First impressions.

The hiiiilllllllllllsssssssss are a aliiiiiiiiiiiive! With the sound of me panting and sweating as I try to push a stroller holding a 23 pound baby up a small mountain while also carrying a fetus and two grocery bags. Dang, Vienna! What’s with the hills? I mean, I know we’re near the Alps and the Sound of Music song really should have prepared me for this, but I had no idea I’d be risking heart failure every time I need some toilet paper.

Other than the hills, Vienna so far strikes me as a beautiful but sleepy city. That could be because we are currently holed up in a 60’s style townhouse way on the outskirts of town, complete with views of rolling farmland. But even when we’ve ventured downtown, I’ve been struck by the definitive lack of hustle and bustle. I’ll let you know if that changes after the big August vacation period wraps up and we get moved into our permanent quarters a little closer in to civilization.

What else can I tell you about my new home? Well, I ate a schnitzel that was bigger than my child for lunch yesterday. The grocery stores seem to devote an inordinate amount of space to pork products. Not speaking German doesn’t seem to be as devastating as I expected, although it still makes me feel dumb. Case in point: a strange man opened the door to our house the other day and began speaking in rapid-fire German, pointing to some boxes that had just been delivered. Somewhere at the end he said “haus-meister!”, waved a friendly wave and shut the door. Husband came around the corner and asked who it was.

“The haus-meister?”

“Oh, what did he say?”

“Um, a lot of shit in German that I didn’t understand!”

Sometimes things like that make me want to punch Husband in the face. But I hold back because he is now the designated hill-walker when I need groceries.

Anyway, we’re doing fine and getting adjusted as best we can. I feel weirdly less anxious about this move than the move to Paris – I guess having been through it once before has better prepared me for all the trials and tribulations that come with living out of suitcases in a foreign land where you don’t have any friends or family. That and I have an internet connection. Thank you little jesus in velvet pants for the internet connection. It keeps me from wanting to fling myself down the hilliest of Vienna’s hills.

More to come – I promise. And as soon as I figure out where I stashed my camera cord, I’ll get some pictures up.