The train strike had ended by morning, and it was finally time for our train ride to Austria. We were taking the same route I’d taken back in August on my nightmare overnight journey from Venice to Vienna. Under no circumstances was I willing to risk reliving that experience or letting my mom endure it, so we were taking the regular day-time train. The ride was over 7 hours—our longest train trip of my mom’s visit—but though it took up most of our day, it gave us a nice rest from walking.
The mountains outside got closer and closer, then suddenly we were skirting along the edge of the Alps, and then to my shock and delight, there was snow on the ground and covering all the trees. I lived in the Northeast of the United States for 7 years where snow is a routine occurrence and considered by most to be a messy nuisance. But still, my mom and I, two Mississippi natives, cannot contain our excitement at any glimpse of snow. At one brief stop, we risked getting off the train for a couple minutes just so we could touch it. My mom became so overcome with enthusiasm that she threw a snowball at my head.
This was a part of Italy I’d never seen before. A reason Italy is one of my favorite places on Earth is because of the diversity of the landscape. Though it’s relatively small (when compared to a country like the United States), it would still take a lifetime to feel like you’d seen all that Italy has to offer. After several hours, the snow cover got thinner, and the mountains got smaller. Then we were in flat plains, and suddenly we were in Vienna.
To be perfectly honest, Vienna wasn’t a place I initially included in my list of must-see cities in Europe. The vibe I perceived it to have based on everything I’d read and heard about it didn’t seem especially captivating to me. It looked to me like a grand and beautiful city full of impressive architecture and clean streets, but also a little… sterile and bland. I skipped it entirely back in the summer, never leaving the train station both times I passed through. But when I was planning my tour of Christmas Markets for my mom’s visit, Vienna was on every best-of list. It made sense as a stop for us because it was on our way to Prague. So I booked us just one night—enough time to see the biggest Christmas market but not so much time that it would feel consequential if we were unimpressed.
Getting to our hostel was tricky. We took the train to a metro station and then took the metro to a stop near our hostel, then we had to walk a half mile with our luggage. Vienna is BIG and sprawling. It was nearly dark as we arrived at our hostel. I’d picked our hostel, Hostel Ruthensteiner, based on reviews and affordability, so we ended up with our only shared bathroom on my mom’s portion of the trip and a small room with a bunk bed. And truly, it was lovely. It felt like a cozy attic. The bathrooms were individual rooms rather than stalls, so you still had total privacy, and we had a sink in our room where we could brush our teeth. There was a wonderful book collection (the mark of a great hostel), an impressive breakfast menu (which we left too early to eat), and a long list of regular group activities posted on the wall. I was in this hostel too briefly to fully enjoy it, but it’s definitely where I’d stay if I return to Vienna solo. We dropped our bags off, changed into our warmest clothes as fast as we could, and left to find the market—our first Christmas market of our Grand Christmas Market Journey. (The one we stumbled upon in Florence was so small that it only counted as a preview.)
Christmas markets in Europe are a concept that we don’t fully understand in America. They do exist in the United States—there are a couple adorable ones in New York City that I love—but I don’t entirely believe they can be replicated fully outside of Europe. Part of the magic of the markets is the setting and backdrop. The United States is lacking the 500-year-old gothic cathedrals and story-book villages that provide the backdrop for the popular markets in Europe. The best markets transport you to a world full of magic, wonder, and tasty snacks. (Perhaps this is how Disney World enthusiasts feel when they visit Disney World??) I’d looked forward to this since starting my journey in July.
We got off the metro and walked in what we hoped was the right direction, and the sea of Christmas lights ahead of us grew brighter and brighter, and finally we arrived across the street from the Viennese Christmas Market on Rathausplatz. The market sprawls in front of the city’s massive city hall and into the park alongside it. At the center was a double-decker carousel—a thing I’d never known existed. The stalls (over 150 of them) circled around the carousel, and thousands and thousands of Christmas lights illuminated the crafts, ornaments, and treats below. Next to the market was a park where you could ice skate, see light installations, and find small rides for children. It was everything I’d dreamed a European Christmas market would be.
It was freezing. My mom had brought my biggest coat with her when she flew to join me, and she’d bought a new one for herself just for the trip, but still, to people who are not used to standing in the cold for extended periods, we didn’t know how everyone else looked so comfortable in far fewer clothes than we were wearing. My feet felt numb, and I was so thankful that I’d thought to buy a pair of gloves a few days before in Venice. Despite our shivering, nothing could diminish our joy.
Every different Christmas market features its own specialties and things they’re known for. Another neat tradition is that each of the Christmas markets has its own signature mug. In many of the big markets, when you get a hot drink (usually a mulled wine or hot chocolate), they give it to you in their signature mug. You can return it when you’re done and they give you some money back, or if you want, you can keep it as a souvenir. It was very neat to see how creative the different mug designs were in all the markets we visited. (My mom and I each brought one home.) Vienna’s market had a lot of ornaments and Christmas decorations. There were food stalls with all kinds of local and international foods. We got Italian arancini for what we thought would be a snack and ended up being our dinner, and I got a cookie the size of my head. But we tried hard to resist buying everything in sight because we knew we had so many more markets still to visit.
Near closing time, we walked toward the city center to get a small glimpse of the city before leaving the next morning. We stopped for a few minutes at a smaller Christmas market we found on the way, quiet and quaint compared to the big one, and then continued zig-zagging through the streets. What I saw of Vienna barely counted as an impression. It was late and most shops and restaurants were closed. But from what I saw, I felt like my assumptions about the city were confirmed. It was clean. It was grand. It was beautiful and impressive. But it wasn’t a place I felt captivated by. That is, until we rounded a corner heading to the nearest metro stop and were unexpectedly greeted by the view of St. Stephen’s Cathedral—a stunning, gargantuan gothic cathedral that left me momentarily speechless in the street.
After a late-night burek (my last of what must have been several dozen on my trip) and a bag of Mozart chocolates, we headed to our room, exhausted. I stayed up in my top bunk thawing from the cold and writing until 2:00am because my mind was moving too quickly for me to sleep. The next day, we left for our early train to Prague.
