In some parts, driving through Austria feels a bit like driving through Ohio in January. It was foggy and grey. Farming fields dotted with lonely stationary equipment. Perhaps no drivers want to work on Fridays — but why? Isn’t Friday the best day to work?
I had a headache, the tricky kind. The kind that makes you think you can press it into nonexistence. Just hold your hand…here. now there. you lose. it’s still throbbing everywhere.
I closed my eyes and opened them in Mondsee. There’s a big lake in the center surrounded by mountains, which the fog had erased; stepping off the bus felt like entering a faded watercolor. Pastel-colored buildings. Trees that held white air. I made the sign of the cross in the church where Maria became a Von Trapp.
But take me back to that bakery — where the coffee cured the pain and my morning instantly cleared. I ate a square cheese danish and watched the women in the corner. I bet they sat there every week.