Catching Up

One of the most remarkable features of great friendships is, after a great period of separation, the ability to pick up exactly where it was left off.  A few weeks ago, I was told my brother would be able to visit me here in Austria for 15 days on leave from duty serving with the Marine Corps in Afghanistan.  The last time we had seen each other was after my graduation in May of last year for a few days.  Nearly a year later, and we continued on as if no time had elapsed.  

It was McKenzie's first time in Europe, and as he didn't want to do anything overly touristy, I had the opportunity to share some of my favorite spots around this neck of the woods with him.  I greeted him at the airport with a freshly baked pretzel and some pastry, and then we were off.  We visited the salt mines in Berchtesgaden and sat outside in a quaint courtyard, basking in the sun, eating refreshing gelato and watching the people walk by.  I took him to Vienna, one of my favorite cities, and there we walked along the famous Ringstraße, ate the biggest Schnitzel I've ever seen, and spent a few hours in my favorite café sipping our coffees and eating cake.  We visited the local beer hall with several of my friends, and spent the night in a cavernous room filled with jolly folks, and walked the mountains surrounding Salzburg.  On a beautiful day, we rode to Munich and passed by dozens of street musicians dotted across the city in some type of organized event - they even had concert grand pianos in side alleys and main boulevards; it was fascinating!  We walked around the aged streets, among decorated façades, through manicured gardens, and finally through the seemingly wild Englischergarten, a beautiful park similar to Central Park, where a tributary of the Isar River that flows through the city winds over rocks with such force that surfers can test their skill on the waves.  After many attempts to gain entrance in the past, we walked right into the brewery of my favorite beer, Ayinger, and had a few Weißbiers and literally the best Strudel I've ever tasted - apple and apricot with vanilla sauce, fresh whipped cream, and mint leaves.  It was well worth the wait.

Towards the end of his stay, we went on a surprise trip to Venice, whose beauty grows with each visit.  The very concept of a city with waterways instead of paved roads, boats instead of cars, is mind-blowing, and with such a magnificently preserved cityscape, flower-decorated balconies, singing gondoliers in striped shirts, it's history and roots combined with its current tourist marketing make itself both remarkably authentic and simultaneously a parody of itself, prompting a question that's surfaced in my mind ever since laying eyes on the place - what's the real Venice?  It's the one place I've visited that I haven't been able to fully grasp, to understand how it works and what the people think, and I'm starting to think that this cryptic status is what makes Venice so alluring, so perpetually interesting and changing.  It's unlike any place I've been, and its perseverance throughout the ages and sheer brilliance only serve to magnify what is surely one of the most valuable gems man has produced.

The Grand Canal towards Santa Maria della Salute.  Breaktaking. 

  
We had so much fun in Munich, that we decided to return on Good Friday.  We went straight to Dachau, a suburb about 20 minutes from the city center by train.  There, we explored the concentration camp, the first built in 1933.  This was my fourth camp visit (9, if you count satellite camps), and the overwhelming of feeling of "something," still overcomes me.  I don't think it's sadness, and it isn't sympathy, and I don't know how to describe it.  You can read all about the Holocaust, see all that newsreel footage on the History Channel, but until you're actually there, you walk through those gates, you see the barbed wire and towers, smell the crematoriums, the bunks, and the gas chambers, walk on the gravel and touch the bricks, you have no idea what they're like - and, to think, it's 70 years later and one still gets a strong reaction - there's just something about it.  We ended the day back at Ayinger, as we liked it so much, and then headed home.

Lastly, we returned to the mountains above Berchtesgaden, to what I consider to be one of the most beautiful locations in the world, the Obersalzberg.  I have said it before, but, despite being one of the most brutal regimes in modern memory, the Nazis sure knew how to pick a vacation spot!  It's the type of place that pictures cannot explain - it must be experienced.  The vivid colors, the crisp air, the untapped vastness of nature - it is nothing short of stunning.  We traced through the woods, forged trails through the snow, on a scavenger hunt for Nazi-era buildings, fortifications, ruins, and remains, and it was absolutely spectacular.  We stumbled upon things that no tourist ever sees, and we had a blast doing it.  We spent the night at Augustinerbräu at a corner table, giving him the opportunity to soak up everything before heading back.  Our time together ended after Easter Mass in a local Church that performed Puccini's fun Messa di Gloria with full orchestra and choir, after which we sat in Café Sacher, eating for the last time together Apfelstrudel and coffee.  And then he was off, back to the Middle East.  

Augustinerbräu in Salzburg on Holy Saturday.

It was just like old times, laughing and sharing memories, a reminder of home and our tied pasts.  It was surreal at times, too.  He can give his life for his country, and yet he still can't buy a beer back home, and there we were, sitting in a beer garden in Munich, enjoying a cold one.  Regardless, it was a great time.  The big question now is: when will we next see each other?  I hope it won't be another year before it happens, but, I know for certain that it will be just as comfortable as it was these past two weeks, catching up and keeping the ball moving as if it had never rested.