Making it count: travel updates by the numbers

Countries vistited: 4
Austria, Slovakia, Czech Republic, Germany

Languages attempted: 3
German, Slovak, Czech, (but have also used English, Spanish, Italian, and French)

Cities seen: 5
Vienna, Bratislava, Prague, Plzeň, Berlin

Hours spent on trains: 27

Beers tasted: 18 and counting
Urbock 23 Eggenherg ('the cognac of beers'), Wieselburger, Spiegl, Pilsner Urquell, Pilsner Urquell (unpasteurized and unfiltered), Dark Staropramen, Budvar, Budvar Dark, Gambrinus, X33, Pivovarsky Dum's sampler (light, dark, sour cherry, coffee, wheat, banana, nettle, monthly special)
When good beer is cheaper than water, there's just no excuse.

Museums seen: 5
Leopold Museum, Albertina, Secession, Belvedere, Mucha

Misadventures had: 1.5
An epic tale of tracking the nonexistent Parma FedEx the day before my departure, seeking my absentee train ticket, but it all worked out.
Getting fined 700 Kc on a a Prague tram for not having validated the ticket immediately upon boarding

Kilometers walked: uncountable
Ask the soles of my feet. Perhaps they know. Perhaps my maps know. Ask the z's I start to leave on my pillow the second I lay down my head.

Days remaining: 15 (unless the airlines and the volcanoes have something to say about it)
Enough or not enough?


A journal excerpt from Day One:
On the train to Vienna. We cross into Austria, and by 630 I am awoken and don't dare close my eyes again. It is amazing how visually apparent it is that we are in a completely different place. We sure ain't in Kansas no more. I don't mind the gloomy forecast because it makes the current sights so mystically spectacular. Coniferous forests and the mountainside, shrouded in clouds. Every now and then the sun breaks out and that fleeting hint of a blue dawn is all the more spectacular. Along the sides of the tracks it is like a lincoln log playground, and surrounded by so many beautiful green trees it is the first time that the sight of logging doesn't come with a pang of guilt. Silver rivers cut through the verdor and my Seattle companion, Ellie, says it draws home to mind. I spy some brown cows (how now?) and I feel at home, too. The architecture can only be described as quaint and quintessential. Angled roofs, angled wooden accents on pastel siding. Steeples look like ergonomic stacks of ice cream scoops, topped with a shining golden accesory. There is a mysterious phenomenon now known as the Christmas tree on a stick or, more succinctly, the Christmas kebab.
All I can think is that I hope I remember this forever. Day one, maxing out at around five hours of sleep, and already there is so much wonder to behold.