One beer, please

Droplets of rain run down the rear window of the taxi as it turns onto Schönlaterngasse on its way to the Vienna International Airport.  The heat from my body quickly steams the window, causing me to wipe my hand across the cold pane of glass.  Before it fogs again, I can see ghostly images of trees and buildings slide past as we work our way from the busy downtown area of Vienna.

It seems appropriate that on this day of departure, this beautiful city of music and culture is dulled by gray skies and an early morning drizzle.  With no need to view my surroundings, I can lean back into the semi-darkness of the van and run the events of the past two weeks through my mind.

How quickly we have come to the end of our vacation - four days in Munich, followed by four more in Prague, and finally another four in Vienna.  A year in the making, it's a journey that has broadened my appreciation for strange languages and currency, as well as provide a better understanding of the ruling class that shaped centuries of European history.

For this boy from the heartland of America, where German immigrants planted new roots, the journey through Germany and Austria -- combining familiar Bavarian landscapes and colloquialisms  -- was like meeting a family member you'd never met, but often heard stories about.

On the other hand, the Czech Republic experience was extremely interesting, but with the undercurrent of communist influence still evident in its graffiti marked buildings.  I remember telling myself as I walked down one of Prague's many cobbled sidewalks, "I can't speak a word, I can't read anything I see and I have to negotiate with money that means nothing to me.  What have I gotten myself into?"  A visitor to the moon would have felt more at home.

The good thing was that wherever I went there was always beer.  Lots of beer -- and most of it great tasting beer.  In every pub or restaurant you could say "Ein bier, bitte!"  Or better yet, "One dark beer, please!" and you would be served a frothy brew that was so smooth that you wondered if it was really beer.

It's a phrase that everyone understood.  From the raucous party known as Oktoberfest, to the  pivovar a restaurace (brewer and restaurant) uFleku in Prague, or even the traditional atmosphere of Vienna's oldest beer house, Goesser Bierlinik -- there was always a cold one waiting to be delivered to our table.

Through the taxi's front window, speeding white work vans kick up clouds of rain on the Schnellstrabe as they pass on their way to work -- another gloomy reminder that our vacation is about to end.  Despite my best efforts to enjoy each day along the way, I am unable to escape the inevitability that I am heading back to work on Monday. 

Reality bites --

No more relaxing breakfasts of cheese, cold cuts, yogurt, peaches, eggs and brown bread.
No visits to historic castles and town centers.
No planned stops along the way to visit medieval cities.
No hanging on to hand rails as the subway car races toward our next stop.
No lederhosen or dirndls and shouts of "Ein prosit!  Ein prosit!"
No wiener schnitzel or roast duck for dinner.
No plugging in the camera battery before heading to bed.
No crawling under single duvets that are so much better than our comforter at home.

And... no more dark beer.