it until the end of the day. Bummer.

Anyway, were were crossing our fingers that the cable car ride to the top of Untersberg would be a safer mode of transportation than those vehicles.  

I loved how the boys were sizing up their opponent (the mountain) as we approached the lift.

No turning back now. Onward and upward.

Oh hey, there's the landing strip at the airport.

As we ascended, the views grew more spectacular.

8 minutes later, we had almost reached the top. My ears had popped like 10 times already. It was indeed colder (-2C) all the way up there, and my lungs were not a fan of the slight depletion in oxygen levels. Can I just say that I have no earthly idea how people climb Everest? I'm 99% positive I would die before reaching base camp.

And, we made it! Looking back down the cables, we couldn't even see our original departure point.

The cable car spits you out into a restaurant/gift shop area, allowing us to put on a couple additional warm layers and sunglasses before heading out into the elements. We were grossly unprepared for the hiking that lay ahead of us, but to be fair, we hadn't expected that we'd be ankle deep in fresh snow at the end of April. People were using the cable car as a ski lift, and Matt was wearing Chuck Taylors.

After walking for a few minutes (mouths agape and eyes blinded) we stopped and reviewed our progress. Looking backwards, we saw the cross that had been covered by clouds the day before. And one of the huts we'd seen from the ground was the restaurant. Down in the lower left corner is the city of Salzburg.

Then, came the most difficult and epic part of our climb. Wall-e (the gargantuan snow zamboni) carved a trail for us, but it still wasn't easy going. However, we were dadgum determined to make it to the highest point, where there was another cross and a portion of the most jaw-dropping landscape eyes have ever glimpsed. Our destination was way up in the right corner of this picture. You might be able to see the tiny black dots (otherwise known as humans).

I couldn't resist gettin' artsy with an icy grass clump real quick.

And it just kept getting better and better. There were Golden Eagles soaring around us. My anguished expression was due to the fact that every time an eagle came within a photographable distance, we were too slow to get the lenses swapped. So close! AAHHH! These birds were incredible. They probably had a wingspan as wide as I am tall.

To our surprise, upon reaching the summit, we were quickly hushed by a film crew that apparently thought they owned the mountain. We are partially convinced that the old man they were interviewing was the Austrian equivalent of David Attenborough. We think they were doing a nature documentary of some kind, but this one crew member lady kept giving us the stink eye. We were making too much noise. Sorry we are gingerly taking steps in the snow and it makes a barely audible crunching noise. Should we stifle our breathing as well? Back off, woman.

Even she couldn't ruin this moment.

We had a ridiculously good-looking couple take a group picture for us. Truly, they were like Barbie and Ken. They could have easily been shooting a magazine campaign for Gucci winter wear or something. My nickname for the girl was "Snow Bunny," and Matt thought that was comical.

Aw, how sweet. But don't be fooled by their boy-next-door personas.

Grumpy movie-maker lady gave them the evil eye one too many times, and this was their instinctual response. Take that! Taught her a lesson, didn't we?

One creepy man from the film crew followed up the boys' shenanigan by pointing out that it was now my turn. He must've thought I had "Girls Gone Wild" aspirations judging by the shirtless company I was in. Fool, you crazy. And with that awkward moment, it was time begin our descent back to sea level. There were some ominous clouds blowing in, and we didn't wait around to find out what would happen if we got stuck up there.

Golly gee willikers.

One more <clothed> portrait. Yes, we have matching sunglasses. Only because Matthew copied me. I can't help being a trendsetter.

Thankfully, we made it safely back down to the ground (after making a pit stop for pizza and hot chocolate at the restaurant). The day was only half over, but I'll save our extremely odd experience at Hellbrunn Palace for another post. For now, I'd like to leave you with a poem that sums up the awe we felt atop Untersberg. Auf wiedersehen.

  "O my soul, bless God! God, my God, how great You are!
      beautifully, gloriously robed,
   Dressed up in sunshine,
      and all heaven stretched out for Your tent.
   You built Your palace on the ocean deeps,
      made a chariot out of clouds and took off on wind-wings.
   You commandeered winds as messengers,
      appointed fire and flame as ambassadors.
   You set earth on a firm foundation
      so that nothing can shake it, ever.
   You blanketed earth with ocean,
      covered the mountains with deep waters;
   Then You roared and the water ran away—
      Your thunder crash put it to flight.
   Mountains pushed up, valleys spread out

   in the places You assigned them...

What a wildly wonderful world, God!
      You made it all, with Wisdom at Your side,
      made earth overflow with Your wonderful creations...

The glory of God—let it last forever!
      Let God enjoy His creation!
   He takes one look at earth and triggers an earthquake,
      points a finger at the mountains, and volcanoes erupt.  

Oh, let me sing to God all my life long,
      sing hymns to my God as long as I live!
   Oh, let my song please Him;
      I'm so pleased to be singing to God.

   O my soul, bless God!" 

Psalm 104

Ich Möchte Mountains...

Dearest Readers,
My deepest apologies for temporarily vacating the blogosphere. Not to fear, I have returned and have brought some scenery to share with you that I believe will make the wait worthwhile. Last week, hubby and I spent five days touring around Austria and Germany with our friend Reuben. (When I string together a sentence like that previous one, I feel the urge to smack myself. Touring around Austria and Germany? Really? Who says that?) Anyway, thanks to Reuben's stellar German prowess, we accomplished the dual purposes of our trip: 1) meat, and 2.) mountains.

Along the way, Matthew and I attempted to pick up some helpful German phrases, but the only one that stuck was, "Ich möchte (insert direct object here)." Which means, "I want (and then add whatever you want)." So we wanted mountains. And meat. Mountains of meat? That might be taking it too far, although we did conquer a few too many schnitzel burgers and bratwursts.

But, enough jawing. You need photographic evidence of the mountains and the meat. Let's begin in Salzburg where we spent three glorious days surrounded by the Alps and The Sound of Music.

We took full advantage of the sun while it was out and started our venture at the Mirabel Gardens, which were near our hotel. (Please notice the tip of the MOUNTAIN in the background!) This gate was at the entrance to one end of the grounds, and it sat atop...

...the infamous "Do Re Mi" steps! Folks, you better be ready for some recurring references to the movie versions of Fraulein Maria and the Von Trapp children. There's a lot more where that came from.

 

Case and point: reference numero dos. Wish I had a bike handy while belting out, "Doe - a deer, a female deer!"

Matthew was quickly becoming sick of my Julie Andrews impersonations.

However, he recovered enough to pose with me near this beautiful magnolia tree.

Then, it was time to exit the garden through the swirls of lovely tulips and cross the bridge into the old part of town...

...where we passed the fanciest McDonald's sign ever...

...and a street performer who looked curiously similar to her canine counterpart. Eventually, we made our way to...

our inaugural meal o' meat.

Nothing better than food from a roadside stand. Less than an hour in Salzburg, and we had begun to fulfill the mountains and meat requirements. Off to a great start!

A few cobblestone steps later, I found the door of my dreams.

And then, we stumbled upon a really intense, giant game of chess.

These guys weren't messing around. I was slightly afraid both of what the bald man might do if he lost and how the older gentleman's health would be affected should he lose. All that worrying left me in need of some fuel. 

Luckily, this pop-up pretzel shop was nearby. Chocolate covered and filled with marmalade? Do you even have to ask?

Well, that pretty much wraps up day one. We had just enough sunlight left in the evening to get back to the Best Western and plan day two. The next morning was drizzly, but we weren't about to let that keep us down.

We went back into Old Town for Sunday morning brunch.

And then, it was time to go up. You might recognize this facade as the exterior of the festival amphitheater where the Von Trapps sing the (fake) Austrian anthem, "Edelweiss," and make their sneaky escape from the Nazi audience members. If you look closely, you might see the man at the base of the second stairway wearing traditional regional attire. Lederhosen, yah.

Climbing higher, we came upon views like this one. Not too shabby. I loved the oxidized copper domes and steeples.

Up further still was a great lookout spot. Made it just in time to hear the bells all around the city as they struck the hour. And yeah, that's a castle in the top corner. Apparently, it was a rarity in the castle world because it was never overtaken. If you could get a good idea of how steep that hill is, you would understand why.

Around on the opposite side of the hill we climbed were a few exceptionally quaint cottages. I think a hobbit may have inhabited this one at some point in time.

Pass the hobbit houses, and BAM! MOUNTAINS!!! Yup, we stood up there for awhile. Kind of takes your breath away. If this is but a taste of Switzerland, I should probably keep my inhaler handy on that trip. Don't be so distracted by the mountains that you miss the building above Matt's left shoulder. That is indeed the Villa Von Trapp. The outside of it anyway. This was where they filmed the exterior shots on the rear terrace of the house. And where all the kids got dumped out of the boat and into the lake.

There, zooming in a bit may help to jog your memory.

When we had sufficiently basked in the majesty of the mountains and vowed to climb them all, it was time for an afternoon snack.

Back down the hill toward the pretzel stand. I bet we single-handedly kept these guys in business during our time in Austria. This time we tried the doughnut flavored one. For the record, chocolate was superior by far.

Full bellies once more, we strolled through the cemetery where the Hollywood version of the Von Trapps hid in iron clad vestibules from the pursuit of the Nazis. Remember how Rolf ruined it by blowing the whistle? What a turd face. While there, we talked to a nice man who was wearing a Mizzou Tigers baseball cap. Small world. And of course, I gravitated toward the flower beds that were growing on top of the graves. I hope that doesn't make me disrespectful.

How could I possibly miss these pansies? I promise, I did not stage the water droplets. Pretty perfect, huh?

Exquisite. God is a genius. And He knows just how to get to me.

I liked these golden pom pom bushes. That's their scientific name, obviously.

Wowzers. Ok, that was the last one. But I could keep going. I'll spare you this time.

On that girly note, let me tell you about the most manly thing ever that you can look forward to about our third day in Austria: CLIMBING A MOUNTAIN! That's right. We followed our adventuresome little hearts 2,000 meters up a snow-covered precipice with inadequate footwear and lived to tell the tale.

Vintage Converse = Zero Traction.

 More to come soon. Gutenacht(?) 

Oh, the Irony!

Well, with a new house under contract and things looking up, we hugged our parents and shed a few tears before boarding our plane back to London. It is insane how quickly six months have flown by. I remember sitting in the Chicago airport back in September and saying, "I can't believe we are moving to England! This is the last time our feet will be on American soil until March!" And in the blink of an eye, March arrived, and we were waiting at Heathrow airport thinking, "I can't believe it's already time for our visit back to the States." And only three short weeks later in the Houston airport, "It doesn't seem real that we are already going back to Cambridge." I don't even want to think about how stealthily July will sneak up on us.

But anyway, as soon as our bleary eyes caught a glimpse of the cobblestone streets and historic colleges, we realized again how lucky we are to be here. This term is entirely devoted to Matthew's internship and dissertation, which means he doesn't have any classes to attend. Which meant that for the first week we were back, we had no type of schedule to adhere to. Which meant that it took an entire week for us to get over our jet lag. We would stay up until three in the morning and then not wake up again until two in the afternoon. It was ridiculous. But sometime during that madness, Matthew was able to plan a splendid birthday surprise for me. As I mentioned before, my birthday was on Easter, and it was a rather laid back day. We slept in, went to the evening service at church, then came home and dined on a succulent ham while watching Mary Poppins. I thoroughly enjoyed our casual time spent together, but Matthew is a gift-giver, and he felt the need to do more. So this past Sunday, we went into London and celebrated a festive day of food and music and pretended it was my birthday all over again.

During the hour-long train ride, we kept seeing these hills covered in brilliant gold flowers. Matt thinks they are canola plants. I'd buy it.

Stop #1 for the day was a place called the Bacchus Pub and Kitchen. Reviews on the internet claimed that this was the spot to find the best Sunday roast in town, and from the taste of it, I was convinced. The restaurant was a little off the beaten path, you might say. I was glad we went during the day time, if you know what I mean. But that Yorkshire pudding was magnificent. Oh, and I did not purposely order pink tea. I asked for lemon verbena, but the waiter thought I said ribena, which means grape juice. I'd never heard of such a thing, but whatever, it was yummy!

With full stomachs, we were on our way to stop #2. We saw loads of cool buildings between the South Kensington tube station and our destination. The curved building on the right was a bunch of mansions.

This was one of the many impressive edifices owned by Imperial College London. A few of Matt's classmates did their undergraduate work there.

This was the Royal School of Music. Don't really know how you get in there, but it sure was pretty.

How quaint!

And, dun duh da daaah! Stop #2 was the Royal Albert Hall. Last time we came here was for the Christmas concert with my family, and it was dark, so we didn't see much of the structure. I'm glad to have had the chance to revisit it.

Despite the fact that my husband possesses a strong distaste for all musicals (except Phantom of the Opera), he sat through almost three hours of the best of Rodgers & Hammerstein without a complaint. And he only fell asleep once. We bought tickets for the cheap seats in the uppermost level, but when we got there, we were upgraded to the stalls for free! And our chairs swiveled so you didn't have to crane your neck sideways! Paid £12 a piece for tickets that should have cost £50 a piece. Happy birthday to me!

The best part was when they played the music from Oklahoma! Oh, the irony of it all. Listening to the Royal Philharmonic play a rendition of my state song while sitting in a world-renowned concert hall in London. Is this real life? The older gentleman above my shoulder in this picture hummed along rather loudly to every song. I couldn't be aggravated though because I kept thinking that my dad would do the same thing if he were 30 years older. Hubs and I were essentially the only people without gray hair in the crowd, but I loved every second of it. The emcee made several jokes aimed at the younger generations who no longer appreciate music without synthesizers, etc. Well, I'm only 23 and I appreciate the classics! Geez, old people these days.

After the concert, we passed the Natural History Museum (haven't been inside that one yet) on the way back to the tube.

Which brought us to stop #3, the OXO Tower Brasserie. Dinner overlooking the Thames while the sun set. Priceless. Can't exactly do this in Oklahoma or Texas. (By the way, this was the same restaurant and bar that we visited with Jenna and Allison back in January.)

Matthew had the quail with fig, pumpkin, and bacon. (He is more adventuresome than I am when it comes to food.)

I had clam chowder and rosemary seasoned chips (fries.)

For dessert, we split a bitter chocolate tart with milk chocolate mousse and buttered pears. I died. And I didn't get their picture, but there was an artsy couple setting the mood with some jazz music while we ate. The guy (who had a Euro-mullet) was tearing it up on the piano while the lady sang in that typical breathy, coarse, jazz vocalist way. They were cracking me up because I think that they thought no one was really listening to them. They did one song in French, which was nice, but then they sang something about "making whoopy." No one but Matthew and I seemed to find it comical.

Having finished two meals and a show, we were pretty exhausted. That much fun is hard work, you know. We said goodbye to St. Paul's and made the chilly commute back to the train station. It's days like these that make me appreciate public transportation. No thinking involved, just hop on and hop off, and take a nap in between.

Needless to say, it was an awesome fake birthday. I love it when Matthew pulls romantic stuff like this out of his sleeve. He definitely knows how to make me feel special. Whether we live in Tulsa or Houston or Cambridge, it's nice to have such a companion. Spending time with him never gets old.