Vienna Markets, episode 7. In which I pack up my melancholia and my nutcracker.

The final day of any trip is typically a melancholy occasion and I wouldn't have it any other way.  I love the comforts of home:  aside from the Goldilocksian mattress we finally discovered about five years ago, it is our live-in feline patron and protector, Mamita, that we miss the most during our travels.  Knowing that Mamita is safely installed at home (with daily nanny visits, of course) gives us great comfort.  While we inevitably look forward to returning home to Mamita and our (it's hers until our return) "just right" mattress, it is always the sign of a successful trip if we are sad to pack up and go. Our final travel day is typically jam-packed with everything from my list that has not yet been completed and Vienna was no different.

After an early morning hop-on-hop-off transfer and our successful (un-Gilligan-like) three-hour tour at the flea market, we hopped back aboard our cozy chartered chariot and were whisked away to Vienna's MuseumsQuartier, a mega complex of museums built around a communal courtyard.

Visit the excellent website

mqw.at/en

for full info and lots of photos.

We couldn't leave Vienna without experiencing some Klimt and a little more history.  You could easily enjoy several days exploring all the museums in this convenient and ecclectic assemblage, including a children's museum, but we were now severely limited on time and were also faced with, you guessed it, a final (our eighth!) and unexpected Christmas market in the fountained path leading up to the MuseumsQuartier entrance. This was our final photo of the trip; at museums' close the spirited weekend market was falling into full festive swing.

A few final temptations, a few final photos, and a few final reflections...

The last evening of our fleamarketing journeys are always spent taking stock (of purchases and luggage space).  Past late (really late) night packing sessions have taught us a few lessons that have helped streamline the process.  You already know about the bubble wrap.  It doesn't add any weight to your luggage, even if you don't end up using all of it for its intended purpose.

Rule two of fleamarketing by air: save space for the return trip.  I know it's obvious, but you need to shop with that empty space in mind, too.  I bought that giant nutcracker near the end of our trip, knowing I still had about half an empty carry-on bag crying out for souvenir fulfillment.  How did I have half a pilot case still unassigned?  It came to Vienna empty, that's how.  I packed my "personal item" (multi-pocketed mega-backpack) inside it on the outbound journey so I'd have an empty suitcase available for homebound souvenirs.

Now, I've attempted this similar trick previously with a suitcase inside a checked suitcase, but that got pretty heavy and I don't recommend it unless you have very lightweight luggage and are planning some major bulk shopping like an expansively colorful quilt from the Aloha Stadium Swap Meet (another adventure for another time).  An oversize wok from Seattle and a similarly colossal paella pan from Barcelona also found their way into pre-planned luggage gaps, but yielded rather awkwardly unwieldy results.  It's up to you what you are willing to carry and/or inflict upon your spouse.  (I learned my lesson with the wok, trust me.)

Never ask your wife to pack a carbon-steel wok

with her intimates.

Before bidding a fond auf wiedersehen to the magnificent and magnificently welcoming city of Vienna I want to put in a good word for one of my favorite travel guide series.  DK Eyewitness Travel publishes "top 10" travel guides for many major countries and cities.  These pocket-sized guides (less than $15 each) include pull-out maps and feature a list of top 10 tourist attractions with each attraction then broken down into top 10 sites at each location (and you don't need a shiny gadget or wi-fi connection to read them).  I have a growing library of bookmarked, tagged, annotated, and otherwise travel-worn Top 10 guides and refer to them constantly while planning and taking journeys.

I've learned, however, like Maggie Smith's overbearingly misguided chaperone in A Room with a View, that remarkable things can happen without your Baedeker (or Top 10 Guide in my case) so don't be tied to any travel guide.

Finally, I would be remiss were I not to post a final favorite photo.
Mari's photographed Christmas market angel wings are literal, but, of course, I see them every time she is near.

Until next time.  Another market, another city, another collection 
(or two)

...or three.

Vienna Markets, episode 6. In which we flee to the Vienna Flea.

I know it may seem kind of strange (the haters might say sad?) to some travelers, but one of the first things I will investigate about a potential travel destination is the location and timing of flea markets.  We love history.  We love culture.  We attend plays, musicals, opera.  We tour museums, cathedrals, landmarks.  I've attended games at nearly a dozen MLB ball parks.  EVERYTHING.  And, of course, that barbaric EVERYTHING includes flea markets (and thrift stores and yard sales, yada, yada, you know the drill).  I think flea markets and collections are a big part of a culture's identity (just ask any archaeologist digging through ruins trying to get a sense of centuries-old community life).  Fleamarketers are digging through the past, too.

Sometimes Mari and I will plan an entire trip around a flea market, like the 127sale, or sometimes there just happens to be a flea at the right time.  As I was researching Vienna and came across the Flohmarkt at the Naschmarkt (the monstrous local farmers' market) I knew we couldn't miss the regular Saturday flea.

Check out the very detailed market site.

(Warning.  It will make you want to be in Vienna on a Saturday.)

naschmarkt-vienna.com/flea-market-naschmarkt.html

There I am braving the elements in my element (and in my winter coat that doesn't see the wintry gray light of day for 50 weeks of the year).  After walking through the lush food stalls of the Naschmarkt we reached our predestined fleamarketing nirvana: hundreds upon hundreds of tented and non-tented booths of all things collectible and waiting-to-be-collected you could possibly imagine.

Personally, I enjoy booths like these with household and decorative fill-a-void-in-your-collection items.  I find it amusing, especially, when I see things that I already have in my own home or that I remember from my childhood home.  Fleamarketing is most often a trip down memory lane and not just about looking for a bargain. You don't even need to buy anything to enjoy fleamarketing.

You don't need to,

but you know you want to!

The "household" items vary from fleamarket to fleamarket, and, as I've mentioned previously, from city to city, state to state, and especially from country to country. Of course, you will sometimes find items previously collected by traveler-gatherers like us.  I have found an Alaska souvenir in an Austin thrift store, souvenir plates from all over the country at the 127sale in Kentucky, and a handful of fragile yet still remarkably perfect porcelain teacups stamped "Nippon" in a drizzly street market in Vienna, Austria.  Go figure.

Mari put her negotiating and diplomatic skills to the test with the non-English speaking proprietor of this booth at right.  On our mental souvenir/Christmas shopping list was a cool license plate for Mari's dad and we thought an oval European plate would be a nice addition to his collection.  With the assistance of a friendly (flea marketers are ALWAYS friendly people--unless they want what you want, of course) English-speaking local browser, Mari was able to knock the price down on the license plate AND a cool "restricted parking for electric vehicles only" plaque for my own garage wall display.

Yes, there is a small

collection of license plates, too.

It always grieves me that I am never able to take advantage of buying furniture at a flea market. Mari and I have found some incredible pieces and incredible bargains, but have always been incredibly far from home when these incredible discoveries are made.  Incredible.

As you can see, the Flohmarkt was active on that drizzly post-Black-Friday Saturday morning, but the damp weather didn't dampen the enthusiastic spirit of the shoppers and vendors.  Aside from the formerly Christmas-listed souvenir license plate, we also found some cool (confirmed enthusiastically on Christmas morning) soccer (I'm sorry, "football") jerseys for our nephews and a couple of small goodies for ourselves.  I came away with a functionally retro Philippe Starck citrus juicer for which I originally suspected I had overpaid despite bargaining down the price five euros (I was happily relieved to find the item selling for twice what I paid on eBay when I returned home).

Mari found a kindred spirit in a youthful jewelry collector who enjoyed spending her Saturdays divesting herself of past treasures and passing them on to fellow jewelry devotees (like I said, kindred spirit).  A beautiful vintage pin featuring an exquisitely encased edelweiss flower found its way into Mari's bulging fleamarket tote, as did a dozen or so tiny silver crests, charms emblematic of Austrian cities left physically untoured on this visit, but remembered nonetheless.  Hoping to fashion these twice-collected miniatures into a bracelet or necklace some day, Mari was thrilled to find unique and easily packable treasures, colorful (and shiny!) reminders of distances traveled.

The Saturday flea market sets up at one end of the daily farmers' market or Naschmarkt.  The marketplace is a bevy of local bounty.  Were I a Wiener, I would probably frequent the Flohmarkt for fresh produce which was grand and colorful and fragrant with a perfume not to be found in any supermarket.

I love this display of spices, so colorful and standing neatly at attention, awaiting a cook's creative hand.  Alas, a previous TSA incident with an ill-fated squeeze bottle of Reese's peanut butter topping from the Times Square Hershey's store has made me wary of traveling with condiments, especially these lovingly and carefully, but locally wrapped (and hence highly confiscatable) seasonings.

Same goes for the cheese.  Unless you are Lucille Ball and traveling with the brass section of your husband's big band, no big luxurious wheels of cheese, either.

Cheese!

Glorious cheese!

When I look over these photos (there were many more, trust me) my appetite for a return trip and for travel to new and collectibles-packed flea markets (and for that big hunk of Swiss cheese that looks like it wants to fall into my hands up there!) is awakened and my travel guru instincts start hungrily hunting for new market adventures, far and wide.

However, before embarking on a new adventure with you, dear reader, I will pay one last visit to fair Vienna and share some lessons learned (and maybe finally put away that nativity set).

Vienna Markets, episode 5. In which I introduce you to my little friend.

Mari and I have been taking selfies (I've come to accept this tech term after much internal debate) for years, but every once in a while a selfie just won't do and we must ask for help.  I know, never hand your camera over to a stranger, right?  Well, yes and no.  We're (shopper-gatherer) travelers; we want to see (and shop) the world; we want to meet people and share our spirit of good will with them. And yes, we're not stupid.  When we see a couple or a family trying to take a photo we always ask if they'd like us to take their photo.  I usually stand back and hold Mari's shopping bags and purse (real men aren't afraid to hold a purse) and smile at everyone while they pose for her.  The favor is ALWAYS reciprocated.  No matter the city, the country, the language.  When there is a language barrier, smile, point at their camera, and ask, "Together?" (Hand gestures may also keep others from thinking you want to buy their camera.)  It always works.  Now, that being said, we don't usually ask single travelers if we can take their picture nor do we hand over our camera to someone who is not part of a couple or family.  I like to trust human nature as much as possible, but there's still a New Yorker buried deep inside these layers and years of experience I like to call wisdom.

Long story short (I know, too late!), we exchanged cameras with another couple for the above photo at an outdoor photo "booth" in front of Schonbrunn Palace.  We had just hopped off our hop-on-hop-off tour bus (which was nice and toasty warm) and found our seventh Christmas market unexpectedly at our scheduled sightseeing stop.  I'm not sure I've mentioned the weather, but we did our research (of course) and knew pretty much what to expect.  It was in the low 40s and upper 30s during our stay with a few gloriously dry and sunny shopping days.

One (of the many!) reasons we love to travel is to actually experience non-apocalyptic climate change (South Texas, remember?), so we were excited at the prospect of cool weather.  It was the only week this season I've been able to wear my winter coat and gloves save for a few days back in February.

Mari and I spent a sublimely chilly week touring the grand city of Vienna and soaking up its culture (and late fall drizzles) in addition to fleamarketing the festive and spirited Christmas markets.  

One of my trip highlights was a night at the State Opera House enjoying Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro. No matter how efficient your travel guru skills are, nothing beats serendipitously good timing! Also a must was the eponymous post-opera indulgence (above) at the Hotel Sacher (almost too conveniently installed directly across the opera house).

On our agenda was a beautifully intimate concert at Mozarthaus (a location featured on a recent season of The Amazing Race). That's the performance room to the left.  In my planning stages, I discovered a Thanksgiving evening Mozart program.  Although non-traditional by our usual standards, our Mozarthaus Thanksgiving is an experience for which I will be forever thankful.

Our early bird, pre-performance, non-traditional Thanksgiving meal of baked trout with pea pancake and pea foam (but no actual peas!) was capped with locally traditional desserts:  apple streudel and apricot crepes.  My full review of the historic Cafe Central is on tripadvisor.com, but I'm happy to recommend the full service cafe for its aptly named location, tempting desserts, and bustling elegance.

Before I get too wrapped up in sugary-fruit sweetness myself, let me return to our collectibles.

When Mari and I Christmas-decorated our first home as a married couple (the one in which we still happily live), I bought my first nutcracker.  And so on and fast forward and we're about to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary, so you get the (yes, it's another collection!) idea.  My pictured companion has joined the collection.  I could not find a collective noun for a collection of nutcrackers so I'm going to coin another term (feel free to spread it around), "tchaikovtchke" (a melodic marriage of Tchaikovsky and tchotchke).  A Tchaikovskian tchotchke?

Anyway...

Say hallo to my little friend.

It's hard for me to explain how giddy I was when we first met, but I'll try.  Our eyes met across a crowded Vienna Christmas Market...

I love clocks, especially watches (another collection for another time?) and I had been keeping an eye out for an appropriate souvenir clock, maybe a cuckoo clock, the entire week to no avail and that's when we arrived at Schonbrunn Palace (not even expecting to shop!) and that's when it found me, that mysteriously complex of all collectible treasures:  the hybrid collectible.  It's a nutcracker that fits nicely into the tchaikovtchke I keep (in bubble wrap!) stored in P-touch labeled boxes in the garage for ten months of the year AND it's also a clock, complete with winding key that I must ensure not to misplace until the completion of the next ten-month storage cycle.

Mari's elusive edelweiss pin and fleamarketing the Flohmarkt at the Naschmarkt (and one last Christmas Market!) next time.

Vienna Markets, episode 4. In which I compliment the craftiness of crafters.

I've been spending lots of time looking through our photos, trying to choose just the right ones with which to tempt you.  I suppose that dilemma is similar to what the Vienna vendors and crafters faced as they attempted to showcase their handiwork.  We purchased one of these star garlands.  Ours is punched tin and weathered wood stars with small pine cones.  A nice memento that will always remind me of this special trip at this special time of year, (even if I leave it hanging year-round).  We have it hanging (as displayed at the market) vertically in a corner of the kitchen.

One of the reasons I was originally excited about exploring Christmas markets is because I love Christmas--with all (seriously, I mean ALL) the trimmings.  There's always room for another Christmas ornament or two (hundred), right?  

I don't, however, want to give the impression that only Christmas collectibles were on display at the markets because there were lots of other non-seasonal crafts proudly displayed throughout the city's markets.  I would estimate that a good half of the booths contained holiday items, though, and that's to be expected, of course, at a Christmas Market!

These handpainted, wooden plaques are a very clever creation and beautifully detailed.  It always gives this shopper great pleasure to have the opportunity to personally compliment a crafter, artisan, or artist when fleamarketing such a booth.  I am always amazed, too, at how creative people are.  What a blessing to have such talent and the courage to share it with others!

I was especially thrilled to buy the must-have nativity set from the wife of the craftsman.  A small Polish stoneware bowl is also now sitting by my computer, ready at the wait should I need a pick-me-up caramel.

The caramels are

for emergencies only.

As a jewelry crafter herself, Mari was excited to speak to fellow artists as she searched for that perfect pair of earrings (which she found--twice) or for that elusive edelweiss pin (which is to be unexpectedly unearthed at the Saturday fleamarket in an upcoming episode).

One of these swervy wooden bowls almost joined us for the return journey across the Atlantic, but (believe it or not) I do occasionally exercise a (very) little restraint.  Were I to make a return Christmas Markets trip some day (after a little household purging, of course), I'd probably be able to rationalize the purchase of another wooden bowl.

There's always room

for one more bowl.

If about half the booths showcased Christmas crafts and another fourth a variety of non-seasonal crafts, then probably the remainder tempted traveling and local consumers with beautifully prepared and presented consumable crafts:  gorgeous cookies, colorful candies, heavenly breads (don't forget the cured meats and Christmas cheeses!), and lots of hearty sandwiches, smoky grilled sausages, and beefy bread bowls of spicy goulash.

Still not afraid of

a complex sentence.

I almost forgot about the Christmas Market punch, too! According to the vendors, each season's punch is a unique blend of wine and fruit--the winning combination selected annually by committee.  Lucky committee!  The fruitful blend is served hot in collector mugs at all the markets and is also available in sealed wine bottles to carry home (a perfect, bubble-wrapable souvenir for a favorite sister-in-law and her oenophile husband). The comfortingly warm punch was also available in a "Kinder" version for those of us not wanting to indulge in any post-lunch, alcohol-induced shopping sprees through the markets.

Temptations (savory and souvenir) met us at every corner of every market, but it wasn't until an unplanned visit to an unexpected market while sightseeing at Schonbrunn Palace that I met the man of my (collectible) dreams. More on that fateful encounter next time.

Vienna Markets, episode 3. In which we are thrifty and I forget to follow my own advice.

In case I haven't mentioned it yet, I love to travel.  I blame (thank!) my parents who began their life's journey together traveling to a new country.  My mom, still single, had the inspirational courage to redefine herself in a new country, leaving her family, her way of (farm)life--everything that was comfortable and safe--behind her in the small coastal community of Vagos, Portugal.  I am forever grateful to have inherited my courage, yen for travel, and bargain hunting sensibilities from my mother (not so much her collecting habits).  I am blessed to share my life with someone with whom I have also merged my love for traveling and collecting. It's enormously gratifying when the stars align and we can enjoy fleamarketing and exploring new old cities on the same trip.

On Tuesday of Thanksgiving week we found ourselves visiting the Freud Museum where I was pleased (relieved?) to learn that Freud himself was quite an avid collector-traveler.  A display cabinet in his carefully preserved waiting room showcased small, handcrafted collectibles--souvenirs from world travels, a display which offered this collector-traveler some consolation.  Not to be outwitted, nor outcollected, I made a major discovery mere steps away from our morning history lesson:  a thrift store.

Thrift stores follow us.

Everywhere.

A small "charity shop" (as the Europeans say), the small rooms were packed with household goods, clothing, and (in their deservedly own special room) books!  I'm a fiendish book lover.  Give me a good bookstore and I'm set for the afternoon.  Give me a neatly organized collection of books in a thrift store and I'm good while Mari is devouring the clothing aisles.  Although I don't read German, I found it amusing and particularly comforting to recognize book jackets of familiar novels and authors in this tidy backroom library.  One thing I've noticed about books in thrift stores outside the states is that there is always more than one language represented.  In this case there were separate sections with French, Italian, and Spanish novels, in addition to German.  

We actually came away from the Volkshilfe (people's aid) Secondhand Shop with some bargains, including a beautifully patinaed cast iron bundt cake pan and a sweet little faceted glass vase--both on sale that day, thank you very much.  The cake pan scrubbed up very nicely and remains to be christened in its new American home, but the vase has already fulfilled its floral function on more than one occasion.

Historic visit and thrifted goods in tow, we walked a few blocks to Sigmund Freud Park from which we photographed the majestic Votivkirche (above) before touring the 150-year-old neo-Gothic Votive Church for ourselves.  Other than fleamarketing, I think we spend most of our travel time touring houses of worship.  Maybe it's simply the Catholic schoolboy in me waxing poetic, but like thrifted treasures, each church is unique, historic, and has its own story to share.

Here we are under the bannered entrance to another market just blocks away from our hotel.  It 

was here that I fell into a deep love (Mari and the Vienna Psychoanalytic Society would say obsession) with a beautifully hand-carved/turned/stained nativity set. I looked and asked and touched and thought and... walked away.

Didn't I say to buy it

if it speaks to you?!

I did buy that small carved owl staring you down from the front row.  He's looking at me right now from the parliament above my computer (remember our lesson from a few weeks ago?).  I know what you're thinking (because I thought the same thing):  I didn't follow my own advice and I regretted it at every subsequent market we visited for the next few days.  After scanning hundreds of market stalls, I came to realize that the exquisitely-cherishable nativity set in question was indeed one of a kind and that particular one demanded extradition to Texas swaddled in bubble wrap.

I am happy to report that the Christmasmarketed wooden nativity set is proudly on display in our living room and yes, I realize it's the middle of March.

That's me up there admiring an attractively enticing display of cured meats and homemade cheeses like it's some museum display.  Look.  Admire.  (cue stomach grumbles)  Walk away.  Not to worry; we sampled plenty of local treats including my first cronut (overflowing with Nutella!).  Even if you are not an avid fleamarketer nor collector of holiday regalia--if you are a foodie--the Vienna Christmas markets are their own scrumptiously satisfying experience.

More treats (sweet and collectible) next time.

Vienna Markets, episode 2. In which we soak up the local schnitzel.

Just before booking our Vienna flight and hotel, I did a little more digging around (that's the guru part of being a travel guru) and (hold on to your fanny packs) discovered a Saturday flea market in Vienna.  Gulp.

dramatic pause

That changed everything!  Actually, the weekly flea market did cause us to change our itinerary and return home a day later than originally planned:  there was no way we were going to miss a flea market.  We love fleamarketing in other states because there really are regional goodies (old and new) not to be found elsewhere, but fleamarketing in other countries is a whole other international-delights-laced story.  Needless to say, "Saturday flea market" joined my growing Vienna "to-do-see-shop-eat-play" list of locales including Christmas markets, Freud Museum, opera, and Mozarthaus.  The plan was to sightsee and shop (and eat!) Monday through Friday and fleamarket on Saturday and we pretty much stuck to the plan, but as per our usual traveling convention, we kept adding more to the list as the days (and the beauty of the ancient city) unfolded before us.

I'm going to highly recommend the K+K Palais Hotel (my full-length review is on tripadvisor.com) especially for its central location. We were never more than an easily walkable mile away from anywhere we wanted to be.

tripadvisor is one of my

favorite planning resources

(Find me as LouSara.)

Our first schnitzel was at the Hard Rock Cafe, a few blocks from our hotel.  We are always comforted by finding a Hard Rock, especially when we are not yet familiar with local cuisine.  I also enjoy the collectibles, the music, and the familiarity of the menu.  International menus don't differ at all with the exception of the special "local legendary" burger.  In Edinburgh, Scotland, it was the haggis-topped burger; in Honolulu, teriyaki pulled-pork & pineapple; in Barcelona, goat cheese and chunky salsa.  When I asked our English-speaking waitress about the local burger special, she proudly shouted, "Schnitzel, of course!" so schnitzel it was.  We didn't expect the schnitzel to be breaded ham, but, then again, we didn't know what to expect.  The sandwich also sported a side of creamy dilled cucumber, which Mari especially liked, but she likes vegetables and I've learned not to hold that against her.

You can't fleamarket or shop in any form for an entire day without some form of sustenance, so my fleamarket adventures will necessarily include a few pit stops, like the Hard Rock.  Hope you don't mind.

Here are a couple more photos of Christmas market stalls.  We couldn't help but photograph the beautiful displays (always making sure to ask, of course).  As I said last time, we visited eight markets during our six and a half days, and even without buying into the metric standard, you can do the math. When Lou the travel guru was doing the math during the planning stages, he expected at most one Christmas market per day!

Mari and I were walking to the big market at city hall on Monday afternoon when we stumbled upon a smaller market just blocks from our hotel and as we were walking back along a different route, we found another.  It came to be a (good) running joke the entire week with us.  Wherever there was a big open plaza, a Christmas market would pop up.  So, don't worry too much about planning market stops or not being too close to a market, because they are EVERYWHERE.

These photos show some homemade gourmet goodies like cookies, breads, and pastries, as well as holiday and seasonal decorations.  One of the pine cone garlands found its way home with us to join our holiday decor, but we just couldn't bear the thought of biting into one of those festively festooned Christmas cookies, so we stepped back, admired, and photographed.  (Don't forget your safe word!)

Another lesson we've learned in our travels and in our fleamarketing close to home is that when you find something that speaks to you, buy it.  The alternative is spending the entire trip talking about it and looking for it in another shop, but you won't find it, or it won't be the same, or it will be more expensive. You'll also annoy the heck out of your partner (trust me) by talking about the nutcracker or nativity set or Polish stoneware piece that got away.  (Actually, they didn't get away, but more on those another time.)

We did travel quite a distance for this special Thanksgiving Christmasmarketing adventure and realized quickly and most appreciatively that we were in a beautifully historic city.  Never be afraid to soak up the sights in between fleamarketing adventures!  What would a visit to Vienna be, for example, without a stop at the Freud Museum?  Mari had probably hoped to get some insight from the experts regarding my collecting addiction, but finding a thrift store across the street

(I kid you not.)

didn't really help matters at all.  More on what we thrifted and Christmasmarketed next time.

Vienna Markets, episode 1. In which we celebrate Christmas before Thanksgiving.

I began this blog a few weeks ago by dialing it back to one of our first fleamarketing vacations and now I think it will be fun to jump ahead to one of the most recent.  And it all kind of started in the same manner.
We were watching some travel program on TV...

This time we got it stuck in our heads that it would be fun to go to Vienna for that city's famous Christmas markets.  Never been to Vienna, don't know German, never had schnitzel (is there a schnitzel-loaf?!).  I can't remember the program, but it was probably Travel Channel we were watching this time.  I do remember seeing Vienna (specifically the Freud Museum and Mozarthaus) featured recently on The Amazing Race (one of our guiltiest pleasures since season one) and the ensuing casual exchange of remarks with Mari including, "Looks awesome," "We should go some day," and the ever-popular, "Put it on our list."  The travel doc currently on air featured Christmas markets (an entire market devoted solely to Christmas and its collectable accoutrements?!) so Mari and I exchanged our usual look (Warning!  Danger, Will Robinson!) that foretold of an impending journey:  a beautiful European city, a beautiful time of year, (beautifully adventuresome wife) and beautifully hand-crafted fleamarketing!

Now, I realize (every moment of every day) how blessed I am to have a supportive wife who shares my yen for travel and also how fortunate we are to have the opportunities to travel as often as we do.  I never take anything in our collections-cluttered life for granted and that's why I also enjoy the opportunity to share our experiences to hopefully inspire your travels and your collecting.  

Vienna posed a new challenge for us.  Mari grew up on English and Spanish and still has that sexy high-school-French working for her and I grew up on English and Portuguese and have that ambiguously New-York-inflected-high-school-Spanish (now modulated by along-the-border-Mexican-Spanish), but neither of us knows German except for the first 10 numerals I learned in 6th grade from the only male teacher at St. Teresa's in Sleepy Hollow (still North Tarrytown at the time) and a few choice expletives we learned from Mari's dad who was stationed in Germany as an impressionable young man.

In other words,

we didn't know Scheiße.

Don't ever let a language barrier be a barrier to travel.  A few lessons on the excellent free app, Duolingo, boosted our confidence a bit, but we hoped most vendors would still be able to communicate with a couple of friendly (and eager to shop) Americans.  Almost every vendor of the hundreds we met on our Christmas Market adventure spoke English or made a great effort to meet us halfway.

Our selfie above is at the entrance to the main market, The Wiener Christkindlmarkt at Rathausplatz (the Vienna City Hall Christmas Market), which is the market featured on the travel program we saw.  The city hall building reminded me of Cinderella's castle and was even more picture perfect in person.  These next two photos are glitteringly-enticing samples of the hundreds of colorful and lovingly-adorned booths of local and homemade goodies and crafts available to browse and purchase (many more festive photos to come in future posts).

Wait.  I'm jumping ahead.  There was still a list to be made and official travel guru services to be serviced.  But since I jumped ahead already, to the right is a sneak peak at the first of eight markets we marketed during our Christmas-before-Thanksgiving visit.

Christkindlmarkt.at/Wiener-Christkindl was one of the most useful and enjoyably browsable sites before visiting the actual sights of the markets.

Since we have always loved spending Christmas with Mari's family and our niece and nephews, we decided to visit the Christmas markets during our Thanksgiving holiday since we are fortunate enough to have the entire school week off.  The Christmas markets in Vienna seem to start in early to mid-November, so Thanksgiving was a perfect opportunity for Christmas (and flea!) market travel.  Perfect, as long as you are willing to exchange your traditional turkey-laced Thanksgiving for local (non-turkey) Viennese favorites. Needless to say, a couple of (really early) early-bird Luby's Luann turkey platters later and bags packed (remember the bubble wrap!), we were off on our first overseas Thanksgiving Christmasmarketing adventure.

More on our treasured hand-crafted finds and our first schnitzel next time.

127sale, episode 7. In which I share travel tips and birthday beignets.

Since our fleamarketing adventures back at the 127sale and because of the careful (persnickety) planning involved in organizing those adventures, I have officially earned my unofficial travel guru badge.  I am not a travel agent, but I play one online.  I have always considered myself a very organized person (my wife deemed me so freakishly and obsessively organized that she once videotaped my alphabetized and categorized collections to show her Psychology students).  

Doesn't everyone keep their

48 identical spice jars

(labels facing forward)

in alphabetical order?!

Back to the obsessive-compulsive business of travel...  Planning a trip for me begins with making a list. Once we decided to fly to Nashville and use that city as our HQ, we started a list of places we wanted to visit (Opry, Loveless Cafe, Louisville, Lynn's Paradise Cafe) and consulted a road atlas (always a permanent fixture in my car--one of the pragmatic habits I inherited from my dad) to help plan hotel stops along the 127sale route.  We also researched Louisville and looked at hot-to-us spots that we could visit on a Wednesday afternoon/evening since we wanted to start shopping the 127 on Thursday morning.  We had originally planned to drive back to the 127 on Sunday morning, but, as you know from the previous episode, we decided to spend the day in Franklin. We learned at our hotel before heading out Sunday morning that there was a sunset riverboat dinner cruise on Sunday evening, so we fit that nicely into our revised schedule.


That's the General Jackson up there and two of its giddy passengers to the right.

Visit generaljackson.com

for planning information.

We flew out of Nashville the next morning, on a Monday, bubble-wrapped treasures in tow--smaller treasures also "in toe" (in the toes of packed shoes that is).  That Tuesday was my wife's birthday and even though it's exciting to travel for your birthday, traveling doesn't always provide the best excitement.  That's when Lou-the-travel-guru steps in.

Planning this trip online was the first time I was able to take advantage of the multi-city itinerary option and plan a two-night layover in one of our favorite cities, New Orleans.  I want to put in a good word for the multi-city option when you are searching for flights.  Because we live in such a remote area of Texas that we must first fly to a hub (Houston or Dallas) before leaving the state, every trip is essentially a multi-city option. I usually start with Orbitz to gauge pricing and then go directly to the (lowest cost) airline's site for better booking options (I'm getting a little too old for those 5:15 AM flights out of McAllen, which are always the cheapest option).  Mari and I had previously been to New Orleans during the last leg of our 5000-mile honeymoon drive back in August, 1990 and I was craving beignets and chicory-laced coffee something bad.

Adding an extra stop to your itinerary, believe it or not, does not always increase the cost of travel. Of course, time of day, day of the week, and season all play a factor in costs and seat availability, but try it.  It won't add as much as a second round trip, that's for sure, and it's a golden opportunity to tick an unvisited city off your travel bucket list.  Mari had a lovely birthday weekend (in the middle of the week) and we both enjoyed her birthday morning powdered-sugar-covered visit to the Cafe du Monde.

We've since used multi-city to add an overnight stop in Kansas City on the way back from Chicago (dinner at Lydia's, lunch at Jack Stack's) and even an indulgently extra weekend in London (fleamarketing adventures on Portobello Road another time) on the way back home from a Mediterranean cruise.  If you're gonna be that far away from home anyway, make the journey last as long as possible.  

I have really enjoyed reliving our 127sale adventure these past few weeks and we have discussed a return visit some day--perhaps even the same route--because we enjoyed it so much.  I have not yet decided where to take us next on this blog, (there has already been a fleamarketing/thriftstore weekend on South Padre Island and reservations made for the 47th annual Spring Original Round Top Antiques Fair in April since I started this online adventure a few weeks ago) but there will be more fleamarketing with Lou (your unofficially official travel guru) next time.

127sale, episode 6. In which we rest and I begin a special collection.

On the seventh day... well, you know what happened on the seventh day...
I started a new collection!  Actually, what I was going to tell you was that we took a break from the 127sale on Sunday and decided to change it up a little bit (just a little).  We did some Sunday antiquing and exploring of the sweet little, historic town of Franklin, Tennessee.  Franklin is about 20 miles south of Nashville and, on our last day of fleamarketing, it was a lot closer than driving back to the 127sale for one more day of hunting down bargains.  After thoroughly enjoying the Saturday night show at the Grand Ole Opry and taking an inventory of our fleamarket finds (and of our road-weary selves), we decided to treat ourselves to a quiet day of antiquing (another form of fleamarketing) in the postcard-perfect town of Franklin.

Visit downtownfranklintn.com

for the full low-down

on why you should visit.

After an unplanned stop (never be afraid of an unplanned stop) at Landmark Booksellers on Main Street (Franklin is the kind of town where EVERYTHING is on Main Street), we headed a few steps over to Dotson's Restaurant where everyone was in their Sunday morning best to celebrate a beautifully tasty day.  (I was very sad to read of Dotson's recent closing after serving the local community for over 60 years.)  Another meatloaf to check off my list and another basket of mile-high biscuits (these were Mari's favorite of the trip).  Remind me to write a post (okay, maybe two or three) about my meatloaf travels (I'm not quite ready to coin "meatloafing" yet) some day.

I don't want to gloss over the significance of that stop at Landmark, either, because, like the name, my visit was truly a special occasion in my life as a collector, for it was at Landmark Booksellers of Franklin, Tennessee that I purchased my very first signed first edition.

I could write pages about Walker Percy's The Second Coming and why witnessing him speak at my college graduation was almost as exciting as receiving my own degree, but to find this special copy of this very special-to-me novel that had once been held by Percy's own hand as he inked the printed territory for this future fan to find on a sunny Sunday morning of rest from the 127sale leaves me (almost) speechless.  

A writer should never gush

so I'll postpone my book

moment for another time.

There was also a moment

when I met Alice Walker,

but I digress.

and John Irving

In this second photo is one of the many carefully curated booths at the Franklin Antique Mall.  We spent a few hours meandering and fleamarketing the rooms of the old ice house building, replete with characteristically creaking floor boards and naturally aged brick walls.  This booth in particular spoke to me.  If you zoom in on the top green shelf you will see a nicely arranged little display of Franciscan Starburst dinnerware.  (No, smarty pants, I did not start another collection... I was already a collector.)  Despite trying not to be "on the lookout" for missing pieces when I am fleamarketing, I do occasionally allow my collections to look out for me.  I've been collecting Starburst for about 20 years and have re-created (from at least 6 different vendors in 4 states) a nice collection of 4 full place settings, some serving pieces (a gravy boat with spoon at the South Florida Fairgrounds in West Palm Beach is a favorite find), and both a teapot and coffeepot.  We do use it from time to time (meatloaf and mashed potatoes look especially appetizing on vintage Starburst).  I'm not the kind of collector who is afraid to put things to their original use, but I do take extra effort to be careful when using collectibles.  

If you look around this retro booth a little more, you'll find samples of yet another collection currently filling a few drawers in our home.  This one started with my mom who was one of the original collector-hoarders and who gave me my eye for collecting quality goods.  Okay, I'm gonna do it, "My name is Lou and I collect vintage linen tablecloths."  Whew!  Much better.  

I don't need to watch a weekend marathon of hoarding programs (nobody needs to, but isn't it awesome when it happens?) or even talk to my wife the Psychology teacher to know what the collecting is all about.  Of course, I know I'm trying to recreate an idyllic version of the era in which I grew up and...  Wait, I didn't grow up in the 50s.  Never mind.  I just like the stuff, okay?!

Speaking of childish things, to the left is my best impersonation of Lily Tomlin as Edith Ann on Laugh-In.  We were at The Factory, a beautifully renovated former manufacturing facility of kitchen stoves and bedroom furniture that now serves as a unique gathering place with plenty of restaurants, shops, and reminders (like the big rocking chair) of goods formerly produced in Franklin.

Visit factoryatfranklin.com

for visitor information.

And that's the truth!

It's been fun reminiscing these last few weeks as I started this blog, but I will be coming to the end of our adventures on the 127 soon and moving on to another fleamarketing trip in another city (maybe another country).  I would like to share with you next time some (hopefully) useful travel/fleamarketing tips as well as explain how we ended up having beignets on the way home to South Texas from Nashville.