Caves of Wonder

On my first visits to Europe I was intimidated by the local "Apotheke," apothecaries. The era of a pharmacy with helpful clinicians is somewhat bygone in the US, or at least near our home. I wouldn't dream of asking someone in our local pharmacy in the US for "something for a scratchy throat" lest I was in the mood to rummage through the bottom shelf of Aisle 7, between the cat litter and bath tissue, for the item I needed.  

Over time I began exploring these European Caves of Wonder, and have truly come to appreciate the professional assistance of the staff to help me select just the right item for whatever ails me or a family member. On a winter trip to Paris one year my sinuses were inflamed; a brief visit to the apothicaire yielded a nasal spray and an herbal tea, a tea which I still seek out when seasonal allergies are bothersome. On a visit to Amsterdam our daughter developed a cold; the magical, herbal elixir suggested by the pharmacist was treasured until the last golden drops were drained from the bottle.

But the apothecaries go beyond "feeling better" to encouraging "well-being."  My favorite Advent calendar last December was a "daily tea" calendar that I found in my local apothecary. There are always new items to sample, as well, from lotions to potions to notions; all I can add is that it is good no one peeks in the burgeoning bottom drawer of my bathroom cabinet too frequently.

Last week I had tea at a friend's house, a delicious tea she procured outside of Austria. Today I set off to find the tea, and in the process explore some of the prettier apothecaries around the city.

The Old Lion Apothecary was the very first to install gas lighting in the early 1800's. From what I learned this technology caused such a stir that the good Kaiser Franz Josef I even came to investigate. The interior has all of the traditional lines: dark wood, cabinets labeled with herbs, and so on.   The lions in the windows appear dressed and ready for Faschings, the Viennese equivalent of Carnivale, too. (I just hope there won't be any fireworks.)

The Monastery Pharmacy, Apotheke der Barmherzigen Brüder, is indeed tucked into part of the former monastery. I didn't get the sense the pharmacists get many requests to photograph the interior, but I am glad they agreed. 

I also took a few minutes to visit the church. 

The next apothecaries I ventured into did not seem too keen on photographs, so just imagine dark wood and soft lighting at the Apotheke zum goldenen Reichsapfel, the pharmacy of the golden orb; 

and beautiful porcelain urns with herbal mixtures at the Alte Leopoldsapotheke.

 

I never did find the tea, and will probably have greater success at the Naschmarkt. But, Roget & Gallet soaps were on sale at every apothecary I visited, with corresponding Eau de Toilette. 

I'm sure there's space in the bathroom cabinet for my treasures. It's all about well-being.

Snow Grains and Roof Avalanches

One school morning last week I happened to check the weather before sending the Teen and Tween out the door.  27°F and "Snow Grains" was the report.

What are "Snow Grains?"  They are, I have learned, "grains of snow that look like grains of rice." I can not think I am the only one who didn't know that.  Snow grains are not to be confused with hail, however. 

With our first snowfall came sightings of these red and white poles attached to many buildings, you'll recall. 

I thought they were ice-poking sticks. What do I know.  It turns out they are "Dachlawine," safety notices to warn passersby of "roof avalanches." And they come in several varieties.

This one seems to be the common model. Earlier in the day I had seen a small collection of candles beneath the giant icicle, and by afternoon the candles had been replaced by the Dachlawine pole. A day later two workers (yes, TWO) came to remove the icicle, but the pole remained.

The advanced common model, as I refer to it, with explanation ostensibly for people like me. 

Not sure if this is old-school or new-school, but it is the only one of its kind I've spotted.

Finally, this one seems contemporary. I guess only the German, English, and French-speaking passersby in my neighborhood need to be warned.

Temperatures are on the rise here this week, so I suspect the "roof avalanches" may give way to "organized rain."

Summer...in Winter

Saturday afternoon presented itself with an open agenda. But what to do? The thermometer was reading -4°C outdoors, which doesn't really keep us indoors. The cold weather here is far drier than what we experience in the Mid-Atlantic, so that miserable "damp-to-the-bone" feeling is, most thankfully, only a memory. The vineyard paths were fairly slippery, though, so our planned outdoor walkabout with Clayton Theodore to Kahlenberg and back was a no-go. 

Still, -4°C is cold. So we sought a slightly warmer activity, the indoor pool and saunas at Dianabad.  There are a handful of indoor pools and thermal baths in Wien proper, so we decided to investigate one of them.  Tough work we have, to be sure.

 Once inside and stripped of layers of winter woolens, Anna Grace embraced her inner mermaid...

...amidst gently rolling whirlpools and the hourly "ocean wave."

Eventually Tony and I abandoned the delightfully warm water and comfortable lounges for the adults-only Finnish sauna, relaxing in the warm, steamy rooms with nary a care for the cold weather outside. 

I think we're good with winter in Wien.

Furniture Shopping

This Empty Corner of our living room has been painfully void of furniture since we moved in.  At the time, I did not regret putting our living room furniture into storage; as we did not have a place to live, we did not want to chance having to find a storage unit here in Vienna should our furniture not fit. Now, I regret the decision almost daily.  

The boxes for Tony's office sitting in the Empty Corner bother me, naturally, but we won't discuss why he just can't take all of that junk important stuff into his office. And good grief, some of the family photos I unearthed in those boxes were so outdated that I'll bet Tony's colleagues didn't even know we had a second child. 

The Christmas tree filled the space, but that's been gone for a couple of weeks. So off I set today to the k.k. Hofmobiliendepot, the Imperial Court Furniture Depot Museum for some inspiration. The Hapsburgs had multiple dwellings, but seemed to keep the furniture for all but Hofburg in the depot, so that it could be moved around as necessary. I would do the same thing.

This is a rendering of the furniture caravan leaving to prep the summer palace, Schloß Schönbrun. Reminds me of the line of Thule-topped vehicles crossing the Sagamore Bridge onto Cape Cod every summer.

 Candle holders displayed like hunting trophies.

And hunting trophies displayed like candle holders.  So far, nothing for the Empty Corner.

This pretty pink and green vase has potential. But, furniture first, and then the accessories.

 Don't need spitoons.

Our garderobe seems to be growing new coats, hats, and scarves every night in this weather. One or two of of these pieces could tame that mess.

I don't need pedestals or busts. Not even the tiny green one.

This segment is part of a large tri-fold screen. Although it looks embroidered, it is actually two layers of thin glass etched in opposite directions so as to look embroidered. Very pretty, but the wrong style for our living room.

This is part of a collection of wedding presents received by Kaiser Franz Josef and Kaiserin Elizabeth.  Wonder who gave them that hideous sea shell urn?

This was described as a "place to establish cactus." Well, Tony does hail from the Southwest US, but I just don't see how I could make this piece work in the Empty Corner.

Now we're getting somewhere. A reproduction throne. Rather ornate chair, but still, we're moving in the right direction.

This is a folding throne. One can't expect the Kaiser and Kaiserin to picnic sitting on the ground.

Rustic Hungarian-made pottery rooster plates used by the Imperial family at Schönbrunn.

Rustic Italian-made pottery rooster plates used by our family.  We have something in common with the Hapsburgs!

The Imperial collection of tables is first rate. The Empty Corner would look so elegant!

Sadly, this was pretty much the end of the museum visit. A few ideas, but the small gift shop did not have reproduction pieces to take home.  The search will continue, but the need for lunch was overriding the need to furnish the Empty Corner.

UN Art Tour?

Described as offering visitors the "the opportunity to turn their attention away from mass art collections and encourage them to consider, in the spirit of diplomacy, the artistic variety of our world," I thought the UN Art Tour would be a pleasant indoor field trip, and so invited a group of friends to join me.  I placed unanswered calls, and sent unanswered emails to the UN Tour Office, requesting more information and attempting to secure a private tour.  In the end I decided to just "wing it."

Our tour began outdoors with an introduction to the UN, a view of the Member State flags, and so forth.   Next we toured a General Meeting Room from the plexiglass-ed box seats, where a technical seminar was underway. (The photo doesn't show it, but a dude in the front row was playing video games on his laptop.)  We did not get to see the General Assembly Meeting Room, though. Bummer.

From the meeting room we rode in "culturally protected" elevators (from the 1970's) to view a short documentary on the role of UN Peacekeepers in war-ravaged places like Syria and Mali. 

Another short feature told the story of Malala. To quote Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon, "What the Taliban fears most is a young girl with a book." 

We then investigated a standard-issue family size refugee tent and examples of daily meals for a family of four persons.  Some refugee families have been living in conditions like this long past the desired time after which they should be able to return home. 

Equally as humbling were the galleries of Children in Arms and Human Trafficking.  

The last two stops on our UN Art Tour tour were all about the role of the UN with respect to nuclear issues.  First, a pause outside the IAEA offices to recognize the shared 2005 Nobel Peace Prize awarded to the IAEA and its Director General, Mohamed Elbaradei.

Then, a little-too-political-for-my-tastes discussion of the CTBTO and nuclear weapons testing. 

In short, the only art we saw was along the corridors that we were whisked through for the not-as-advertised UN Art Tour, with no time to examine or otherwise "consider, in the spirit of diplomacy, the artistic variety of our world." Before the tour ended, though, I took the opportunity to suggest to the Secretary General, "You may want to include a little art in your UN Art Tour." Maybe next time.